....surviving affluent divorce in Georgia. Is it possible?

For twenty-three years I was married to a man who swiftly climbed the ladder at Norfolk Southern Railroad. Beginning as a self-described "glorified mechanic" working on locomotives, he moved on, having had experience working for a Caterpillar dealership, and became the manager of Norfolk Southern's railroad equipment. His place would be permanent in the Engineering Department. The move from Virginia to North Carolina to Georgia positioned him to manage the communications and signals department for the entire railroad.

Executives have much power and as vendors well know it's good to be liked and favored. We enjoyed a trip to Austria and Germany hosted by Austria's Plasser American Corporation. There, I was told the plush arrangements I was enjoying had also been enjoyed by Richard M. Nixon.

"You're eating where he ate, and sleeping where he slept," said one of the kind Austrians.

We flew on Lufthanza airlines out of New York and toured Mozart's home in Salzberg, an Austrian castle, the setting for Sound of Music, Frankfort, Munich and the railroad executive men spent a day touring Dachau, Germany's death camp while the women visited gardens. I was so surprised to find later, the week long stay wasn't listed on my passport. There were two bus loads of us in all and everything was arranged to the minute.

In other events, we went to conventions and enjoyed fishing trips compliments of vendors, and it isn't as glamorous as most people would believe. As the wife, most of the time is spent in the hotel room waiting for him to attend his affairs, or events for the wife might arranged and paid for by vendors. And many times the wife is left at home while he goes alone and attends all the fun and festivities.

There were golf outings and particularly at the Greenbrier, the ladies had a choice of niceties to enjoy. The new position as Assistant Vice President, Communications department brought a new boss, and new vendors, and we enjoyed gambling trips and even a trip to Nashville's Grand Ole Opry hosted by Okonite and Harmon Industries. There was another man who worked alongside the two named Mr. Higgenbottem. The new railroad boss was the most powerful NS man in Atlanta, VP Engineering, Phil Ogden. My husband couldn't understand how Mr. Ogden kept his home there while all other V.P's. were in Norfolk, Virginia, and he couldn't understand why his predecessor in the communications department had made so much money to own a million dollar mansion at Lake Lanier. He said the job just didn't pay that much, and I said, "Maybe he inherited the money!" At first he couldn't understand the "secret code language" used by communications workers working for him, but soon caught on to the language and new job.

When he moved in to his mistress's home abandoning our daughter alone in the house in 1999, it was before our Georgia divorce was final. His mistress had been a railroad computer consultant worker when they met, and also worked for the state of Georgia in computers, Human Resources. I was still trying to stay alive and survive the prolonged ordeal of legal finalization and settlement, living in daily fear as to what they might have planned for me next, and have been told mine was "one of those rigged Georgia divorces."

But one of the first things his mistress and new wife did, I was told, was keep him from the golf course. Business of all kinds is conducted on golf courses all over this country and if a person wants success at executive or political levels, golf is the game to play.

It was 1998 and my divorce from the railroad executive that was the beginning of this personal, interstate horror story of crime and corruption. In Georgia, I was arrested, falsely accused, and advised by a magistrate to sign my divorce papers so all of my arrest, police problems would go away.
Judge Laurens Lee of Peach County, Georgia said it as I was being handcuffed in Georgia. Within a 39 day period I found myself in three Georgia jails, sent to a state mental facility against my will, while advised my son was dead in a brutal, bloody death in Alabama. I never identified his body nor did I attend any services because of the arrests and legality.

Both my husband's fraternity brother, co-executive, and his boss were staged to testify against me in the "harassing" phone call charges. Norfolk Southern's V.P. of Coal Sales, John W. "Bill" Fox had been my husband's best friend and fraternity brother from college. Phil Ogden, my husband's boss, and N.S. Vice President of Engineering was also going to testify, I was told. When I received that information I knew I would have to request a jury trial to have any chance of fairness in the trial, and I also told Bill, whom I'd considered a friend, that if there was to be a trial I planned to tell EVERYTHING I knew about everything.

I didn't get my day in court, as similarly the Houston County "felony" charges had also so mysteriously disappeared, I'd find the only place I'd be able to tell my story and have any hopes of justice would be in the future via internet, in the safety of my Mother's home.

Surprisingly at the time, the Cobb County court decided to dismiss the false charges against me. But the damage had been done by all of their schemes in Georgia because after these kinds of horrifying experiences, lies, shocking situations, and false accusations, a person never fully recovers.

Not long before the horrors had begun one of my distant cousins, Bob Kirby, had made contact with me and began telling me how some of the railroaders were kinfolks and about W. Graham Claytor's family, and the sinking of the USS Indianapolis. He also said he'd recently been to a stock holder's meeting and stood up and asked how the railroad was getting away with illegal dumping in Maryland. Then later he told the chief of Operations, Steve Tobias, that I (his cousin) was getting a divorce from one of their executives. Bob told me later he had done these things, and I told him I couldn't understand why he did it. Because apparently Mr. Tobias went straight to my husband and confronted him about it and there was trouble.

Looking back I'm not surprised they dismissed all the false charges against me. They couldn't have won for all they'd plotted and planned, and they knew it. But at the time their tactics to intimidate and frighten me were very powerful and effective. I had been a housewife most of my life and wasn't aware of how big boys play legal games. I had lived in a very protected environment, unaware of the cruelty and evil existing in the real world even among "respectable" people. My husband had all the connections and cards to play games, ––and the money, too.

Six years later, 2004 after enduring refusals to send public records or my son's "suicide" and stonewalling from Detective Hoss Mack and Corporal John Garner of the Baldwin County Sheriff's office, I was sent records, and this picture of my son's leg, was sent by Sheriff Jimmy Johnson. I'm told it is not the picture of a dead person, and that dead bodies are never placed on sheets. And later forensics reports details showed the body they examined was not that of my son as my son had no scars on his legs whatsoever.

From the railroad's Brosnan Forest, my husband had phoned and said he'd be home to "celebrate my birthday on Friday," October 16, 1998. Instead police came to my door and ordered me out of the house, and it was planned exactly at the time my husband would normally arrive home from work. Amazing timing arrangement with the police, I thought. A few weeks before this had all happened my husband was nervously in the basement of our home, typing on our son's computer saying he was accessing the railroad's computers. He had a sheet of paper in front of him and was following instructions. The paper was hand-written by him. It was odd because he never brought work home, and I didn't think he would have used our son's computer for railroad business.

During our separation he'd moved in with his mistress, a computer expert, started a consulting business with her, and left our daughter to live alone and finish high school in the house. Not long after our divorce was final he married his mistress, flew to Hawaii, took a trip to Switzerland, and bought a Grady White boat that he stored at West Palm Beach. It was amazing what he was capable of doing on a salary of $125,000.00 per year. But then I thought back to his predecessor, the former A.V.P. of Communications and Signals, who had the $ million home at Lake Lanier.

Was it drugs? I had told my sons if I ever caught them involved in drug trafficking I would notify the state police myself. Ten years later my eldest son confided my husband had said he'd seen more cocaine than my son could ever imagine.

The false arrests and accompanying emotional trauma, expenses, and laws of Georgia prevented my presence at my son's funeral services. It is a horror story every Mother in this country should know about, and be sure her daughter cannot fall victim to these kinds of activities among the powerful and affluent who run states, businesses, write laws, run governments and organizations.

Pleas for help from public figures, senators, attorneys general, congressmen, proved fruitless except Senator Paul Coverdell tried to help and a year later he was dead. Years and years of struggle, and horrors brought a recent comment from an Atlanta attorney, Kenneth Schatten, initially involved in the situation,

"You know your son might be somewhere and they've told him if he tries to contact you, they'll kill you and your remaining children."

I told the lawyer,

"Then if that's what every veteran has fought every war for, then let them kill me and my remaining children. This country isn't fit for honest people to live."

They're not telling the truth, and there are people in Georgia and elsewhere who know exactly what happened.

Within this blog you will find incidences of public corruption intertwined with pictures, plots and planning of criminal organizations and their legal affiliates, tactics, and activities. Because these tribulations have been ongoing for twelve years, the story is in parts and pieces and as blogs allow, is not in chronological order.

The next post will address the land contract, extortion, and squatter's rights activities and exhibit what I've endured after fleeing Georgia, and the legal tactics used to arrange losses for myself as an innocent, and baited purchaser. Every American should know about criminal legal tactics, including those used in land and home purchases.

American laws are weak in protecting victims of financial and white collar crimes. In many instances lawyers and bar associations will not challenge nor discipline lawyers who may be corrupt. As my problems were interstate, including four states, I found a victim cannot financially afford to hire multiple lawyers in multiple states, nor be guaranteed the quality of the attorney hired from a distance. This detail gives high dollar criminals greater opportunities to succeed in crime. Worse, a poor person victimized or having suffered losses to home or family has no chance at all for any form of justice.

It's why the federal government must provide a blanket to help victims address, expose, and recover from corruption and criminal organizations.

The most baffling of all is in understanding how a person, whether male or female could so effectively plot and plan the destruction of his or her child's parent. Only the lowest of human beings could do these things to another human being and to the parent of his/her own children. And so often these low-life human beings have crafty lawyers to help them do it. That the laws are written to allow it shows a need for a major legal overhaul, particularly with regard to families and children.