|
christmas boots posted:Not that it actually answers the broader mystery, but if he was on Hwy 82 near Moxee, he may have been coming from the Yakima Training Center, a Military training facility/NSA listening post a little ways north. That could explain the military fatigues. Lewis was also a judge in Amarillo. I want to know what cases he presided over. He also taught a law class. -Thursday, he said he was sick and left work early, but showed up to teach his class that night. -Friday, he was acting suspicious at the airport and mentioned flying back from Dallas. A cop noticed his red Explorer parked outside the courthouse. -Saturday, someone deposited $5000 into his bank account. A neighbor saw him parked at home. -Sunday, a sheriff's deputy saw him outside of the courthouse again taking pictures of a red Explorer. This is the last time he's seen before he's spotted in Moxee, WA the next day. -Monday, around 10:30 PM, he's struck and killed by a hit and run driver He has no ID and is wearing a military uniform. -Tuesday, his red Explorer is once again outside of the courthouse. His personal effects are inside. At the time of his death, this places him between 30 and 35 miles from Hanford Nuclear Site. At the time, Hanford held the most plutonium waste storage of any site in the US. The third most was a Pantex (warhead manufacturer) plant 15 miles outside of Amarillo, TX. Odd behavior in the days before he died, a mysterious cash deposit, inexplicably traveling with no personal effects between two major nuclear weapon sites, I'm not saying this holds water, but maybe be a tiny bit less certain that there's no reason to suspect foul play.
|
#
¿
Feb 14, 2022 22:32
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ May 15, 2024 05:30 |
|
|
BOOTY-ADE posted:One thing I didn't see mentioned is the rest of the whereabouts of the red SUV when it wasn't at the courthouse nor his own home. 1600 miles is a hell of a trip but could be done in less than a day, my older brother used to make long cross-country trips to see family & could easily drive 1500 in 18-20 hours if he took minimal breaks. Weird that nobody thought to check the odometer or search around for anyone who might've seen a red Explorer with specific tags traveling between states, but maybe I'm just overthinking it. I'm going to start looking into a few things that might produce interesting posts for this thread. It's going to take a long time since there's going to be a whole bunch of research involved, probably a few FOIA requests (and holy poo poo do they take loving forever these days*), and probably just drop most of them if there's nothing conclusive, but there are definitely a bunch of questionable deaths among groups like people who questioned US nuclear weapons or energy policy and safety (there were a couple of good posts about Karen Silkwood in this thread), scientists from GEC-Marconi working on Strategic Defense Initiative in the '80s, two strings of deaths among world class infectious disease experts who would know a few things about making or defending against bioweapons, and any suggestions you might have. There's also the one that recently got my attention, people whose deaths were attributed to the Clinton Body Count conspiracy theory that your uncle forwarded you in 1995. I think there's enough evidence to prove that at least 3 of them were people who flew too close to the sun in regard to Iran Contra and CIA drug trafficking. * - thanks, State Department, for taking 8 months to respond to my FOIA request regarding all memos, correspondence, and references to a document with a copy of the document I asked about. I didn't think the Russians actually destroyed a secret US moon base, or that such a thing existed, but apparently there were tabloids in Soviet republics and I'm disappointed that apparently no full text still exists. Might have made for a good pulp sci-fi story.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 16, 2022 06:03
|
|
|
Wasabi the J posted:I will say, it's really easy to get fatigues around a military town, not least of all because surplus stores are full of them and deal in cash.
|
|
#
¿
Feb 16, 2022 13:41
|
|
|
Like a lot of things with the human body, your skin is more elastic and able to shrink back after weight loss when you're younger, and even then there's a lot of variation. For some unnerving content, Humans of New York is slowly sharing a story today that's giving me a growing feeling of impending doom with each part. CW for domestic abuse, self harm, and child sexual abuse. I'm spoiler tagging the whole thing (up to part 9/13 now) so anyone who might find it triggering or upsetting can just scroll past. It gets worse with every part. UPDATE: the whole story has been shared and posted both on the website and their social media accounts. There's a happy ending to the story after the abject horror. Click through for photos accompanying each part of the story, and Facebook link since they're a couple of parts ahead of the website https://www.humansofnewyork.com/ https://www.facebook.com/humansofnewyork/ quote:(1/13) “We went on a cruise for our ten-year anniversary. There was this dance competition. They came out on the floor and tapped four couples, and they tapped us. Tripp was towering above everyone. He’s 6’3”, 6’4”, dancing in the middle of the crowd. He’s so stinking cute. Acting so stupid, getting the energy of everyone around him. And I’m just loving him. That’s why it’s still so hard. You’d think I hate him, but I can’t. Because I loved him. Everyone did. I can’t tell you how many people pulled me aside, and said: ‘You are married to the greatest man.’ We were PTA presidents together, and everyone liked Tripp more than me. Because I’d say what I thought. But no matter how ridiculous the person was being, Tripp would make them feel heard. Like he was going to personally address their problem. He taught our Bible study. He hosted all the school fundraisers. He coached all our son’s football teams. Tripp used to play for the University of South Carolina, or so we all thought. He’d bring our entire family to every home game. He’d sweet talk his way past the security guards and get us in the locker room. He’d show us his old locker. He’d tell us stories, about how the coach used to tell the team: ‘If everyone played with half the heart as Tripp, we’d have won Nationals.’ All the team photos were hanging on the wall. And Tripp wasn’t in any of them, which we thought was strange. But he told us that he’d been sick that day. One time we were on the way to a game, sitting in bad traffic, and the team bus drove by. Tripp pulled right behind it. A motorcycle cop pulled up to the side of the car, flashing his lights, telling us to pull over. Tripp looked the cop right in the eye, and said: ‘We’re with the team.’ And he believed it. That’s how Tripp was. You’d believe anything he said. Within five minutes of meeting you, he’d put his arm around you, and tell you that he loved you. And you’d believe it. After Tripp went to prison, he wrote me a letter. ‘It’s better than I thought,’ he said. ‘It’s actually less stress than being on the outside.’ I think he was just relieved that he didn’t have to lie anymore. Part of him was happy that it all came crashing down.” quote:(2/13) “My first memory is watching my mother’s fingernails. My stepfather would make me sit beside the couch, and watch her fingernails. If they turned blue I was supposed to call 911. She’d be in bed when I left for school. In bed when I came home. There was nobody to make me breakfast. Nobody to brush my hair. I remember my older sister got in a fight on the school bus, because other kids were making fun of my hair. Last time I saw her she was in a mental institution. My brother ended up in maximum security prison. All of us handled our trauma differently. I hid it from everyone. I never invited anyone over. I didn’t want anyone seeing the gazillion roaches. I didn’t want anyone seeing the pill bottles all over the floor. It was chaos in our house. My mother was always angry about something. One time she lied to the insurance company and told them that somebody stole Christmas. That one I’ll never forget, because my aunt called my school. She said: ‘Your mom is in jail, and she just tried to kill herself by sticking her head in the toilet.’ I did life all by myself. On Sunday I’d go to church alone, and study the good families. I tried my best to act like a lady. I didn’t drink, or cuss. I remember junior year I got invited to prom, and that was a huge deal for me. I’d changed high schools six times. I couldn’t believe someone had asked me. I gave a girl $50 to use her dress. I spent the whole afternoon getting my hair done. I was in the bathroom finishing my make-up, and the door swung open. In came my mother. She said: ‘You’ll never be as pretty as me.’ She put her fingers in my hair and messed it all up. Right at that moment the doorbell rang. I could have let her win. I could have gone in my bedroom and cried. But I spent fifteen seconds fixing my hair, and I walked out the door. I wasn’t going to let her take that night from me. I wasn’t going to let her ruin my life. I did everything by myself. Nobody paid me any attention. I graduated high school. I got accepted into the University of South Carolina, and that’s where I met Tripp. That’s one thing about Tripp, he could pay you attention. He could make you feel like the only person in the world.” quote:(3/13) “He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. All-American. Great shape. The cutest little dimple. And the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. On our first date we went with a bunch of people to a golf tournament in Hilton Head. All of us were sharing a hotel room. I hadn’t been with many guys before, so I was so nervous. I had Tripp go to the store and buy me tampons, just in case he wanted to try anything. But he never tried anything. He laid in bed and played with my hair the entire night. For weeks we slept together, without sleeping together. Door closed, lights off, nothing. Tripp was the first one to say ‘I love you.’ I’ve always been uncomfortable with those words, because I never had anyone to say them to. But one night we were kissing passionately in my dorm room, and Tripp just said it. I couldn’t say it back. I told him: ‘I think you’re really nice.’ But he was fine with that. He was the perfect gentleman. Tripp was the president of his fraternity. He’d take me to these parties, and he’d be the center of attention, all his brothers called him ‘Killa.’ He was a cheerleader for the football team, but he told everyone that he used to play. When he got injured his freshman year, the coaches made him a cheerleader so he could keep his scholarship. Tripp’s parents owned an Asbestos removal company, and they did well. Tripp drove a corvette. His family had a beach house with a 35-foot fishing boat. It wasn’t a yacht, but kinda a yacht. It was intimidating. I’d never been around that kind of money before. I worked as a waitress. I think I owned three outfits. But Tripp never made me feel inferior. During our first Christmas together he came to my hometown to visit my extended family. They’re good people, I love them. But they’re uneducated. They all live in trailers. Tripp showed up dressed as Santa. We went to the dollar store beforehand and bought a bunch of toys for all the kids. Tripp called their names one-by-one. He made everyone feel so special. Even Grandma was sitting on his lap. All the kids were looking up at him, beaming. It was the same way I looked at him. The way everyone looked at him. Like he was the greatest person in the world.” quote:(4/13) “After college Tripp and I moved to his hometown of Augusta, Georgia. It’s where The Masters golf tournament is played. There’s a lot of wealth in the city, but Tripp and I didn’t have any money. So we moved into an abandoned log cabin that belonged to his grandfather. Tripp got a job working for his parents, and I noticed he kept billing our renovations to the company. It didn’t seem right to me. But if I challenged him on it, it would lead to huge fights. He’d tell me to mind my own business. He’d call me ‘Little Ms. Christian.’ But an hour later it would be like nothing ever happened. The cabin had a huge fireplace. And Tripp was so romantic. He’d make us a steak dinner and we’d eat in front of the fire. There was something almost feminine about him. He dressed better than me. He was a better decorator, and a better dancer. It had always been his dream to have a big wedding. A courthouse would have been fine for me, but he chose the biggest Catholic church in town. I didn’t have many friends to invite. Hardly any family. My father wasn’t there to walk me down the aisle. I’d met him exactly once, when I was seventeen. He was my mom’s boss at the cotton mill. The first thing he said was: ‘You look more like me than my own daughter.’ Then I never saw him again. We seated Tripp’s guests on both sides of the aisle, so my side wouldn’t be empty. Tripp wanted the best of everything. He booked a fancy band from Atlanta. He rented a horse and carriage. He was adamant about having an open bar. He was bringing home $350 a week, so we couldn’t afford any of it. On the day before our wedding, we drove to pick up all the liquor. I think I mentioned that it was too much money. My cousin was in the car with us. And Tripp just cussed me out in front of her. He called me a bitch, and told me to shut the F up. I remember thinking: I shouldn’t marry this man. But everyone was going to be there the next day. It was too late to back out. Tripp was the main attraction at the wedding. He got up on stage and danced with the band. I laughed and cheered along with everyone else. If there’s anything my childhood prepared me for, it’s pretending that everything’s OK.” quote:(5/13) “Tripp only had half a testicle. He blamed it on an old football injury. It never bothered me, but it kept us from getting pregnant. After seven or eight attempts we decided to get a sperm donor. I could have cared less. Adoption, donor, it didn’t matter to me. But Tripp wanted to keep it a secret, even from our children. And I was respectful of that. We chose a donor who resembled Tripp, and our first son John came out looking a lot like Tripp. We ended up having four kids in five years. The children adored him. They were a little scared of him, like me. But they adored him. We’d go to the beach and he’d play in the ocean with them until the sun went down. Every Christmas Tripp was in charge of decorating our tree. He and the kids would spend hours on it, and when they finished it would look like something out of a magazine. On Halloween our family always had a theme: Batman, Batgirl, King and Queen of Arabia. That was all Tripp. He was the fun one. He was the affectionate one. He’d walk down the street and the neighborhood kids would just fall down around him. Those first few years were so good. We never had much money. Some weeks there’d be less than $100 in the account. But I couldn’t have been happier if it was ten million. I put all my energy into being a mom. We couldn’t afford childcare, so I stayed home with the kids. Their hair was always done right. Their clothes were always ironed. All the things I’d always wanted someone to do for me, I tried to do for them. I remember one night sitting on the back porch of our log cabin. The kids were playing in our blow-up pool. Tripp was building a treehouse for John, with a real deck around it. The weather was perfect. And I realized it was the happiest I’d ever been. It had always been my dream in life to have this great family. And now it was coming true. I thought: What else is there in life? These kids don’t care what I’ve been through. They don’t care about my childhood. They love me no matter what. I remember thinking: if I just put in the work, they’re gonna grow up. And they’ll be around. I’m gonna have unconditional love. I’m finally going to have a family.” quote:(6/13) “There was one time we were at our son John’s baseball game, and the umpire made a bad call. Tripp started screaming so bad that the police escorted him off the field. There was always that side of him. When his temper would flare, it would flare. But I think the abuse escalated so gradually that I didn’t even notice. It wasn’t so much physical. He was big on calling me names. And he’d get in my face. Like right in my face, and I’d think it was about to get physical. But then he’d throw something instead. Or punch a hole in the wall. Why did I stay with him? That’s the million-dollar question. He was ninety percent good, ten percent bad. And the good was so good. Tripp would lead our Bible study group every Wednesday night. He’d say all these off-the-cuff things about faith, and marriage. Everyone would be so amazed. I thought if I just kept helping him, the good would win over the bad. It’s not like I did nothing. We were going to counselors, therapists. I thought I was being a good wife, and mother. I’d grown up without a father. At least my kids had a father. And they adored their father. Whenever there was a particularly bad fight, he would sit us all down in the living room. He’d say: ‘Daddy’s really sorry that he’s mean to Mommy, but I’m going to get help. We’re going to be the best family ever.’ It seemed like he genuinely wanted to change. When we’d go to confession, I’d be in and out in two minutes. But Tripp would be in there forever. A huge line would be forming behind him. I remember thinking: ‘What did you do?’ Over the years his mood swings got worse and worse. There was one night, about ten years into our marriage, when he lost his temper and pushed me into the bathtub. I thought I broke my back. I was screaming that I couldn’t get up. Tripp ran outside on the porch and I heard a gunshot. It took me a couple minutes to crawl outside, and when I got there I found him lying face down in the yard. The gun was in the grass next to him. He said: ‘When everything comes out about what I’ve done, I’m going to kill myself.’ I said: ‘Tripp, tell me. What have you done? What?’ But he wouldn’t answer. He got up and walked back inside.” quote:(7/13) “How could I not have known? I’ve asked myself that so many times. We were married for twenty years; I knew all his friends, all his coworkers. Every day we’d eat lunch together at his office, and we’d talk about everything. He did travel a lot for work. Over the years he’d built up a huge pile of business receipts: for plane tickets, and hotels. I could never understand why he wouldn’t turn them in, so that his parents could reimburse us. We needed that money. Our credit cards were maxed out because Tripp lived above his means. Even though he brought home less than $50,000 a year, he was always paying for other people’s dinners. He bought a computer and projector for our son’s football team. But if I ever tried to challenge him on his spending, he’d fly into a rage. On the day our youngest daughter was born, he was so ugly to me in the hospital. He pushed the nursing cart across the room. He screamed: ‘Why don’t you get an F’in job?’ I tried to calm him down. I said: ‘I’m thinking about getting my real estate license.’ He laughed at me. He said: ‘Yeah, right. Sure you will.’ But that’s exactly what I did. I signed up for courses as soon as I got out of the hospital. On my first day the broker gave me a survey to fill out. There was a line where it asked me to choose a desired salary, and I chose the minimum, $20,000. It was never supposed to be a career. I just wanted to bring in a little extra money. I got my first listing while we were out of town at a soccer tournament. I remember crouching down outside of the hotel room. My hands were trembling, because Tripp was angry about something. But I closed the deal. It was a $5,000 commission. And it couldn’t have come at a better time. We were hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. We’d finally gotten a new house, but it was completely gutted. We were living in a tiny apartment in the back. One night I was dozing off, nursing the baby. Tripp was out of town on business. The kids were asleep. It was late, much too late for phone calls. And the phone rang. There was a woman’s voice on the other end. She said: ‘Venus, you don’t know me. But I’m calling to tell you what an awful man your husband is.’” quote:(8/13) “I woke up our oldest son John. I said: ‘Your dad’s been living a double life, so I’ve got to run down and meet somebody. Can you watch the baby?’ Even as I was driving there, I didn’t believe any of the things the woman had told me. I thought she was lying. I thought I was going there to confront her. To defend the father of my six kids. The hotel was at the back of a Denny’s. When I knocked on the door, a young girl answered. She was much younger than I imagined. Not a teenager, but young. She was tiny. I think she was on drugs. Her hands were fidgeting. She invited me inside the room, and we sat down on the edge of one of the queen beds. She began to tell me the exact same story that she’d told me over the phone. She said that Tripp had been sleeping with prostitutes for years. And they were blackmailing him. They’d taken all our money. He’d given them credit cards and they’d maxed them all out. The girl seemed like she might have been in love with Tripp. She told me that she didn’t charge him for sex anymore. She told me that she’d met our youngest daughter, and Tripp promised her they would start a new life together. She described this charming man, who suddenly turns into someone that is trying to kill you. And I knew then that she was telling the truth. She pulled out her phone and started showing me photos of Tripp. I can only remember one of them. He was behind the wheel of his car. He had the biggest smile on his face. And his pants were down. Right then the phone rang. She turns it to me, and it’s Tripp. ‘I told him I was meeting you,’ she said. ‘And he’s threatening to kill me.’ She asked if I could help her buy a bus ticket to Atlanta. I pulled out my checkbook and wrote her a $100 check. ‘There’s no money in this account,’ I told her. ‘But I just closed on a house. So wait a week before you cash it.’ I gave her my phone number. I told her that if she decided to get out of this life, I would help her. I felt sorry for her. Even with everything she’d told me, I wasn’t mad. I saw a wounded soul. Someone who’d grown up just like me. Someone who hadn’t escaped. I guess I hadn’t escaped either, not completely. But I was trying.” quote:(9/13) “Tripp never came home after that night. He admitted to the prostitution, but he blamed it on a sex addiction. He checked himself into a rehab facility in Mississippi. It was during this time that the full truth came out. One of my daughters came to me, and told me a story about her father. It was the worst thing it could possibly be. It wasn’t just prostitutes. It was inside the home. Of course Tripp denied everything. I hired the best polygraph technician in Atlanta. And I guess Tripp thought he was smarter than the machine, because he volunteered to take the test. Afterward the technician called me. He said: ‘You’d be an unfit mother if you let him come home.’ The police got involved, and Tripp drove himself to the station without a lawyer. He volunteered to be interviewed. And it was his own words that put him away. He didn’t confess to everything. But he confessed to enough. When they played the recording in court, I couldn’t even listen to it. I was called to testify against him. The whole time I was on the stand, Tripp kept trying to get my attention. The judge tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t stop. He kept tapping the face of his wristwatch, mouthing three words: ‘It’s. Our. Anniversary.’ I hadn’t even realized what day it was. Tripp was charged with two counts of aggravated child molestation and sentenced to 45 years in prison. On the night of his sentencing I gathered my kids around the kitchen table. I told them: ‘Your father did some very bad things. But those things had nothing to do with us. I’m scared right now. But I’m your mother, and I’m not going to let this bring us down.’ That night I laid in bed and felt like I wanted to die. We were hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. And I had six kids to feed. The next morning I woke up at 5 AM and ran 5 miles. I started doing it every morning. I’d always been a runner, but this time I felt like I was running for my life. After a week I got a call from one of my friends. She said: ‘Venus, I think you should know what everyone is saying. They see you running down Walton Way in the morning. And they say you don’t act like a woman whose husband just got put away for child molestation.’” GWBBQ has a new favorite as of 00:12 on Mar 5, 2022 |
|
#
¿
Mar 4, 2022 00:24
|
|
|
Brawnfire posted:Christ Watermelon Daiquiri posted:Jesus loving Christ
|
|
#
¿
Mar 5, 2022 00:08
|
|
|
One Eye Open posted:If you do start using a cane, look into how to use it correctly. https://i.imgur.com/7fA2Yxs.mp4
|
|
#
¿
Jul 17, 2023 04:53
|
|
|
Arsenic Lupin posted:"When do you want us to launch, Thiokol?" RC and Moon Pie posted:I didn't read enough on Thiokol's involvement with Challenger. The doc definitely made them sound worse than they really were with Challenger.
|
|
#
¿
Mar 27, 2024 22:23
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ May 15, 2024 05:30 |
|
|
MehrTentakelnBitte posted:Is there another/more dedicated thread for non-crime topics? Stuff like The Bloop, animals acting weird, other generally unexplained things? I don't have anything to contribute, but this thread never pulled up from the murders/child abuse, and the fringe science thread died in like 2019. Finally made it to the end and regretting that I did
|
|
#
¿
May 1, 2024 02:34
|
|
