This is the final chapter in Book 5. In total I have written 240 chapters in 50 months. If there will be a Book 6 is like the future - all in HIS hand.
May I remind readers that all I have written is correct to the best of my knowledge. Should I come across minor errors, which may have slipped through, I intend to correct these.
God willing, there will be a summary of my auto-biography covering from Oct 05 - Feb 07 in the next month or so.
29. God's P - Unreal
As puzzling as my observations and conclusions seemed, even to myself, I could not ignore facts, numerical data and/or letters I saw with my own eyes. This is why, where possible, I back my writing with scans of what I found or photos I took (E.g. the cloud which followed us on 12.1.07).
The first time I had been on the road, after a few days of writing, I noticed something clearly matching. Driving along on Bridge Road I noticed a large automobile in the lane beside me at the traffic lights. The registration number CLOUD 7. (This is not in code, but the actual word and number. (It may have been 07).
Having uploaded Chapter 28 on 8/2 the maximum forecast temperature for Adelaide was 28 degrees for the following two days. Not Fahrenheit, but Celsius. Nice word Celsius, and how it fits the cloud. Maybe it was a L, and not a 7?
A news item on 9/2/07 (or 2/08/07 in the US) shocked much of the world; the death of Anna Nicole Smith. To be frank, I had not heard of the lady at all, until then. She was reported to have died in Hollywood, not in California, but Hollywood, on the other side of the US continent in Florida. The name Smith came up on two occasions in Chapter 28 - Smithtown and Smith Street, Kempsey.
As I type this chapter, the search for an adventurer, whose abandoned kayak had been found floating in the Tasman Sea, is also in the news. Andrew McCauley, again a name I had not heard before, attempted to be the first ever to cross from Australia to New Zealand in a kayak. (Kayak is a palindrome, remember, chapter 28).
According to media reports, he was only 75 kilometres from his destination, after covering 1500 kilometres alone at sea. His wife had already flown to Milford Sound, on New Zealand's South Island, in readiness for her husband's expected arrival the next day.
To me all sounded a little L ForD. Just like another story I had only picked up very briefly today, listening to Macquarie National News. It supposedly happened in Macquarie Fields - a woman had murdered her husband with Glad Wrap. The name mentioned was the same as that of a famous Adelaide United Soccer player.
How often do we hear stories on the news, read at high speed, the brain can hardly keep up? Is it to give us less time to analyse, to think it all through? Later in the chapter I will come back to this, my pet subject - Truth, particularly truth in the media.
For the moment, I shall write a sequence of events, a sequel to a magical tale, which goes back to 2005. An observation in church on Sunday 11/2/07 triggered it. The service my wife and I attended, started with a lively presentation on CD about Indonesia. We were encouraged to support the mission work there.
To put the huge population of this mostly Muslim country into perspective, the witty narrator mentioned the population of Tasmania in comparison - 185 000. Having lived in Tassie, even Isobel beside me realized the figure was not correct.
The next day, Monday 12/2/07, the matter came into my mind. I felt prompted to just send a little email to the Missions Department. Readers, who know me by now, will realize I was not trying to be critical, but I had seen the 185, the central number in an incidence, I will never forget.
Actually, just now on writing, I am making a connection from 185, to an event that same afternoon, (Sunday 11/2/07 - note the numbers) Isobel and I visited a car display in the Adelaide Hills. It was an ALL British Day - only vehicles built in Britain. (Like the MG, perhaps?).
Walking among the hundreds of British gems at Uraidla, a place not far from Adelaide, I saw at least two sports cars, the actual vehicles, which both feature on my website.
One was the Austin-Healey, I had photographed at the Novotel Resort in the Barossa Valley. The other was the Singer sports car. I had snapped a photo of it near Adelaide's Botanic Gardens, saying hi to the owner, Mr. *Day.
My very first motorcar was a Vauxhall Victor Super. I saw one almost identical and chatted with the owner from Mannum. Not one Wolseley 4/44 was there - a little disappointing. The car closest to it, an MG Magnette, (Aha !!!) was just leaving as we arrived.
Sometime later, a little numbers twist popped into my mind. The registration plate of my first car had been DVC 712. These digits made up that *day's date 11.2.07. Only now as I write I made a discovery - DV stands out as No. 505 in Roman Numerals. In Chapter 28 this number played a role. Did somebody C it all?
Here is what I wrote to the Mission Department, to point out the 185 000 error:
Subject: Little old Tassie not that littleHi all,Our church service yesterday (11/2/07) started with a lively presentation promoting the work of GIA in Indonesia.There was just a slight error. The population of Tasmania, was mentioned as 185 000, possibly to contrast it with our giant neighbour. However, having lived in the Tomato Capital of Australia, it's more like 450 000, unless there was a mass exodus.Kind regardsDieter FischerPS Actually, what do they call them things growing on trees, Adam and Eve like so much???
Of course, every Australian primary school student knows, that Tasmania is the Apple Isle, not the Tomato capital of Australia. But I think the recipients understood the pun. (Read on).
That same evening, Mon 12/2, the night before commencing this chapter, I happened to listen to an evening program on the ABC's nationally broadcast - Nightlife. The guest was a lady author, writing books on inner peace and happiness.
I had on 18/10/05 attended one of her book-promotions in Adelaide. I shall never forget the day. Subsequently, I had written to her and told her of the extra-ordinary events that afternoon. She requested more detail and was going to include it in a book on karma.
On Tuesday 13/2/07 my wife and I were in the middle of a serious discussion, concerning the same subject we had been at loggerheads for years: Either IT is all from God, or I suffer from a mental condition, which she believed, could be corrected with therapy and tablets.
In the middle of our lively, but seriously friendly argument, it suddenly dawned on me that exactly one month before hearing the lady on the radio on 12/2, Jon and I had seen the cloud in the sky above Narrandera. Plus another clue - the number 185 incident in 2005 took place on the same day I had been at her book promotion and heard this author speak. (It may sound complex, but, in short, I saw it all link together).
Walking away from the discussion with my wife, I felt urged to offload my find onto this person via her website. I felt the need to be understood by somebody; anybody, preferably a human, with an open heart and mind, who could think and show emotion at the same time. My dilemma at home became increasingly frustrating, for lack of such a person.
Here is my message to the author, a copy went to the ABC's Nightlife.
Subject: Tomatoes and GodHi Stephanie,If you ever did go ahead and included the story I emailed you regarding the number 185, there is more.It was yesterday I sent am email to the Baptist Mission GIA. In church Sunday they showed one of their promo CDs, about Indonesia, and compared it to Tasmania, who only has 185 000 inhabitants. Having lived there, I knew they made a mistake, so I emailed them.You may recall the incident: The same day we met on 18/10/05 in Adelaide's Hindley Street (during a book promo - I must add) I had bought 1 kg tomatoes, which weighed exactly 1000G. The girl had suggested 5 tomatoes. I said, no it will be more like 8, which it was. Moments later, driving in Wakefield Street, I saw an MG sports car, beside (or ahead), registration plate MG, meaning 1000G.Well, last evening, the day I sent the email about the 185000 mistake, you were on the ABC, talking to Tony Delray on Nightlife. You had some pretty serious callers, but handled it very well.A moment ago, just before remembering all this, and deciding to email it to you, I had a very lively discussion with my wife. She does not see any magic, never made a serious attempt to even understand it, while I see real beauty in it - God showing me through numbers how he loves me.(Can you believe this, as I type she is reading over my shoulder from a Science Magazine telling me it's all my illusions, a mental illness).One Valentine's Day, about 2 years ago, I tried to put an ad in the newspaper under Valentine's Greetings: "I have loved you with an everlasting love" Jesus. It's from Jeremiah 31:3. They did not allow it to be printed.Late last year I also came across another scripture from Jeremiah. It was after I had discovered, they had done a very, very bad deed: I wrote to them Jer: 3:3 (minus 1): "Therefore the showers have been withheld and there has been no latter rain. You have had a harlot's forehead; You refuse to be ashamed."God works in mysterious ways. Why not numbers, letters, words, even words like Tomato.Kind regardsDieter Fischer
PS God is the answer to anorexia or any other mental illness. How, ironic that by believing the above, I am labelled mentally ill by my own wife!
For the first time since the 2005 incident I looked at the letters of the word tomato - am ot. The typing error in the first line, second paragraph was not on purpose. I saw it only afterwards.
Saying God showed me that he loves me, was not meant in an arrogant way. Those who open their hearts, who let their emotions go, when God's love overwhelms them, will know how great God's love is.
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Left: In the previous Chapter I mentioned finding the bolt, No. 8, shown on left (twice actual size). The 8 had fitted perfectly into the bigger picture.
Right: Taking Becky for a walk, only days after writing about this bolt, I found another one, shown on the right - 8.8 - v a o.
It was placed at a location, by the small lake, where long ago had picked up a 513 clue, plus a Blockbuster Membership Card..
A careful query with my bible college student son, a slight suggestion that it could not all be co-incidence, brought a strong reaction - anti-magic, pro mental illness.
However, he never took my challenge seriously, to go for a walk and find two bolts, on separate days, both with the same numbers shown. If I gave him a month to do it, under normal circumstances, what would be his chances of success?
I dared not hint what v a o might stand for.
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After I had titled and uploaded Chapter 27, God's L Real, I opened the latest InTouch Magazine. The title page, once again fitted perfectly - God's Amazing Love. What my wife does not seem to want to understand: God may choose to work in strange ways to show us, how HE loves us. If I interpret numbers, letters, co-incidences, as God showing me how he loves me, why should this make me a mental patient?
Example: Believe it or not, on the very morning of starting to write this chapter, the same day I sent above 185 email, I woke and looked at the clock at 5.18 AM.
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On Valentine's Day I challenged my wife. "Do you love me?"
She said: "Yes."
I probed further. "But I have not felt it for a long time. Do you love me unconditionally,"
"Yes", she assured me," but I can't go along with your numbers".
"Then you don't love me unconditionally," I concluded.
All I wanted is affirmation that IT is rather peculiar, what I see and connect. I agree with anybody, who says: "That it is all a bit odd".
I did not expect her (or anybody) to understand IT the same way I do. Unless one had followed the supernatural links right from Chapter 1 of my first book, nobody could make sense of the rest.
Likewise my son's only conclusion, finding a bolt with a number on it, is a mental illness. He could not judge, however, because he had not been following the logical reasoning, why I picked up the bolt. Every logical thinker, who had followed the chain of events, including the fitting number 8, should at least put it all in the "remote-possibility-basket".
A family friend, so my wife told me, had classed my behaviour regarding numbers, as trying to control her. In a way this is correct, since I am challenging my family in this way:
"Judge me only after you have tried to understand the logic behind my thinking (and action). If you refuse to do so, please stop labelling me mentally ill."
If this is controlling them, so be it. At times I feel a prisoner in my own family. To say to somebody, we don't understand what you say, therefore you need tablets, is locking me inside their little box. If I am that far off the planet, can anyone tell me, what I have missed, where I have left the track?
For my wife to quote from a secular Scientific Magazine eliminates every spiritual (super-natural) aspect of my case. The medical profession and scientists, as I understand it, do not bring a God who can do miracles, into the equation. (This is why I have written on a different subject, how unrealistic the religious vilification laws in Victoria are: A secular judge should not be trying to sort out a religious argument!)
If I claim God is directing my life, which every sincere Christian ought to do daily, who on earth is able to judge my action, except the person, the Spirit, who lives inside me? Unless my actions are destructive, unless they hurt others or myself, why should I not be allowed to follow my way of thinking, with a low level of latent, inhibited thinking?
I had already been advised by my family, if my longstanding belief in Mr. Liddy's innocence, was proven correct, my family would still not discard their view that I have a mental problem. My faith-claim that God's Spirit showed me, this man is innocent, would still be rejected.
How could I ever escape this prison, I feel my family is keeping me in. Who is really controlling who?
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Diary 17/12/06 - Cut from the program of Handel's Messiah.
Isa-iah 9, 6 - The central message of Christmas: For unto us a child is born ....
U N See U (on) T
L Hand's 1A.
Uncut, except 34, 35, 41?
My wife and I enjoyed a rousing rendition of Handel's Messiah by a mass choir. The venue was the Cornerstone College, Mount Barker.
In the main street I noticed a business - A TUSCAN TOUCH.
Only the day before I had uploaded the word TOUCH among the hands on my index-page in Book 5.
A CROSS CAN TOUCH US. How I wished it would !
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In the fight to find justice for Peter Liddy there was mixed news. I renewed my effort to again correspond with Peter in November 06. I took the letter personally to the gate at Northfield prison, where the attendant told me to place it in a wooden box marked "MAIL". Peter did not receive it. I phoned the prison. A lady clerk told me she could not trace my letter, because I had not put my name on the outside.
I have since written another letter with my name and address on the back. Again I delivered it to the Prison reception. If letters are withheld from prisoners, somebody is breaking the law. I shall not give up.
Even if an exchange of letters were successful, Peter does not seem to be fighting for his release. Likewise his mother was reluctant to take the fight to a higher level, such as talking to a Member of Parliament or a brave investigative reporter, if one could be found in Adelaide.
On the positive side, as recently as the day before writing, I had an email from a Member of South Australia's Upper House. He indicated he may be willing to bring up the case in question time in State Parliament. A glimmer of hope, the first one from any official source!
However, I will not put my trust in men. My confidence is in the Lord, who can direct men's thoughts. He directs even a king's thoughts, like a farmer directs the water to irrigate his crops. God uses people, human minds, human hands and feet to accomplish what HE pleases.
In another development I found out about another case of an ancient sex charge against a high-profile public figure. The case was very similar to the one I am fighting for. This one was taking place in Queensland. This accused man was a Member of State Parliament. He allegedly had sexually assaulted an 8-year old girl in front of a school class 40 years earlier, when he was a teacher.
From what I read online, not one person of that class could be found, who could recall the incident. The MP was interviewed by a medical expert after being charged, and clearly certified as not being a paedophile. This vital expert witness, however, was not called upon to testify in court.
Parallels to the Liddy case are uncanny. They also proceeded to take away the MP's superannuation, after forcing him to resign. Unlike in the Liddy case they were unsuccessful. As in the Liddy case, the accused denied all charges, but the jury still found him guilty. The ex-MP's wife and a few supporters are fighting for justice for the man, who was sentenced to 11 years jail, which he is serving until 2011, if nothing happens.
When a high-profile member of the community goes to jail, it always looks good on the judicial system and therefore on the Government: Look here, our justice system does not discriminate. We are so passionate for justice, we even put MP's, magistrates, lawyers or pastor's wives in jail.
How many men are behind bars in Australia, caught up in false allegations, possible lies from disgruntled ex-partners, which were impossible to defend? How many other men had their lives ruined by greedy criminals, corrupt detectives and lying journalists?
My writing about the Liddy case, despite few telling me so, had convinced many. So much so, early in 2007 I had an email and subsequent phone call from one of Adelaide's most notorious whistle-blowers. More impressive is the fact, this man is on the other side of the fence, as it were, campaigning to bring child abusers to justice.
The gentleman had been a victim himself. He appears highly organized and has a network of supporters around Australia and around the world, including Hetty Johnson.
On January 8th we had approximately two hours of discussions at his residence. Despite being virtually on the opposition team he had followed my online path and is one of the few, who I know are convinced that a wrong was done to Peter Liddy.
He and his supporters, like many others, had in the past used the "monster" Liddy as ammunition in their campaign for child protection. Another politician, so I read online, from the Family First Party, used the name Liddy, as he successfully introduced a law, which removed the limit of prosecution of sex abuse cases.
(Until Family First was elected in 2002, abuse cases before 1982 were not being prosecuted. Some years ago, I had written that I approved of Family First's move to remove the 1982 limit, which they succeeded in doing).
Knowing what I know now, that there is a virtual industry, fabricating ancient sex abuse for money gains, I am more than ever convinced that truth is all that matters. (Lie detectors would be such a useful tool to avoid false allegations - Why does Australia not use it?)
I understand the embarrassment it would cause to people, if Peter Liddy were eventually proven totally innocent. Many people would have egg on their faces. Especially around election time it would not look good in front of TV cameras.
Above paragraph is not meant as a black mark against Family First, who was fooled like all of us, but aimed at the present Government, if indeed they decide to do nothing at all. What surprises me is that even the Liberal Opposition, which I once actively supported, is not taking up this cause.
On the day of writing I had an email from the staff of the Minister for Police, The Hon. Paul Holloway. They requested my postal address. I am waiting with baited breath to receive their letter in the mail.
Another official I have alerted to the Liddy case is the Federal Minister for Justice, the Hon. Senator Chris Ellison. (Thist (sic) is really his name). Last spring he and his staff were visiting our Makin electorate and held a public meeting. I was not brave enough to put my hand up in question time, and say: "I know of a man innocently in jail for 25 years; what are you going to do about it?
During the coffee break afterwards, however, I approached him, with the same message, but phrased it more diplomatically. He directed me to hand the leaflet I had prepared to his staff. Later I followed it up with an email or two, the latest only two days ago. In the six months since, I wonder, what did the gentleman do? Will he do something in the next six months?
A copy of the Liddy case I sent to the Federal Member of Wakefield, Mr. David Fawcett. (The fact that I know this gentleman personally has nothing to do with it). Mr. Liddy and his elderly mother live in his electorate. If the tragedy of a man in jail innocently is not an issue for a Federal Member of Parliament, then I have completely misunderstood, what a Federal MP's position entails.
How ironic, had I won preselection in the Liberal Party against Mr. Fawcett in 2004, and the unthinkable happened (my name with MP behind it), I would be the one picking up the baton, and run with it on behalf of Mrs. Liddy.
To demonstrate my love for justice on Valentine's Day 07, I sent the following email to the Member for Light (regarding the dark deeds that were done in Light). A copy went to the Premier, Mr. Rann, who has many times assured the citizens of South Australia that his Government is tough on crime:
Subject: Vital questions for Lovers of TruthDear Mr. Piccolo,For some months now I have intensified my campaign to reunite an elderly mother, living on her own, with her only son in Adelaide. The gentleman is Peter Liddy, who was imprisoned after child-sex charges, in 1999. Now, seven years later, I am more than ever convinced a huge miscarriage of justice has taken place in Adelaide. Mr. Liddy lived in Kapunda, his mother still resides in the family home in Gawler.I have studied the case and would not be talking as confidently, had I not come across some facts, which made me ask questions. My specific findings are in my Book 5, Chapter 13, which has convinced many that indeed the case warrants another look. I urge you to take this matter seriously. Please do what you can toward rectifying this injustice!It may rock this city and put egg on many faces. When the storm has passed, however, we all will breath freely again, knowing corrupt police has been dealt with, drugs are off the streets and the criminals responsible will be in jail or have fled our beautiful State. We can do without them.Here are the questions, which need addressing, the ones you could ask the Minister for Police and the Attorney-General, on behalf of your constituent.1. Is the Minister aware that in the case in question (Liddy), the convincted man is in possession of a document, which was not permitted in the court proceedings. In the document the main accuser stated clearly in a Queensland Family Court that he had never been abused as a child. Why was such a vital document not allowed in the court proceedings?2. Is the Minister further aware that three of Mr. Liddy's main accusers all had a criminal record, one was described by the defense council as Career Criminal?3. Is the Minister aware that at the time there were other boys at the Brighton Surf Life Saving Association, who also testified in Court that they had never been abused or seen any misbehaviour by the convicted Peter Liddy. (This was not reported in the media).4. Is the Minister aware that the Adelaide Advertiser never mentioned the fact, that the main accusers were criminals, that one was flown in from Queensland, and was promised a lesser jail term, if he testified in court against Liddy.5. Is the Minister aware that the detective, who first interviewed the alleged abused, failed to take tape recordings, which was against established procedures and directives from their superior?I could go on, how the alleged molested men, initially lied to police, then later explained it all way in court.It is beyond belief that the the jury still allowed the man to go jail for 25 years. Was there undue pressure on jurors or even a corrupt element making payments to the jury? This is the only conclusion any thinker with common sense can draw, to explain how this miscarriage of justice was possible.Anyone still not waking up to the injustice done, ought to speak to Mrs. Liddy or the chaplain, who visited him regularly for a number of years.Kind regardsDieter Fischer
PS The prisoner's mother is a bright, delightful lady. She lives in .... and would love a visit from an MP. She has a story to tell.
(The n in convincted - Question 1 - slipped in unintentionally - it fits. I left it).
- - - - - - -
I decided to show my (souvenir) finds from Smithtown, see last chapter. I never found an N to surprise JON with.
The day of writing is Valentine's Day, 2007. A good time to consider that the mirror image of the letter L is similar to the letter J.
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The day before Christmas 06 I was up early, as usual, watching the Hour of Power Church service on Channel Ten. In my spirit I felt an urge to check out the scene of a double road-fatality in Birkenhead, near Port Adelaide. I had seen it earlier in the week on the News. The picture of the crashed vehicle had flashed across the screen, long enough to catch that it was an early model Ford, light green in colour. That morning it came back to me.
It was a lovely morning, one of the longest days of the year. Normally I would have taken my bicycle, but felt not to do so. Driving west, via Mawson Lakes, my Suzuki's odometer clocked 231963 kilometres, right on the corner of South and Grand Junction Road. I noticed the Bridgestone Tyre Company.
Arriving in Port Adelaide, I parked right outside the police station, opposite the relocated Vinnie's (St. Vincent de Paul) Welfare Shop. A fire a few months earlier, had destroyed their premises, plus the *Conti Bar next door. Both were just a short distance south from the First National Real Estate Office and the Black Diamond Corner.
* Conti - a Da Ninci name in more ways than one.
My walk that morning turned into a rather lengthy excursion of discovery. I walked through historic Lipson Street, past the Maritime Museum and the red lighthouse, a landmark by the Port River. Checking the map to research this chapter I noted for the first time that Birkenhead Bridge is officially in Nelson Street.
Walking on I read many more Da Ninci street names. I suspected something, without knowing exactly what, except this can't all be without an intelligent brain behind it. Running off Victoria Road my diary records the names Walker, Gunn, Baker and Hilton Streets. On radio that very morning I heard this incident mentioned again on the news: "Police are looking for witnesses to the crash, which occurred near Baker Street".
My diary argues that it was actually closer to Hilton Street, where the crash had occurred. I saw the roadside memorial, right under the big tree, which stopped the Ford in an instant. It was right by the Adelaide Brighton Cement Factory on a four-lane, divided road.
The young man, J. Matthews, who had allegedly crashed his Ford and died alongside his mate, must have been driving at very high speed to loose control. On the street map (shown below) the bend in Victoria Road, the A 16, is barely noticeable.
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Map Birkenhead/Peterhead (Port Adelaide)
Scanning this map I noticed the postcode for Peterhead 5016. The locality in the UBD is Map 91, Grid P 3. Is there a hint of 15 and 1963?
Likewise Birkenhead's postcode (5015) looks so much like the word I had created - ISSO.
Note Rose Street and Emily Street, just before Mead Street on the far left.
Aha, just saw another street - Wokman (sic), read on). OH! And Francis St. OH! and ...
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Scene of multiple fatality - Victoria Road, Birkenhead.
This crash caused the only fatalities recorded in South Australia, over the Christmas break.
A slight bend on Victoria Road. Just before Christmas 06 two people died at this location. The sign on the right is the one above the cyclists.
Plus R: Red Work!
Brighton minus B: Right on!
The deceased was Jason Matthews. He loved his green Ford. He even was buried in a green coffin. I attended the funeral on 4/1/07 at the same chapel where years ago I went to that of Ben Mitchell.
I picked up a card on the ground outside. Another funeral was held at 10 AM, CLAYTON
Walking on, at the corner Rose Street a van full of codes: Rego: WHY EA - 105. This Ford Street Van is run by a drug awareness group.
The sign writing (and registration plate) certainly makes passers-by aware what they are on about. Do I see a link from car crashes to drugs?
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The 45 minutes walk I undertook after taking the photos at the crash site, was filled with codes and more codes. I was not getting tired of these or picking up trash, but as more and more data was coming up, making more and more links possible, it was soon time to move up another level.
Walking along Rose Street, left into Roberts and right into Dalton Street, I noticed an envelope, still unopened, on the ground. The name on the unopened account (Telephone (or Electricity) was D. *B....all. (This name will come up later).
The address was 29 ... St. (same number as this chapter). I had no idea where it was. Walking on, I saw the street and delivered the envelope, after a lady at No. 35 gave me directions. I hope Mr. or Mrs. B...all paid the account. Lucky, it never dawned on me to pay the account for them, it could have been costly.
After a further 1/2 hour of car registration plates, real estate signs, business names on parked vehicles etc, (details may bore the reader) I walked back over the other bridge, which spans the Port River - the J-Bridge. Three police cars were racing over the bridge, lights flashing, sirens blaring, shattering the relative quiet of Port Adelaide. It was not even 8 am that Sunday morning.
Stop Press: This is spooky. To get my data correct, I checked back to my 2005 diary. That walk across the J-Bridge, probably the first time I ever did, was on 24/12/07. This date was exactly 3 years to the day, when I had been surprised by one strand of dried spaghetti, shaped like a J, while doing the dishes.
Now I am glad I obeyed that prompting to go to Port Adelaide that morning, not thinking for one moment, what historic date is was. (On the day of final editing and uploading I first woke and checked the clock at 3.29 am. (Does the 3 want to dominate?)
Driving home via Regency Road/Torrens Road I decided to take a trip down memory lane. Since retirement from all on-road teaching, I don't get to places as much as before. I had long ago (Australia Day 05) been on a similar mission as on that morning, checking out a car crash scene.
On Regency Road, for a few minutes it seemed, I was suddenly, almost literally, controlled by another force, as I made my way through the back streets towards Torrens Road. This had happened many times before. When I then arrive at a place, which I could link, do I know, I had been led by the Spirit. (This is the best I can explain this phenomena).
In a short, narrow, residential street, called Collins Street, a sign advertised a black steel gate for sale. It was listed as 5 m long. I saw the item in the driveway. I didn't need a gate, at least not such a huge one. At the end of Collins Street was another sign: NAILS - a place to have your fingernails done.
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Actually, I am in the market for new fingernails. Let me explain. While I was working at the EZ Risdon mine in Tasmania I noticed my 2 thumbnails slowly developing an uneven surface. It looked unsightly, but made no difference otherwise or hindered any activity I was doing.
During a doctor's visit I showed him. He diagnosed it as a fungus I had picked up in my blood. Because he indicated it may spread to all other fingernails and toenails, I took tablets. After three months or so, there was only a slight improvement and I stopped the tablets.
Today the two thumbnails look a little strange, but no others have been affected. I can live with those nail marks. On the rare occasion I contemplate to see a nail beautician and maybe get false nails.
Hey, what if IT was ALL caused by the nails?
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From Collins Street I drove onto Torrens Road, without the 5 m gate and no false fingernails, I might add. I parked in the spot, outside a place called CAMM, where the Australia Day crash had occurred in 05. Suddenly I noticed their gate. It was almost identical to the one I had seen in Collins Street. It looked approx. 5 m in length.
I got out of the car and measured it with my steps. It was 5 large steps long. Getting back into the car I noticed the Sip and Save Liqueur store opposite. It brought back more memories. I had done a lot of sipping and saving since. (Different sips and different saves).
Just to double check, if the gates were really identical, I drove back the few hundred metres to Collins Street. The gates were the same. Moving on, having another look at the Nail place, their phone number revealed the 486 code, plus 95.
Now I also saw in the gutter a soft drink can. (To cover petrol expenses that morning a 5c can is better than nothing). I got out of the car and collected it. It was a can - Bundaberg.
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Out of interest - on Thursday 15/2 I was wearing my Coca Cola T-shirt. I remember clearly, because my friend Geoff had been visiting and commented on it. Afterwards I took Becky for a walk.
I can't remember ever, picking up 3 empty Coke cans. These were the only ones I picked up during that 25 minute walk. (Last evening, for instance, there was not one can or bottle, nothing).
- - - -
The name Bundaberg, both a town in Queensland and a brand name, brings to mind a rail disaster, which occurred on 16/11/04. It was a real tragedy. Or was it REAL? A tilt-train had crashed at 112km/h, nobody was killed, but many passengers were injured, mostly minor. An ambulance officer had stated the obvious - there were a large number of broken windows. At the time I laughed about this and what the head of Queensland Rail had to say. Things didn't add up, so I wrote about it in my Book 3, Chapter 37.
Glancing over the chapter 37, I had addressed the same issue, truth in the media, which I am leading up to here. In a very timely twist, Chapter 37 also mentions the case of alleged drug smuggler Schappelle Corby. As I am writing this chapter, the case is in the news again in a big way.
A close friend of the Corby family, Jody Power, now says that Schapelle is actually guilty. She had seen the family dealing in (orange ?) marijuana from Adelaide. Previously she had defended her friend. (E.g. Forget what I said before. It was a lie. Now I am telling the truth).
A TV Channel paid her for the interview.
Approximately 1/2 hour before writing this, I made a discovery regarding the Bundaberg train derailment on the website of the Attorney-General's Department in Canberra. Before disclosing it, may I add, that at 6.49 pm, not knowing what I was to discover minutes later, I had sent an email to the Attorney-General in Canberra, congratulating him for a decision he had made (details don't matter here).
Before commencing to write this chapter, I googled train crash/Bundaberg briefly to refresh my memory and the date it happened.
Surprisingly, the first link I opened was one by the Attorney-General's Department. The webpage was titled the EMA Disaster's Database. It gave an overview of the Bundaberg train derailment on November 16/11/2004. (Please note!).
What I read here on this official Government website didn't add up or make sense. (The website looked authentic, it included the Department's official letterhead etc. plus last date modified: 13/9/06 - Love it).
(Excerpt from the Federal Attorney-General's EMA Disaster's Database)
Loss Assessment Cost:
Commercial/Industry Cost: $75,000,000.00
Total Cost $0.00
Cost Source: Newspapers
(Above is a copy/paste from the webpage)
Further down on the same web page the name Bundaberg was twice misspelled Bundaburg. The number of injured was given as 123, six fewer than I had written in my book.
At 7.22 am I sent the following email to the EMA website:Hi all,Just checking your EMA database regarding the Bundaberg Tilt Train disaster I noticed the total cost as $ 0.00, whilst the Commercial/Industrial cost was listed as 75 million. Does this not count into the total cost. Plus the letter u slipped in twice - Bundaburg.I still picture a train, tilt or no tilt, derailing at a speed of 112 km/h. The pictures in the newspapers just didn't match at all what I would envisaged would be happening.Kind regardsDieter Fischer
Ephe 511PS That nobody was killed at that speed is indeed a miracle. Had there been fatalities, they would have literally been for nothing.
But there was more. As I read further down the page, the brief description of the disaster:. A train had derailed at 112 km/h, 157 passengers, 7 crew on board - a figure hit me. I was about to move on, but just for fun added 157 + 7 equals 164. I spotted these three digits in the date of the incident. From there it was a short path to seeing the rest.
Read below and judge for yourself, if my little discovery is not better mathematics than that of the Government's website. I felt compelled to sent this third email to the Attorney General's Department, five minutes later at 7.27 pm:
Email to Attorney-General's Department, EMA Disaster Database.
Subject: A number just came up Date: 15/2/07Hi again,A number just popped up:Take 16/11/2004, the date it happened.Take out the 164 people on board, leaves 11200.Take away the train speed *211 leaves 00.That was my query in the earlier email - total cost 0.0.Numbers are toys, really.Kind regardsDieter
(* I failed to check the text. 211 is a typing error - 112 is correct and makes sense).
Finally I am coming to the core of this chapter, another disaster, which occurred in April/May 2006. It was played out on Australia's TV screens, airwaves and the printed media. Like many, many articles, news items etc., this incident raised my mind's suspicious level to extreme.
There were similarities. The location, like Bundaberg, also starts with B and has three syllables - Beaconsfield. Dates also played a role, as I discovered one twist after another.
In brief here is what had happened: Two miners became trapped underground after a minor earthquake triggered a mine collapse almost 1 kilometre underground. After a two week ordeal, the men were rescued miraculously.
The drama started on Anzac Day, April 25, 06. I had classed Anzac Day 1999 as the beginning of my mission. Beaconsfield concluded 14 days later on May 9, 06. The number 59 was one of the very early numbers I had come across, later also 95. (I had walked on a road called Lambert Street in Hope Valley, Book 2, Chapter 31).
The postcode for Para Hills (5096) where we live, resembles the date 9/5/06.
Likewise the two miner's names Brant (B N&T) and Todd (D-dead) raised the question, how it all could be co-incident? On the other hand, if one shook up numbers or words long enough, one could just about come up with any number or message. This was the core of my dilemma, ever since I first observed letters and numbers.
If anybody wants to calculate how I came to 2160, the postcode for Beaconsfield is 7270 and the miners were trapped for 14 days.
I could start a competition here: What matching number can you come up with? First price a week in Beaconsfield, second price two weeks in Para Hills. Pay your $ 5.31 registration fee by clicking ...
(Looking at Beaconsfield's Postcode 7270, may be I was meant to be late uploading this chapter on 17/2/07?)
That the postcode would play a role makes sense. Approx. five weeks before the Beaconsfield media hype, a huge storm had hit the coast of Queensland, devastating areas around Innisfail, postcode 4860. The cyclone was called Larry. Larry Knight was the co-worker of the two men, the only person killed in the Beaconsfield disaster.
A further, rather uncanny name came to me recently. Deducting an e from Beacon, leaves Bacon. Jim Bacon, the Premier of Tasmania at the time, died of lung cancer in June 2004 in Hobart's Calvary Hospital.
The January 07 Edition of the Readers Digest Magazine features the Beaconsfield story in a lengthy article. Why it is advertised on the front cover as Book Bonus, I don't know. The author of the article is Tony Wright; nothing about the author or his book. (Correction - I have since noticed in tiny print the author and title of his book). The RD magazine article is just a description what happened on certain days of the drama. It is rather poorly written. (Sample later).
A political journalist, Tony Wright, who I had written to some years ago, regarding my theory of the Cameron deception*, appears regularly as guest on Adelaide's ABC Radio 891. If it is the same journalist is unclear. (May 07 - It is the same man).
* The Cameron case, as I perceived it, also hit at the core of my mission - truth in the media. I have never received an answer to my letter, which also went to the Federal Attorney General and several other prominent, influential people. Not one bothered to discuss my thoughts. (Mind, Chapter 44).
The Beaconsfield article in the Reader's Digest starts on page 121 with a photo of the two miners. It concludes on page 135. Here is the photo:
Clean faced - Brant Webb and Todd Russell.
Both were rescued after being trapped for 14 days in a small steel cage, almost a kilometre underground.
As if somebody was timing it all: Just before scanning this photo, I gave the widow of the late Ben Mc.. (who featured in my story, Mind *Chapter 8) a refresher driving lesson. She lives just around the corner in Todd Road).
* I just read parts of this chapter. I had written that God is interested in sport, even football scores. In the previous chapter was another clear demonstration of this (3:1).
A small footnote on page 123 of the RD magazine reads: Photo courtesy of Brant Webb and Todd Russell. Who was the photographer?
5 plus 1 days after being buried, on May 1, a hole had finally been drilled through to the pair. The first thing they must have done, cleaned their faces to look good on camera!
- - - - - - -
Having had doubts about what really happened, I read the Reader's Digest article more carefully. The initial blast, allegedly caused by a minor earthquake, "created a blast of wind, which hit Brant like a hammer and blew his cigarette clean out of his lips". It surprises me that smoking was allowed in the mine.
The two workers were trapped in a steel and wire cage. But worse, tons of rock, some pieces twice the size of a football, fell on them and had buried Todd. When Brant first found Todd, only his nose was sticking out. How on earth, if you pardon the pun, were there no serious head injuries? Brant eventually managed to dig out his mate. The reason Brant gave for wanting his mate freed, he didn't want to be left alone.
Using his cigarette lighter as source of light was not possible. After a few seconds the metal around it became too hot, according to the article. (I suggest we redesign cigarette lighter's, as a matter of urgency).
Even after four days of being buried underground, nowhere does Tony Wright's article mention, how the pair managed their sleep. Nor was there a word about hunger, thirst or withdrawal symptoms from cigarettes. Rather, on Sunday April 30th, they talked about country music. Todd began singing Kenny Roger's The Gambler.
Reader's Digest Magazine January 07 - P. 130.
After six days in darkness, no food, no water - they sang songs. Reminds me of two guys called Paul and Silas, except they preferred gospel to country.
Perhaps the dream of 'counting money, when the deal is done' kept their spirits high?
Salty Saltmarsh and Pat **Ball could have shown a little more respect after discovering the miracle: "Shut up in there, you blokes". They both heard it. F ain't muffled. (Love it).
**Hey, did I not report about a B...all a little earlier, in Peterhead, at No. 29... Amazing! I now regret not having written down the full name. First name was Dominique.
Meanwhile the media circus put up their big top in this small town, who few had ever heard of before. TV shows moved entire crews and reported live from Beaconsfield. One was Channel Seven's Breakfast Show Sunrise. Their big star David Koch one morning interrupted his reporting and said: "Over there somebody just collapsed".
David had witnessed a man collapsing, who later allegedly died at the Launceston Hospital. He was famous Australian journalist, Richard Carleton, notorious for his sharp investigations into even the most sensitive issues. He had worked for Channel Nine's 60 minutes.
Carleton had apparently suffered a heart attack during a press conference at Beaconsfield. At least those left behind were able to say: "He died, doing what he loved best." However, in my mind there is a big question mark surrounding Beaconsfield and Richard Carleton.
The most questionable aspect of Beaconsfield, however, is the moment all of Australia was watching, glued to their TV screens. At 5.59 am two fully dressed miners, with a spring in their step, emerged from a lift, as if they had completed their final shift before going on a big holiday. They first walked over to a wall, hanging up their safety tag, then turned and embraced family members in a joyous reunion.
After much hugging, hand shaking and backslapping in front of the cameras, both lucky men were ushered into the waiting ambulances. David Koch went over, leaning inside the ambulance to shake hands with one of the men. He was much criticized for doing so.
Without having any knowledge that a rescue was under way, at the very same moment the miners were freed, I had sent an email to seven contacts, those I had whistle blown to before. It was all about truth, truth which frees us all in the end. (Transcript below)
If my story of the cross sounds odd, so does the tale of Brant and Todd.
In the back of my mind I had a memory of a scene: miners miraculously rescued after being trapped many days underground, presumed dead. I googled for the mine disaster. I was amazed what I came across:
(From the website ABC's AM program, broadcast May 5th, 2006):
The Beaconsfield mine has striking similarities to a mine disaster in Germany more than 40 years ago. In October 1963, water flooded a mine in Lengede, near Hanover, trapping more than 100 miners.
Twenty-nine men died but scores were rescued. Amazingly, 11 men survived 14 days underground. As in Tasmania, the rescuers made contact with the men after several days and delivered food and clothing through a tiny tube.
(How amazing - in 10/1963 another legend (+ e) in Lengede, Germany)
As a boy of 13, the Lengede story made a big impression in my young mind. The media hype must have been as big as that of Beaconsfield. One thing I recall, the miners came up on stretchers, looking dirty and exhausted. Even the Germans, famous for doing things in order and following regulations, did not require the men to clock off after their 14 day shift. (At least I assume so).
I found it beyond belief that the Beaconsfield pair was not yearning for a clean bed, something they had not seen in 2 weeks. Sure, they had a shower and a clean up, but the fact they even walked unaided, is hard to grasp. It was mentioned, one of the rescued men was talking of going to the funeral service of their comrade, Larry, who had lost his life in the initial blast. Was it co -incident his memorial service was on that same day?
Speaking to a friend in church last Sunday, he said: "Now that you mention it (the miners walking unaided etc), that's a good question. I never gave it a thought."
To me it seems the average consumer of news seldom think for themselves. When it comes to food or diet we are so careful what we accept and what we avoid. When consuming stories on the news, which shape our worldview, most readers, viewers and listeners are far less selective and analytical. What appears on the TV screen, is backed up by radio and printed press, can't all be wrong. It really isso. Why even consider to question the matter, probing deeper?
True fact or fabrication, 99% of what the tabloid press dishes up does not directly affect 99.99 % of the population. For example, two days ago, it was reported a police officer, chasing a burglar, lost a loaded gun in a gully right here in Para Hills. It made the local TV News and it was scrolled across the screen on Sunrise, a nationally broadcast program. (I do not know, if it made their news bulletin).
Why on earth would I need to know that a police officer, lost his gun? Had I seen a gun on the ground while walking Becky, I may have checked it for numbers and codes. But does anybody imagine I would be so silly, I would hold it to my temple (strange word temple) and pull the trigger, to find out it's loaded? (You all do? OK).
Those unfortunate few, who are, directly and negatively, affected by news items, the Liddys of this world (and the D'Arcys - the Queensland case), could be running around, trying to convince the majority that it was all lies what people read in the newspaper about them.
Unless the newspaper prints the true story and the whole story, only a very few know the truth, the other 99.99% don't care. Much like the electronic media, the space around the news has to be filled with paid advertisement. (And how expensive it is! I know, I used to run a business).
The thinkers and the doubters, the brave LOT (Lovers of truth) are classed as dissidents, placed in the same box as those, who insisted they saw Elvis Presley in the Supermarket yesterday.
(I did, when I was in America. It was in Santa Monica. He was talking passionately to a lady, trying to convince her that the moon landing had been filmed in the Nevada desert.)
In my mind I sense a battle is raging - Truth verses lies. Jesus says: I am the way the truth and the life. The enemy, all who do not acknowledge the Lordship of Christ here on earth, are on the side of lies, greed and deceit, supporting evil. Some do evil without knowing it. They are blinded to the truth. Once you see Jesus, once you accept HIS cross, you will know truth. Truth will stand tall in the end, setting you free.
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Beaconsfield - May 9th 06 - 5.59 am AEST.
(From Reader's Digest Jan 07, Page 135).
The moment of "out-safe". Every Australia was watching this scene many times over. Two men finally freed after 14 days "buried alive".
Procedure dictated that after each shift, miners must place their out-safe tags on the wall. At least it looked good on TV.
Did they get paid overtime? They didn't need it. There a many media circuses around the world, hungry for stories of this nature. The Brants and Todds of this world are well looked after.
Within weeks Brant and Todd were in the USA telling their tale. Did anybody over there think, how strange it all was?
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(Back to 24/12/06)
Before leaving Port Adelaide on the morning of 24/12/06, I saw and took a photo of the advertising slogan - All I want for Christmas. Only two hours later I heard the exact same words from the platform at our church. In the introduction our pastor spoke them in the context of the true meaning of Christmas. (Leading up to Christmas 06 all I wanted was freedom for a man, who was spending his seventh or eighth Christmas in jail).
The photo I took, which revealed the incredible code L-REAL after I scanned it, was an advertisement for INTERFLORA. In my mind I am tempted to play with the letters, minus R, for instance, but as from today, the last chapter in this book, I have come to think it's time to move to another level, to grow up a little.
There is a reason I am saying this. On the day of writing my daily bible reading from InTouch Magazine is along these lines, headed: Putting Aside Childish Ways. The reading is from Matthew 6:19-20, which speaks of collecting treasures in heaven, not here on earth; right along the theme - What was it you wanted for Christmas? Did it make you happy? God gave us a child, HIS son. The best gift of all.
- - - - - - -
The evening News, on the day before rescue, featured again the Beaconsfield drama. A last minute difficulty, if I recall correctly, had suddenly become easy and rescue was imminent. The diagram, which flashed on the screen, explaining the final operation, looked as if it included a letter. I took it as code.
The falseness of it all hit me the next morning. I sent an email to a small group of contacts, influential people from politics, media and the church, pleading my case for truth.
At the time I sent the email, I did not know the final rescue was under way as I typed.
Email to 7 contacts - May 9th, 06.
From early childhood I learned from my mother that “ehrlich waehrt am laengsten” (German for - truth, integrity lasts the longest). In church I learned another truth about truth – it sets people free.
Over the years you have received my emails, where I had observed things, which I found hard to swallow. My sensitive spirit inside doubted and I would make sense of it by making a joke and emailing it to whoever. If I have offended anyone or been a nuisance, believe me there was method in the madness, as the saying goes.
Over these few years a strange phenomena had developed, by accident, as it were – a code crystallized, which I called the Da Ninci code. A turned to O or E, a R dropped off, the C became see etc. But the most impacting one was the D, which turned into N. Later I realized the two radio stations I was mostly listening to were 5DN and 5AN.
This was only one co-incidence in a long line of incredible events, amazing data, miraculous chain reactions, where I emailed, travelled, prayed, observed, prayed and travelled some more. The whole story covers 214 chapters in 5 books of my autobiography, which is free for all to read online.
When a society moves away from the truth, either in politics, the media or any sphere of life it is on the path to destruction. When people are saying there is no God, and if there is stuff him, friends, it’s time to turn back to HIM, the creator of the Universe, the most powerful being in heaven and on earth. No one will escape HIS judgment, if they don’t.
The miners will be free in Beaconsfield today, will they? Sophie is kept in an artificial coma in Sydney a while longer? The price of oil will be kept high, by an invented threat to supplies somewhere? How long will these games go on for? If they are not based on truth, they are destructive.
PS This morning God woke me at 4.14 am. HE knows the code. My mobile phone number is 0 414 59 44..
- - - - - - -
It has now been 50 months since I uploaded the first chapters of dieterfischer.com. When I first registered my name as domain name, I had no idea where my simple desire, to tell my extra-ordinary story, would be leading to. I became a blogger without knowing what a blogger was.
I had not the slightest idea, no detailed blueprint to meticulously follow. Rather I trusted God, that HE would lead and guide my fingers. Once I uncovered the strange links between registration numbers 301 & 228 and Joel 2,28 in the bible, I started wondering, if anything outside the normal was happening.
After Peter Liddy's name came into the picture, I again saw a link, the letter N, as in EN-FIELD, between Liddy/Lindy. Not to mention the numbers 5, 3 and 1, which crystallized during a fight with the Government, who introduced a new system of driver training and testing, I didn't agree with.
My main argument was, and still is, that co-incidence has it's limits. As soon as I started to realize what was happening, I became more sensitive. It could not be all without an intelligent mind behind it. I knew God, yes, God Almighty, the creator of heaven and earth placed his finger onto Adelaide, the Liddy case and, without wanting to sound proud, my family and me.
Looking back, readers with an open mind will agree, God not only guided my fingers, but my steps, my thoughts, my observations and interpretations. He showed in these 240 Chapters, HE is in control. Every human on earth knows and believes in a power outside themselves. Followers of Christ are to proclaim the world over that Christ is that force. No one comes unto the Father, but by me.
HIS is not an oppressing, controlling force. His power is the power of love.
I discovered more and more, there must be something behind it. I became curious to find out. My quest for messages, wherever they were coming from, was an outworking of the search, my curiosity - is this really you God? Today I am totally convinced IT is from God. The question is, what role does God want me to play?
I have experienced that HE can guide a person, very specifically and very timely, through HIS Spirit which resides in those Christians, who are hungry for IT. I have claimed that nothing is too hard for God.
My dream was and is to see the world change, to accept God's ways, to allow Jesus into everyday life, into the mainstream, as it were.
Only last evening I experienced this dream come true. During a regular ABC Radio program, broadcast life from a country town called Keith, a girl sang a beautiful song. She really meant, when she sang:
"Jesus you changed my life. You were the one to care, when no one would give me a prayer. I love you Jesus". I had never heard that beautiful song and was touched as seldom before, listening to mainstream radio.
Why is it Jesus is hated so much by non-Christians around the world? A Jew may get violent and attack a follower of Jesus? But not only the Jews, the fight against Jesus and the freedom HE brings, is universal. Ultimately, it is a struggle, who is in control.
- - - - - - -
Not unlike Christmas morning, on Saturday February 10th, I was working at home most of the day. During the afternoon a reported house fire earlier in the week kept coming into my mind. The name White's Road had my attention. I knew the road. Many chapters ago I had seen rubbish strewn all over the road. My spirit had prompted me to return later, and clean it up. In the process the numbers 7& 5 came up as if by magic, at No. 75 White's Road. (Mind Chapter 22).
It may have been the recent upload of the number 57 which gave me this feeling, I should check out the damaged house on White's Road. Around 6.30 pm or so that evening I took my bike for a ride. It was a great evening, warm, little wind. A ride on the bike was the perfect break from working all day.
IT started, according to my diary, on Frost Road. I found a 50c piece on the road as I cycled along. Minutes later, another coin on the ground in the middle of Park Terrace railway crossing (At this very spot 4 people had died in October 02. Hey, 4! That's interesting!) Read on.
This coin was a 5c piece. Believe it or not, I had hardly gotten on my bike, when I saw car rego ... 555 drive by. What followed was a cycle through Salisbury North - turn left here, turn right there etc. just like I did in the Suzuki the day before Christmas in Port Adelaide.
A street name took my fancy - Montissa Street. Readers may recall that in Arabic ISSA is the name used for Jesus. The street is J-shaped, how unreal, like a mirror image of L. House No... (special Da Ninci) was for sale by Brock P. the agents whose office is right by the Salisbury (5108) Clock Tower in John Street.
The place, where I had picked up the rubbish at 75 White's Road, no longer existed. A large area had been bulldozed, ready for re-development. On the way along White's Road I saw a sign ICE, with an address scribbled underneath, 53 Ltcame Road. (I am trying to not specify addresses. I would hate more house fires).
The way the sign was placed, the address etc, I sensed something. So I checked out the ice for sale. It was an ordinary residential area; outside No. 53 ... another sign read - Wingfield 3.5 kg, No. 14. In the driveway I saw registration plate ...185 (maybe not in that order) on a vehicle.
It all went so fast. Cycling on through the side streets, I saw a boy with a football jumper No. 12. It made sense a few minutes later. In the distance, across a reserve, near a children's playground, I saw a cardboard box. It was about 150 metres away and at first I ignored it. Then I saw a bin near it. My mind saw cardboard / bin and my bike turned to do the job. Checking the street directory, the road is called Venturi Av.
I kicked the carton without first getting off my bike. In the end I got off and picked it up. As I tore it up to fit into the bin, I noticed the writing on it. I ripped out a small section, to take home as souvenir. Here is the scan:
Real McCoy Snack Food Co. 4 Pa.
Was this meant for me, on 2/10?
Only as I cycled away I became aware that a man, dressed in red and yellow, had been watching me, sitting in his red van, registration No.... 012 (Yeah, the date, of course!)
Moving on I found the damaged house on White's Road, very close to the corner JON Street (no h). On the road outside the burned house, was in huge letters RIP DAVID. A passer-by confirmed, a man had died in the fire: "He was a really nice bloke", he added as he walked on.
From White's Road I turned east into Burton Road. At the corner of Torrens Ct. I picked up a piece of wire, shaped exactly like a 9 (or *6); a stone's throw further 2 cans, Hahn and Jim Beam, outside 5-11 Burton Road. (*Hey, just now I see it: 11-5 = 6). The housing estate is called Winzor Grove? (I like the Win bit, not sure on the rest).
Likewise, as I am writing all this, certain things make sense. I had picked up a box, empty of course, of Johnny Walker Red Label. It was in Frost Road, not far from where I had found the 50c earlier.
On the box are two numbers printed - 4462 - 3101. Just now I did the maths. It ties in with my son Jon's licence number - (BG) 1361, which I had written about the day before.
A further observation is worth mentioning. The location was very close to the side street, called "The Strand". I was wearing a red T-shirt The Stand, one I seldom wore. (The Stand was the original supporter's group for Adelaide United).
Friends, I may not make sense to some of you - but in my mind I do what I think is right. It may sound weird, but I have never claimed that my behaviour or even thinking is rational. God is looking for people who obey, who follow where HE leads. The rest I left up to HIM.
- - - - - - -
How did I view the big picture? Why did I make sense of my story, when my wife and family virtually reject the whole project? ("Go, get a real job").
I see such an uncanny parallel in the relationship with my wife, to that of God's people, the Jews and their Messiah Christ. HE walked right among them. HE healed people, opened the eyes of the blind, did sensational stuff nobody ever had done, or not for a long time.
How did the religious leaders react: "What a rebel, healing somebody on the Sabbath, in breach of regulation No... How dare he? The man is mad. He is possessed by the chief of devils".
Those Jewish leaders rejected HIM, because their eyes remained blinded. They could not see, because they did not want to see. All it took was a traitor, trumped up charges for breaching more of their laws and corrupt witnesses. In a show trial an innocent man was sentenced to an agonizing death.
What I have witnessed in the Liddy case, was not that much different - invented charges, corrupt officials and a farce of a trail with a blind jury. Jesus' betrayal and sentencing to death would be no different if it were happening today. Even in western civilized countries like Australia, the UK or the USA.
How many times have I tried to make my family see, showed them in black and white, things, which just can't be explained away as co-incidence. The harder I tried, the more I hit a brick wall. God has been trying to show HIS people, the Jews, for 2000 years, who HE is. They are still waiting for the Messiah to come the first time. HE is here the second time.
It makes me think, if I died for what I believed, that a man is in jail innocently and the same criminals were to kill me, would my family vindicate me, respect me, love me? Or would they still not read what I was on about?
Very early in my writing I had questioned, if I had to die for what I believed. At the time I regarded the death of a policeman on a motorbike as my symbolic death. It was a weird concept, but I meant it. I was under extreme pressure at the time and but struggled through it, with much prayer and the tablets my wife insisted I take.
Today I class myself as healthy. Prayer, a simple trust in God and close a friendship with HIM, brought me back from the brink of disaster to normal. Not entirely normal, perhaps, but what is normal?
Will I die? Yes, I will. But so will you, and you, and you. Am I the Christ, the second coming of Christ? I have no doubt people are thinking along these lines. Nobody ever challenged my previous statements. IT is GOD. What else can IT be? As early as November 2004 I have mentioned this. Who believed me? Who believes me now?
The bible speaks in pictorial terms about the second coming. All my Christian life I have envisaged this world-changing event like most of us: A tiny speck will appear in the sky and get bigger and bigger. HE will break through the cloud, become so huge to fill the whole earth amidst a blast of the trumpet. Then we all will be transformed in a nanosecond and meet the Lord in the air to be forever with him.
If this were so, HE would not have to set foot again on earth, if we were to meet HIM in the sky. If everyone will hear a trumpet blast, how can it come from a single source? If every eye will see HIM, how can this be when the earth is a globe? If all believers were transformed in the twinkling of an eye, what were to happen to our earthly bodies?
Modern technology explains some of the concepts. Every eye could see and every ear hear, if IT was a live telecast on TV or an event on the internet. A picture on a screen can change in a flash of a second, in the twinkling of an eye. How would it be possible to meet Christ in the air, unless we all suddenly could fly? But we could be caught up with HIM on the airwaves, in cyberspace?
God knows the answers to all these questions. How I wished I could finish this book neat and tidy, with a happy Hollywood ending: the innocent man is reunited with his mother, the criminals behind bars, the churches are filled with repentant sinners, wars have seized, all troops are home - enjoying freedom and prosperity. I wished.
But we must not give up, not pull back in fear. God is stronger than any force in the world. Let's keep on walking, pressing on toward the goal, HE set before us.
"He who endures to the end will be saved". (Matthew, 24, 13)
IT is the Lord's doing. IT is marvellous in our eyes. (Psalm 118, 23)
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End of Book 5.
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