Night Stalkers

Caught in action!

Game Camera
Game cameras like this offer an affordable way to keep a record of visitors while you’re gone.

Last winter, I set one of my game cameras up on my unfinished deck. I’d found an animal turd on a piece of plywood outside my living room door and wanted to know where it had come from. So I set up the camera — and promptly forgot about it for six months.

Eventually, I got to work on the deck and the game camera was in the way. I brought it inside, where it languished on the windowsill beside my desk for a while and then brought it downstair to the big desk in my shop. I thought it had been turned off, but it hadn’t. It took pictures whenever it sensed movement until the batteries finally died.

Today, I pulled out both game cameras, put in new batteries, and prepared to set them out to see what they might capture while I’m not looking. I pulled both SD cards out of the cameras and had a look at their contents.

One camera included video shot inside the garage of my old Arizona house back in 2013. I’d set up the camera after I realized that someone — in all likelihood, my future wasband — had attempted to break in through the garage window beside the front door. Fortunately, we’d put a bar there years before that prevented the window from opening more than a few inches for ventilation. When I noticed it, the window was open and stuck hard half off its track. Since I did a lot of traveling that last season home in Arizona, I thought it might be a good idea to set up some kind of surveillance for while I was gone. We did some Googling, came upon this business: Video Cloud Surveillance Platform – Arcules – Get a demo today! And set up a consultation, which resulted in us getting the advice that game cameras in the kitchen and garage were a good and cheap solution. Fortunately (for my wasband), the only activity they captured was me and my friends coming and going.

Dawn Cat
One of my two barn cats looks out over his domain just before dawn last March.

The other camera was the one I’d put out on the unfinished deck last year. It was set up for motion triggers images. And what it caught kind of surprised me: my barn cats hanging out on the supports for the deck. Keep in mind that the only way they could get up to the deck was to climb at least ten feet up one of the posts. There was no ladder, overhanging trees, and no staircase.

Barn Cats
Here’s a shot with both cats. The surface they’re on was approximately 3-1/2 inches wide 10 feet off the ground.

Glowing Eyes
The cats spent most of March 27 up on the deck. According to my calendar, I’d just come home from a trip to California the afternoon before.

I found about two dozen photos with one or both of the cats in them. In most instances, they were either walking right past the front of the camera’s lens or sitting on one of the 2 x 10 beams that support the deck.

Nowadays, I think I have just one barn cat: the black one. Although I saw Black Cat just last night on the pathway between his “safe place” in the shed and my front door, I haven’t seen Gray Cat for months. I’ll likely get one or two new barn cats in the spring. I got them to keep the rodent population down so the snakes wouldn’t have anything to eat and it worked like a charm — I didn’t see a single snake within 200 feet of my home or garden. This is, by far, the best way to control snakes and rodents. Best of all, since they’re not really “pets,” they don’t take much care. I can provide enough food and water in their shed to keep them satisfied for a month since they supplement cat food with rodents and their water with the chickens’ water.

As far as cameras and security goes — without revealing too much, let’s just say that I don’t rely on game cameras for security anymore. I have a far more sophisticated system with live cameras I can access from anywhere. Of course, none of that really matters when my house-sitter has a Doberman and knows where I keep my shotgun.

And I never did find out where that turd came from…

North to the Future

About one of my photos and the plane featured in it.

I was in Alaska this past week. My friend George has a house up there and he’d told me I was welcome to come any time. Last month, when I was feeling kind of stuck in a rut — long story there — I decided that a trip to visit a friend might be a good idea. I texted George to see if he was going to be around, then bought plane tickets to go see him.

This was my third trip to Alaska.

The Alaska Cruise

The first trip, back in 2007, was with my wasband. We were married at the time and we went on a cruise out of Seward. He had friends living in Anchorage and we spent two nights at their home before heading north on the tourist train to Denali. After Denali, we got on another tourist train to Seward where we picked up the cruise ship.

The trip was memorable, but mostly because both Alaska Air and the cruise line had managed to lose various pieces of luggage in Alaska. It was a huge relief that the one remaining missing bag found its way into our stateroom on the ship.

Although I didn’t hate the trip, I was extremely disappointed. I detest being treated like a tourist and because my wasband had booked everything through a travel agent, that’s exactly how we were treated. I particularly hated the Princess-affiliated hotel we were stuck in near Denali with the boardwalk outside our room that people thundered by on at all hours. Even the cruise was a disappointment. Shuffled here and there, every port full of the same tourist crap shops and cooked-up attractions, and hundreds of midwesterners on the ship who bragged about how they kept their costs low with an inside cabin and no port excursions. Clearly most folks were on the cruise so they could say they’d been on an Alaska cruise. I was hoping for a more unique and positive experience.

Anyway, I blogged about the trip when it was over, so you can read a lot more detail and see some of the photos. Personally, I’d rather forget it in favor of some new Alaska memories.

The Job Interview

My second trip was in March 2008. I flew up to Anchorage for a job interview.

Robbie book cover
Alpine Air Alaska was featured on the cover of the 2009 book, “Robbie: The Robinson Helicopter Experience.”

The interview was at Alpine Air Alaska. I’d met the owner of Alpine Air, Keith, via email when we were both featured in Jon Davison’s coffee table book about Robinson Helicopters. (Can’t believe I didn’t blog about that, but I can’t seem to find an entry.) Keith’s operation was on the cover. I was looking for a summer job that would keep me out of Arizona’s brutal heat and Alaska seemed like a good idea.

I did a few flights with Keith — including one where we landed an R44 on a glacier and got out for a walk with the passengers — and got a chance to see how incredibly beautiful Alaska is in the spring. There was snow on the ground, but not much, and when the low clouds moved out, there were tantalizing glimpses of the snow-covered peaks around Alpine Air’s base in Girdwood. I had my camera with me — it was a Nikon D80 in those days — and I shot a photo right outside the hangar of a bright red and yellow airplane with the mountains beyond it. Later, I entered it into a state-themed photo contest. That’s where it got its name, “North to the Future,” which is the state motto of Alaska. (It didn’t win.)

North to the Future
Shot in March 2008, I call this photo “North to the Future.”

And that’s really what this blog post is about: the photo. You see, although it looks like a photo of a plane, it’s really a photo of a scene. The snow covered runway, the fresh snow in the trees, the clouds clinging to the mountains, the blue sky beyond, and this brightly painted plane looking as if it’s waiting for an excuse to take off. I just thought it was a great image, and the aviation theme didn’t hurt. It’s actually one of my very favorite photos. The colors and clarity still blow me away.

But the photo has a history beyond the day it was shot.

Condo Living Room
I happened to find this 2009 photo of the condo living room in iPhoto while looking for something else. You can see the photo hanging over the red leather sofa. (Seeing this photo reminded me how much I hated that place.)

It was among the first photos I had enlarged and framed in 2009 to hang in the condo my wasband lived in part-time in the Phoenix area. Back when he bought the condo in late 2008, I thought I’d be spending a lot of time there with him. Instead, he got a roommate, a friend who made me feel very unwelcome every time I came around. With my wasband living in the condo four nights a week, our marriage was suffering. In the summer of 2011, I asked him to get rid of the roommate so I could move in. By the time I moved in that autumn, it was pretty clear that my wasband didn’t really want me there; he was likely already planning his exit strategy for our marriage. By the summer of 2012, the marriage was over.

Still, the photo hung over the red sofa in the condo. Several of my other photos, enlarged, matted, and framed, hung in the condo with it. I wanted them back — I couldn’t understand why my wasband and the desperate old whore he was living with would want my artwork in their home. When the court allowed me to retrieve my things from the condo in November 2012, the photos were near the top of my list. My wasband made me ask permission to take each and every item, including the photos. Later, back home, I packed them up with plenty of bubble wrap in big, flat boxes, and moved them first to my Wickenburg hangar, next to my Wenatchee hangar, and finally to my new home in Malaga. (Oddly, I later got the red leather sofa the Alaska photo had hung over, too.)

Back to Alaska. The job interview that March went well and Keith made me an offer. After some thought and a discussion with my wasband, I turned it down. Ironically, I was worried that being so far away from my wasband for five or more months that summer would hurt our marriage. (It wasn’t the first or last time I turned down work because of him.)

It turned out for the best. I started cherry drying that summer — with a mere seven weeks away from home — and it was far more lucrative and better for my business than a tour job would have been. It also gave me a firm basis for my Wenatchee-based business when the divorce finally freed me up to follow my own path in life.

Trip Number Three

I went to Alaska for the third time this past week. I was feeling in need of a trip and had a free week on my calendar when George would be there, too. I invited myself and he welcomed me.

I’ll blog about the trip in some detail later this week — if I can find time. For now, I just want to talk again about that photo.

You see, when I showed the photo to George — I keep a copy in my phone — he said, “Oh, that’s Wrangell Air‘s plane. I use the same mechanic.” (Although George doesn’t fly for a living, he is a pilot with two planes and a gyro.)

A few days later, we took a drive down the Turnagain Arm. On the way back, we went through Girdwood. I wanted to see the Alaska Air hangar and try to better remember those few days in March seven years before. The hangar looked much the way I remembered it. But there was no fresh snow, no blue sky, and no red and yellow plane.

George wanted to talk to his mechanic, so we went to another hangar down the runway. Inside were a bunch of planes in various stages of undress as they were being worked on by two mechanics. Although the guy George wanted to talk to wasn’t there, he talked to another guy while I wandered around.

Plane
The red and yellow plane was in for maintenance.

And there was the red and yellow plane, in the back corner of the hangar, in for its annual inspection.

It would have been great if it had been parked outside in the same place and I could get a cloudy autumn version of the same shot. I doubt it would have come out nearly as nice, though.

But maybe I’ll get it the next time I’m in the area. Alaska isn’t that far away and George didn’t seem to mind me being around.

The Photo Today

Back home, I hadn’t unpacked any of my photos. My new home has limited wall space and I’m not quite sure where I’ll fit the large framed photos.

But today I went down into the garage where the big, flat boxes marked “Framed Photos” are leaning up against a wall. One by one, I opened the boxes and pulled out the bubble-wrapped frames. I stacked the boxes on the floor, ready for my next trip to the recycling center, and repositioned the wrapped frames where my other packed boxes remain. There’s room there now — I’m about half unpacked. When I found “North to the Future,” I set it aside.

Later, I brought it upstairs. I’d been thinking about how nice it might look on the wall over my desk. I unwrapped it and held it up to the wall. It was a lot bigger than I remembered it. It would be a bit of a squeeze.

I found a picture hanger and tapped it into place. Then I used a damp rag to wipe the Phoenix dust off the frame and plexiglas over the photo and mat. The wire at the back of the photo found its way into the hook without any trouble. I straightened it and stepped back to look at it. It’ll do.

My Office
I think my office is now officially finished.

Now that I’ve been thinking a bit about this photo and Alaska, I realize that the second two trips are far more meaningful to me than my first visit. Those trips were for a purpose other than trying to cram as many tourist destinations and photo opportunities into the shortest amount of time. They remind me how much I hate being a tourist and how much I love being a traveler. (If you don’t know the difference, you haven’t traveled.)

This photo is the perfect reminder of those trips to Alaska — and great trips yet to come.

Finally Unpacking My Heirloom Lamps

I unpack two prized possessions and tell the story of why they’ve been in boxes for three full years.

On Wednesday, I finally unpacked two of my most prized possessions: my antique lamps.

I have two of them, a Jefferson and a Handel (no, not a “Pairpoint Puff,” whatever that is). Their style is called “reverse painted” — scenes are hand-painted on the inside of a glass lampshade. When the lightbulbs under the shades are turned on, they light up the scene. They’re absolutely gorgeous, especially when lighted in an otherwise dark room. They date back to the 1920s, when they could be had for about $20-$30. They’re worth considerably more now.

Jefferson Lamp Handel Lamp
Photos of my two lamps in my old home. These must be old shots; the coatrack behind the Handel was replaced in the mid 2000s with a lodgepole coatrack my wasband gave me for Christmas.

Note from Grandma
I took a picture of this note from my grandmother as a keepsake and it’s a good thing I did. It was evidence that I’d gotten the lamp prior to my marriage. The piece of tape with my name on it was stuck on the lamp for years; my grandmother wanted everyone to know that I should get the lamp when she died. In the end, she gave it to me four years before she died and I brought it from New Jersey to Arizona on the plane.

I got the Jefferson (the smaller blue one) from my grandmother before she died in 2002. I bought the Handel from my godfather, an antique dealer who specialized in lamps, a year or two later. The two lamps were accent pieces in the living room of my Arizona home.

Until I packed them.

When I got home from Washington in September 2012, my main concern was packing up my belongings in preparation to leave my home. You see, my husband at the time had found himself a new mommy/girlfriend online while I was gone, a desperate old whore 8 years older than him — yes, I know because everyone says it: bizarre — who would take my place in his life. (Or try to.) My now wasband had assured me that he wanted a quick settlement so we could save money on legal fees and get on with our lives. I figured I had just a few weeks to pack up my belongings and move out. The ones that meant the most to me would be packed first: the lamps and my Navajo rug.

An Update on the Divorce Book

My divorce was finally settled about a month ago — more than three years after my husband told me, on my birthday, that he wanted a divorce. It was a crazy, traumatic part of my life that I’m still in disbelief about. How can a good and reasonable man become so angry, vindictive, and delusional?

Back in 2013, I blogged about the contract I’d been offered for a book about the divorce. The book was delayed until the divorce was completely settled. For a while, I didn’t want to write it anyway — there was too much pain when I thought about how my wasband had thrown away the incredible life we were on the verge of having together. (As Adele says in this song, we could have had it all.) But as my new life got better and better and I saw how much I’d been able to achieve without him, I realized how much he’d held me back. I was truly so much better off without him. And while the pain of his betrayal will always be with me to some extent, I can now laugh with my friends over the things he and that old whore did to try to force me to settle, especially during the first year of the divorce process. And the appeal. And his attempt to get the appeals court to reconsider their decision. He’s crazy — that’s clear. And the story is incredible. It would make good reading.

A project for this winter? I think so. I think it’s time. And I have plenty of blog posts, email messages, and court documents to back up my tale. I think I might even get a chance to reveal the slutty 30-year-old lingerie photos the old whore sent him as part of her seduction routine. The playing cards I had made with those images are a real hit with friends. I wonder if he uses the two decks I left behind for him?

It’s a shame, really. As it turned out, my wasband wasn’t the least bit interested in a reasonable settlement. Not only did he want the paid-for house and everything in it, but he expected me to pay off the $30K balance on the home equity line of credit, give him another $50K in cash, and walk away with my business assets and retirement funds — most of which had been acquired before our six-year marriage. When I refused, and he refused my generous counteroffer, the lengthy (and costly) divorce battle began, made even lengthier by his repeated failure to comply with court orders and his delaying of the divorce court dates. So, as a result, I was stuck in the house until May 2013, with plenty of time to pack. I could have packed the lamps last and enjoyed them those last eight and a half months at home.

(And if you’re wondering how it all turned out, my wasband lost. And he lost his appeal, too. And he wound up paying me more than I’d asked for in my counteroffer back in December 2012. So much for saving money on legal fees. It cost him more than $200K than it could have to end the marriage, and he didn’t even get to keep the house. What an idiot. I swear he wasn’t this stupid — or greedy — when I married him. He must have picked up those traits from the old whore.)

Anyway, my lamps and rug were packed first. I packed them carefully, with plenty of packing paper and bubble wrap in a huge box. I nestled the two shades, one inside the other, with bubble wrap between them. The lamp bases went below them with their tops boxed up and cardboard separating their part of the big packing box from the glass shades. The rug went on top. I also packed the wooden “building” that goes with my Hummel nativity set — another heirloom item — along one side of the same box. (The figurines were also packed early on, but in a separate box better suited for their size.)

Boxes in Hangar
I stored my possessions in my old hangar until they could be moved to Washington. This shot was taken the day I moved out of my Wickenburg home: May 30, 2013.

The box with the lamps went right from the house to the hangar I rented at Wickenburg Airport. They sat there, on a pallet in case of flooding, for a full year.

Moving Day
The movers to my Wickenburg hangar in September 2013.

In September (no, not June) of 2013, movers transported everything in the hangar from Wickenburg Airport to Wenatchee Airport, where I was renting another hangar. The boxes remained stacked up in the new hangar.

Wenatchee Hangar
Most of my worldly possessions were stored in a hangar I rented in Wenatchee from September 2013 through June 2014. Boxes, vehicles, cargo trailer, and boat on right, furniture on left, helicopter with ATV in center for easy access to door.

Items Stored In Building
Here’s a shot from above after my friends helped me move everything into my building in June 2014. What a mess!

In June 2014, my friends helped me move everything from that hangar into my new building at my new home. The boxes were stacked haphazardly all over the back of the building. I moved them into the middle of the building and later, when I needed to get the RV in, moved them to the shop area. Sometime during the winter, I organized them by room so I could find things I needed to get at.

With all of these moves, the lamps’ box had been somewhat crushed by having other boxes stacked on top of it. I became a bit afraid to open it up. I was worried that the lamp shades — remember, they’re made of glass — had been damaged.

But this week, I decided that it was time. I had some friends coming from Auburn for a visit to see my new home. I’d already had custom end tables made and they’d been in my living room, looking bare, for about a month. There were only three things the living room needed to be finished: windowsills, a coffee table, and the lamps. The room would look more finished with the lamps. I wanted the room to look as finished as possible before my friends arrived so I had to get the lamps in place.

I unpacked the lamps on Wednesday. I still can’t believe how much paper was in that box. I certainly do know how to pack! And I’d worried for no reason: they were in perfect condition.

It took me four trips to bring them up from the garage: one each for the lamp bases and one each for the shades. I wasn’t taking any chances. I’d carry each one carefully.

I put the Handel on the table closest to the kitchen and the Jefferson on the table closest to the deck door and my desk. (Another heirloom lamp, my monkey lamp, is already on my desk.)

They looked beautiful in my nearly finished room. I took a picture. On Friday, I shot a video of the room and shared it here on Saturday.

Lamps in Living Room
The lamps, one on either end of the nine-foot sofa, almost complete the living room.

Reverse Painted Lamps at Night
My lamps look best at night, when they provide the only illumination in a room.

Last night, I settled down for an hour or so on the sofa in front of the TV. I remembered the lamps. I killed all the lights in the room and turned on both lamps. They cast the perfect amount of light for an evening of relaxation in my new living room.

After three years in a box, I finally get to really enjoy them.

The ironic part about all this: I’ll get more use and enjoyment out of them here, in a room I use every day, than I got during the 10+ years they were in my Arizona living room, a room I only used when I had guests. And every time I light them up, I’ll think about the people I got them from: my grandmother and godfather, both now gone.

Thanks Grandma and Jackie! I’m taking good care of them.

Construction: My Almost Finished Living Room

A video tour of my living room, which is now almost done.

Yesterday morning, I made a video of my living room setup. Thought I’d share it with folks who want to take the tour:

On May 20, 2014, I began blogging about the construction of my new home in Malaga, WA. You can read all of these posts — and see the time-lapse and walkthrough movies that go with many them — by clicking the new home construction tag.

I admit that I sometimes refer to this as my “trophy room.” That’s because the red leather sofa, TV, and stereo surround-sound system came from the condo my wasband bought as a place to live during the week when he worked in Phoenix. To this day, I’m not sure why he agreed to let me have them. The only reason I included them on the list of personal property I wanted was so I could give them up in the bargaining process. But he agreed to the whole damn list — after stewing on it for months — in exchange for me moving out of the house. Joke’s on him: I had to leave anyway for my summer work and my RV and helicopter were already onsite in Washington.

My Living Room
My almost-finished living room; a very pleasant place to hang out.

The leather sofa is very comfortable and has a sofa bed tucked into it. My ex-sister-in-law, who I’m still in contact with occasionally, gave me two of the four pillows on it as a housewarming gift. The rug, storage “bar” behind the sofa, and black leather cushions on the chair are new from IKEA. The lamps are heirloom items — more on those in a future blog post. The rest of what’s in this video are a mix of new items I bought over the past three years and items moved to Washington from my old home in Arizona.

The room is almost done. I just need two things:

  • Windowsills. I have temporary window sills in place under most windows. I was going to make them out of 1×12 lumber and actually finished a few of them, but my friend Don offered me slabs of wood that match the tables he made for me. I can then make windowsills out of that. Trouble is, Don needs to get his friend with the bandsaw on the program to get me the slabs. Then I need to cut, stain, and finish them. It’s a big project and I don’t expect to have it done anytime soon. So I have trimmed 1×10 and 1×12 planks for temporary use. I probably won’t bother staining them, so I can use them for something else in the future.
  • Coffee table. Don made me custom TV table and end tables. They were cut from power poles that survived a fire back in 2010 or 2011 near the Rocky Reach Dam, upriver from Wenatchee. They have a lot of personality, with actual scorch marks on the live edges. I like them so much I’ve asked Don to make me a matching coffee table. We discussed it in some detail yesterday. I hope to get it within a month or so.

The jury is still out on the rug. I bought another one at Pier 1 that I’d like to try. This one might be okay with a coffee table over it.

And yes, I know I should get a universal remote. But honestly: I don’t watch very much television. The view out the windows is much more enjoyable.

The place is coming together. It’s already a far more pleasant home than the one I left behind in Arizona.

A Ghost in the Machine

Traces of a past best forgotten pop up in the most unexpected places.

This morning, I unpacked and installed my HP color laser printer. I’d been using a cheap Brother laser printer — the one I’d bought years ago for home when I moved my office to a condo in Wickenburg for a few years — since moving to Washington state two years ago. The Brother is very fast and reliable with perfectly fine print quality for the limited amount of printing I do. But I needed a color printer to print some satellite images for the pilots who will be working with me this summer and since the HP was packed in its box in my shop storage area, I figured I’d bring it up.

I honestly can’t remember where the printer was when I packed it. I’d had it in my office in Wickenburg for quite a while but in 2011, in a failed attempt to appease my husband (now wasband), I’d moved my office to the condo he was living in during the week in Phoenix. The idea was to spend more time with him, which he led me to believe he wanted.

But that move also came with a lifestyle that had me shuttling back and forth between Phoenix and Wickenburg every week — weekdays in Phoenix, weekends in Wickenburg. After spending the whole summer living in an RV every year, I wanted to be home. In one home. With my office in Phoenix, whenever I had a book project, I needed to be there. And I work weekends when I have to. So instead of spending most of my time in my comfortable Wickenburg home, I wound up spending most of my time in a dark, depressing, noisy, and privacy-free condo in Phoenix that I never even liked. Meanwhile, he kept going home on weekends, making we wonder, at times, why I’d moved at all.

Anyway, I don’t remember if I moved the printer down to that office. I might have. If I did, it was likely one of the possessions I had to beg him to let me have back when he and his mommy/girlfriend began their reign of harassment in the early days of divorce proceedings. In any case, I still had the original box — I kept all boxes in my hangar — and I packed it in its original foam. I’m pretty sure the Brother was in the condo — it was in the cabinet under the TV — and I can’t remember if I got it the day I came to retrieve my possessions or before that.

Honestly, the whole thing is a blur and that’s probably a good thing.

Today, I moved the Brother off my file cabinet — another possession I had to ask for — dusted the cabinet’s top off, and set the HP in its place. It uses the same cables, so I just hooked it up to power and USB. It immediately came to life with a Paper Jam error message.

I opened the printer’s big front door. The sheet of paper was clearly visible and easily removed. As I pulled it out, I wondered why I hadn’t removed it when the jam occurred. Then I looked at it and realized that I hadn’t printed it. My wasband had.

Email Jam
The ghost in my machine was a jammed email message printout.

It was an email message I’d written to him back in 2007. It had two attachments, one of which was a PDF of my flight plan. The message told him that I was flying from Page, AZ up Lake Powell and into Canyonlands National Park. I was apparently on a charter flight — probably a photo flight I did with a photographer trying to get images of certain landforms from the air for an advertising poster. I vaguely remember the early morning flight and the photographer holding a camera sitting on a Kenyon gyro. I could probably track down more details in my log book.

I know I’d used the printer after 2007. Heck, I’m not even sure if I owned the printer in 2007. That meant my wasband had printed a long-saved email message while I was gone, probably in the summer of 2012, when he hooked up with his girlfriend/mommy and his delusions went into full swing.

I have an idea why he might have printed this old email. In his deluded mind, he was convinced that he had helped me build my helicopter charter business. That’s how he justified going after half its assets in the divorce. He was unable to prove his case in court — most likely because it wasn’t true — but I assume that he was collecting email messages related to that business as part of his case.

Of course, the reason I sent him an email message with my flight plan that morning at 3:06 AM was because he was my husband and I thought he’d care about my route. At that point, before his delusions began, I think he really did. He might have even still loved me back then.

But mental illness does funny things to people. Once the love was gone and the greed-fed delusions took over, he saw everything even remotely related to my business as evidence of me using him without compensation. I’m sure his lawyer(s) got a stack of email messages from me to him that he thought could help his case in court.

Printed on my printer.

Finding this message jammed in my printer makes me even sadder for him than I already am. His illness, fed by bad advice by manipulative people he trusts, caused him to throw away so much — not the least of which was a friendship and a ton of money. I doubt anything remains of the good, honest man he once was.

I’ll throw this ghost into my recycle bin. Another reminder of a lost life swept away.