15. A Royal calling
Returning from my second, seemingly purposeless, trip to the United States brought again much criticism from my family, and the usual silence from even close friends. Inside myself, however, I was sure what took place was real. Increasingly, I found myself pondering in awe, what was taking place and where it was all leading to.
My close connection, flying in tandem with HIM, made up for the negative view my family held of me. It compensated for the lack of a human face, who was willing to truly understand me and my unorthodox thinking.
One event in Adelaide stirred much public debate about our justice system in those winter months of 2005. It made waves also in my personal life, which made me ask many times - have I bitten off, what I can't chew? I am referring to the Royal Commission into the police investigation following the death of a cyclist on a country road, 60 kilometers north of Adelaide. Officially it was called the Kapunda Road Royal Commission (KRRC).
The KRRC, the first Royal Commission in South Australia in ten years, was sparked by the lenient sentence given to Eugene McGee, a prominent lawyer, who had pleaded guilty to causing death by dangerous driving. McGee only received a $ 3100 fine and was disqualified from driving for 12 months.
The public outcry was just as loud as the one caused in the Nemer case, one I have previously reported in some detail. On the surface it seemed that the judicial system in our state was favouring the rich and influential. I saw things from a different angle.
Originally, in early December 03, I had seen and read reports of what took place on November 30th 2003. I vaguely remember thinking to myself, as I had done in various other car crashes, something is odd here! What is it? At the time I did not follow the trail, like visiting the crash site, or sending emails expressing my doubts. (At least I cannot recall doing so).
Looking back, I believe, God knew all along that this crash would be thoroughly dealt with at a higher level, a Royal Commission. HE could see that an email to a journalist or politician at the time would have had far less impact than this opportunity 1 1/2 years later. To feel called to go before a Royal Commission, which investigates on behalf of the Governor, is ultimately making a submission to Her Majesty, the Queen of England. It is indeed a Royal calling.
The person chosen to head the Commission was a retired Supreme Court Judge from New South Wales, Gregory Reginald James QC (Q.C stands for Queens Council). Because it was such a rare event, there was much debating, expert interviews on radio and television and many front page headlines in the Advertiser.
The Advertiser Newspaper, Dec 2nd, 2003. Eugene McGee, a prominent Adelaide lawyer on the front page, plus the victim's alleged bicycle at the crash scene.
The McGee trial (not be be confused with the KRRC) commenced in Adelaide the day before I was leaving for the USA in April 05. Sentencing took place on April 15th, the Commissioner was appointed on 5/5/05.
When I heard on Radio 5 AN that this enquiry is open to anyone to go along and have a say, my interest level went a degree higher.
It was already at the top end of the SAFT (Stand Up For Truth) scale, for one simple fact: Mr. Liddy, the Magistrate, the man I suspected was in jail innocently, was a friend of Mr. McGee, a Barrister. Both men grew up in Kapunda, a former mining town, a good hour's drive north of Adelaide.
One journalist in an article in a national newspaper placed Kapunda into South Australia’s Barossa Valley, famous for it's wines. Kapunda is not part of the Barossa Valley wine growing region. The journalist's gaffe I regarded as a classic example of a sloppy comment, which could reinforce the view already in the reader's mind - that McGee was a heavy drinker. A professional reporter writing for a national Newspaper ought not to have made such a basic blunder.
Another reason I showed interest in this case was the fact that both Mr. Liddy and Mr. McGee were making headlines at the same time. Some of Mr. Liddy's hidden assets had apparently been located by Channel Seven's Today Tonight current affairs program. It was just too much of a co-incidence that a 5 year old case made headlines at the same time the defence lawyer in that court case was making headlines in his own, on the surface unrelated, matter.
One day in May, when the words Royal Commission, Kapunda, Eugene McGee etc were constantly reverberating over the airwaves, I phoned the ABCs 5 AN Soapbox talkback show and said the following (or words to that effect):
“The Road Crash investigation unit at the Adelaide University used to investigate every road crash which involved a fatality. Why is this no longer the case and was the road death of cyclist Ian Humphrey investigated by this unit?"
I was not expecting an instant answer from the radio hosts, but wanted to contribute to the discussion. In the mid 1980's, twenty years earlier, I had been told by a staff member at the University that their highly qualified team investigates all fatal road crashes in South Australia. When and why this had changed puzzled me. This case was a good time for asking this vital question.
One phone call confirmed that the Adelaide University crash investigation unit had no involvement in this case at all. (I will come back to this point later).
Photos in the press, and the few flashes I saw of the crash scene on the TV News, were one of the catalysts to take my observations further. I asked myself, why a bicycle caused such extensive damage, especially to the bumper bar of the late model Mitsubishi Pajero. The more I saw the vehicle damage on TV, the more my level of suspicion was raised.
Readers will recall that I had done a few amateur crash investigations over the past few years. In my own simple way I considered myself an expert. My style was simple - put your thinking cap on, carefully observe (on location, online and in the media) and when things don’t add up, speak out. As you will read, this is just what I did in this case. (Read on and see if you agree with my findings).
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A recent piece of magic.
Thursday 20/10 I went to the supermarket to buy 2 boxes (2x10 cartons) of milk. When I got home I noticed the interesting numbers on the two boxes I had picked up at random from a big stack. (The nutritional guide still displayed the chart for 1000ml serves and 100 ml serves - all the same numbers, except a shift in the decimal point).
The check-out operator added a Willow set 4 and then deducted it again. It was no error, but a code. SET = 531. Willow = ALL V's I. They were 4 it.
The Supermarket was not our local one. It was near the Blind Welfare Office, where I had dropped my wife off. Why was I shopping there, which I virtually never do? On the way I had noticed the green VW my friend used to own. I recognized the rego number RE...935. He lives near that Supermarket.
I had noticed a man, a look-a-like to a man named Dieter, sitting outside the supermarket. I felt I should speak to him, but didn't. On the way home my mind did not rest. I turned back. This time I found a vacant parking space beside a red Toyota Seca ( ! ) Rego ... 005.
The middle aged Dieter look-alike was still there, watching the Keno (instant lottery) numbers on a screen. I said: "Hello, did you know you look like ... ? Then I noticed the blue badge on his shirt - Master Locksmith. My mind was at rest now, but my heart beat a little faster.
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Over the next few weeks my probing of the question regarding the McGee crash investigation, and the damaged vehicle, turned into a minor project. In the end I produced a six-page document, outlining 13 points, which I saw needed clarification. What I discovered in my amateurish way may sound a lot, but what about the professionals, those men or woman, wearing dark clothes and blond wigs?
What really is inside those little black suitcases many legal professionals pull along when going to court? Is it really filled with endless copies of copies of photocopied documents, including all of last months cases, just to give it a little more weight? Or did his or her name come up on the lunch roster, and the suitcase contains everybody's sandwiches for that day?
From observing a fair few hours from the visitor's area of the KRRC, a lot of time, paperwork and obviously money, I felt was wasted through repetition and generally slow progress. Anybody was allowed to sit and watch proceedings, unlike in the Ashbourne/Clarke alleged corruption enquiry, another South Australian history making case, which was held behind closed doors.( Many people asked why).
I had a suspicion that much effort in the KRRC was directed towards not uncovering the truth, but to bleverley covering up lies. I do not mean by the Commissioner, but by those who wasted precious hours hiding the truth, when a simple statement of the full truth could have cleared the air in a fraction of the time.
My wife and other people asked me, why I was getting involved in this? "What have you got to contribute", they questioned? I believe, I have a sharp mind, a strong sense of justice and an equally strong desire to contribute to the betterment of society. In the back of my mind I also hoped to get an opportunity to finally draw the attention of someone, who would listen to my outside the box thinking, without suggesting I take tablets. (Reading the transcript I sense there were a few more people involved just for this reason).
If more honest people stood up and challenged suspected wrongdoing, far less criminals would get away with their evil activities. Nobody should feel a traitor for telling on somebody, who is committing a crime. Whistle blowers play a noble role in society. Why does their brave acts of challenging the authorities to release the truth, meet with such negative community response?
Where is the voice of the confessing church in our country? Are we just preaching justice or are we prepared to stick our necks out? Who will rise up for me against the evildoers? Who will stand up for me against the workers of iniquity?
The official start of the Royal Commission was on May 12th, 05. That morning I noticed my special number 153 come through in a strange way, a Spam. It originated in the US and advertised a casino in Las Vegas. I normally don't bother looking at Spams. I can't recall, why I bothered opening this one. Looking back now, I'm glad I did: two dices three faces of dots - 1, 5 and 3. Even if it was a fluke, I think this was unique and very timely.
Diary entry 12.5 (05).
There is an element of support for me in Adelaide and around the world. On the morning of receiving the spam I also heard an item about a speeding motorist clocked at 153 km/h. (The blanked out space is in place of the radio journalist's name).
I am not sure, if this unusual way of showing support was more encouraging than a simple phone call. The human voice of a friend to show some interest, to validate me, was something I could only dream about. As a whistle blower I didn’t have such a friend, let alone one who supported my course of action. He or she would be sticking their neck out, because I was sticking my neck out.
On a TV station I had heard that the KRRC was held on the second floor of 26 Flinders Street, Adelaide. On the morning of May 12th I took the lift to the second floor, but the doors wouldn’t open. I was the only person in the lift and for a moment was overcome with a sense of foreboding. Was I walking into a trap? What on earth was I doing here anyway?
Luckily, the lift returned to the ground floor, where I found out the Royal Commission was held on the first floor. Thinking about this later I wondered, if the TV station’s mistake was on purpose, a code, my two won code? Second floor/first floor on the 12th of the month? (As I write I am reminded today is the 21st of the 10th month, but slowly I am beginning to realize that numbers have done their job. Bigger things are coming).
After almost two hours of lawyer’s talk, mostly in a foreign language (or in special code), the clerk asked for anyone else to come forward, who wanted to make a submission. There were two of us. A young man with a long Greek name was called to the microphone. He indicated he wanted to speak about his experiences with corrupt police. He only took a minute.
His name and everything else can be viewed on the transcript of the KRRC http://www.service.sa.gov.au/krrc/KRRC
How did this make sense? In the Advertiser Newspaper 13/5/05, the day after taking submissions, my name is listed among the 12 main players of the KRRC. In contrast in the long list of participants (Appendix of the KRRC transcript) my name didn't even make the grade.
When my turn came I made the point that it used to be practice that the Road Safety unit at the Adelaide University investigated every fatal road crash in the state. Why was this no longer so, and why were these experts not called to investigate this matter?
The Commissioner indicated that this could be of some assistance to his investigation and asked me to find out as much as possible. He then briefed his Assistant regarding procedures using the coroner's report. The transcript states that Commissioner James mentioned the names Bilboa and Farquar.
Later, when making my submission, I was surprised to find that no inquest in to the death of Mr. Humphrey took place. More surprising - at that time Mr. James was not aware of this fact. (More on this later).
The whole session took less than 2 minutes, after which I was ushered into a side room to be briefed by the clerk. The Greek young man, was also in the room being briefed. (From the transcript I noticed his submission was taken in private).
That day was my first experience facing the media in person. I was aware that cameras, both film and otherwise were present. (They were allowed only on the first day, banned after that). It didn’t distract me as much as I thought. I was too busy concentrating on what I needed to say. (Email is still a better way to tell someone what you think).
Just before catching the lift to leave a man with a camera around his neck asked me for my name. I gladly gave it and asked, where he was from. He gave me his name and said he was from the Advertiser Newspaper. His name would re-surface only minutes later.
Talking about hearing a name and a short time later it re-surfaces - This morning I happened to a) meet a man named Bailey b) as a joke at an event I picked up someone else's name tag - Chris.
When I arrived home my wife said she had met an old friend from years earlier. Her new partner was Chris. The old friend asked my wife, if she knew a man named Bailey. I found this strange. (In a nano-second comes another similar example).
I had arrived at this Commission in fitting fashion - on my bicycle. Cycling along Gouger Street I spotted a narrow street with exactly the same name as that of the Advertiser photographer. Enough reason to turn back and cycle up this one-way street. As I did a young man was walking in my direction. He was wearing a jumper with the large letters JESUS. I couldn't miss it.
While in town I decided to check on the two old people, who lived near each other, and who I visited regularly. On Greenhill Road, right beside the Burnside Town Hall, I saw and picked up this matchbox on the roadway. I cannot explain, why I picked up this particular item. Maybe it was because a matchbox has to do with burning and I had picked it up right beside the Burnside town hall?
The more I look at the matchbox the more I see. On closer examination another link emerged - HOME BRAND. You have to be bi-lingual to see it - Brand = (House) Fire in German. Burnside is approx. 20 kilometers from our house.
The latest: On the way to church today the newsreader read about a fire. He corrected himself in a nanosecond - house fire.
As I cycled into the carpark of the nursing home where I was visiting Ben, a leaflet with the word TEST, in large letters, lay on the ground. At the time I felt constantly under test. I couldn’t resist picking up the paper; it could be a test?
It was all about good hearing, advertising a free hearing test. A form was attached. I knew somebody, who needed such a service, someone who should have her hearing checked. Why waste the leaflet, why let this opportunity go by? I sent in the form on her behalf.
A week later she (yes, her name is …) poked her head into my office and ask: Did you …? I pretended to be hard of hearing. You didn't...? I knew I had done it and no excuse about accidentally writing the wrong name on the hearing test form would work. Lying is not my style. I rather have a telephone thrown at me or eat Spaghetti three days in a row and have to do the dishes, than tell a lie. (Neither came to pass).
I wondered, if the people at the hearing centre had a good laugh, too. If indeed the invitation for the hearing test for my wife was a seeing test for me, they would have.
Watching the TV News that evening I found myself on camera, speaking into the microphone, using my arms and hands, as we Europeans do. On Channel Seven my moment of glory lasted 2 seconds, on Channel NINE one half of a second (this is no under-exaggeration). Despite the brevity of my screen performance, it was amazing, how many people later told me they saw me on TV.
The ABC TV News did one better. On the main 7 pm bulletin my hands did not move, my mouth did not speak, nor was my body visible anywhere. The ABC knew how to really make a deeper impact - they showed me for a nanosecond. The picture appeared and disappeared so fast, it only registered on viewer's subconscious level.
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Stop Press: It happens almost every time, friends, a timing factor I could not overlook. To the best of my knowledge, above is the first time I ever used the word 'nanosecond'.
On the evening of writing 'nanosecond' I was watching this video, number 8 in a series by a brilliant speaker from the USA. A kind lady comes around regularly and leaves me the latest video to watch. For various reasons I had not watched any of the videos for at least 6 weeks or more.
On the very evening after writing the word nanosecond the speaker used the word 'nanosecond' while making a scientific point.
I learned that 1/000 000 000th of a second is called nano second. I find it all a little overwhelming, not only the timing, but the word -nano second. But there's more - the lady who brings the video's has an unusual, Da Ninci laden, three-letter Christian name, Aty.
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Someone else had been up to tricks on the first day of the KRRC - the person, whoever it was, who planted something they wanted me to find - and I did - a five cent coin. It came after I had given my brief talk in front of the Commissioner and had been ushered into the adjoining side office.
On the surface a five cent coin on the floor is nothing. But all along I had suspected that there was a group of people in Adelaide on my side, journalists who love truth, politicians who think independently and - it may surprise you - church leaders, who believe what I had written.
In the past much of my coded support linked to the Liddy case, obviously because I had asked questions relating to the case. After my official involvement in the KRRC, I found codes were leading to the McGee case. One I had already mentioned in a previous chapter, the blue helmet, the deceased cyclist had been wearing (Book 3, Chapter 38).
Let me give you three examples, all of which point to a date in November. On the 30th November in 2003, Ian Humphrey allegedly had died.
Part of my concession card for subsidized travel on public transport. What made me think was the fact that my wife also received on of these around the same time. Her expiry date was nowhere near the 30/11/05.
Whoever is responsible made me a year older than 55 - plus 1.
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What are my options?
Excerpt from a letter, which came out of the blue this past week. Pardon the pun, but the company-Head office is located in Blue Street (I just noticed more, it's in No. 5 Blue Street).
The letter was about my options ... in my Superannuation returns, my way to riches. I needed to take action by 30/11/05, if I wanted that option.
Zu - in German means - to, towards. Doesn't this go well with rich? If the founders of the company were bi-lingual (German and English), maybe they were thinking just like me?
A third, long-shot connection to 30/11 came to me after I became involved in the KRRC. Chapter 1 of this book ended in an interesting twist about my name, which I created by swapping a X with an I, calling the chapter my X and I. It was the intriguing name of the side street, which made me play with it. My diary had recorded the house number, near where the incident took place. It was 113.
Just minutes before uploading this I saw another message in 30/11 (now my P/C clock shows 11.01) 301 is both my date of birth and car rego on our Mitsubishi WHO 301 won).
The very latest observation demonstrates the typical fashion I had operated under all those years. Madness and magic - it brought amazing results:
Less than an hour ago, I briefly slipped out in my Suzuki for 15 minutes to deliver some bread to my friend Dave. On the way I pondered, how to finish this chapter; more specifically, should I involve the numbers 30/11.
On my way back I noticed a few cars parked in our short street. One neighbour had visitors. One of the registration numbers was ...113.
If it weren't so, you would not read about it.