Happy 2026!
It is our 30th anniversary here at Space Dock 13!
On the web since 1996!
You have encountered an extremely old website that continues to exist in old web ways, the same way it has done for now three decades.
In spite of being now 30 years old this year, started in 1996, it is still heavily active and old pages updated daily, new pages added daily, still now in 2026. All hand written, all hand coded (no AI), all by me, same as it ever was.
We Still Exist: The Old Web Did Not Go Away, You Just Forgot How To Find Us
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This site was NOT designed for mobile devices (as they had not been invented yet when I created it) thus this site looks best on a computer, at 1280x768 or above. |
This is a very old website created in 1996, so, yes, javascript is needed for the site to work as it should. If things don't function, you may need to update javascript drivers on your device |
This site tries to be mobile friendly but it's been online since 1996, so old pages may not load right on mobile devices, and as this site has had pages added near daily for 30 years there are now over 20k pages here. |
Having started out in life as a GeoCities site, this site contains glitter, bright colours, blinkies, moving gifs, and other things the old web was known for. |
As has been requested (endlessly) EK's Star Log is returning to the internet. You can still read the original archive here... https://eelkat.wordpress.com
The reason you couldn't find it is because I set it to private un-index mode, meaning it no longer shows up in Google search results and can only be accessed by a direct link.
Meaning, if you didn't have the url for it, no amount of searching for it would tell you how to find it. Anyone who had the url could still access it though.
I had set it to private September 23, 2013, intending to move each page here to EelKat.com... however, November 14, 2013, after only moving about 30 pages, I was beaten up and left paralyzed for 5 months, then spent 18 months relearning to walk. I am still crippled and have limited mobility.
Below is one of the blog posts that originally appeared on EK's Star Log. The original articles are still online but no longer indexed in Google. Links to the original article, are included with this post, as is the original posting date. Clicking the links will take you to the original site, where you can see the old Space Dock 13 website still online. Space Dock 13 as it looked when hosted on WordPress from 2003 to 2013.
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If you want some stories to get you started in The Pink Necromancer series, reading these first will give you a good introduction to the 3 main characters:
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My Elves Are JellyFish...and I asked Google AI and ChatGPT 5.6 what they thought of this.
As requested, my daily writing prompt series is now available print paperback editions on Amazon.
There are 20 volumes of this writing prompt series currently planned and in varying stages of finishing, hopefully all 20 will be published by the end of 2026. I likely will do a 2nd series of writing prompt books in 2027.
The first of the Visual Novels/Video Games for The Adventures of Quaraun the Inane/The Pink Necromancer series is published and available on Itch.io, there are 3 more planned for release in 2026, 6 more planned for release in 2027, and the big 60-hour 80k word 150 page one (Quaraun Goes To the Fair) is planned for a 2028 release.
There is a Pink Necromancer card game and a Pink Necromancer board game, as well as a Pink Necromancer table top RPG supliment for Dungeons and Dragons, all in the works, and to be released over the next couple of years as well.
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Update Sept 3, 2026:
I am able to get around enough to take Koko to dog park... today is 29 days since getting out of hospital. My diet is still mostly liquid, but im eating some solid food again, but its like rice or soft mushy baby food type stuff because I still can not chew yet, though I can swallow again. My jaw is still not functioning good so im having trouble talking still. So there's been slight improvement to my mouth, throat, and jaw, but, zero improvement to my eye, which is a major concern, be Im almost fully blind right now. im legally blind since birth in my left eye, so I have no ability to fall back on using my left eye. My right eye is the one injured and my vision in it is "40% decreased" according to my doctor, but it wasn't good vision to begin with, and right now my right eye is not much different from my legally blind left eye. Which I why I have to have someone drive my car for me instead of me driving my car myself right now, which is very frustrating, because, being a female, I had to fight for over twenty years to be allowed to drive. I started sneaking out at age 31 and dressing as a man to go to Old Orchard Beach high school to get a ged, because us females are not allowed to go to school. And i was 37 years old when snuck out to the DMV and got a driver's permit and started going to college. I was 42 and 8 months pregnant when my family found out I was going to college and thats when I was punished by the backhoe driving over my house and my spine broken with a golf club and my baby born right then and killed with same golf club. So it's very frustrating now, so soon after finally being able to drive , to now not be able to drive because of an eye injury, especially after 14 years of being paralyzed from the golf club and not being allowed to have a wheelchair, again, because i am female and we females are simply not allowed to do anything. I hate the culture I was born into. I wish I had the freedom to go to school and drive a car the way American women do. I wish having my spine broken with a golf club and my baby killed with a golf club and a backhoe driven over my house was not how men in my family punishment women in my family for learning to read and write. Its so frustrating not being able to to drive again, so soon after 14 years being paralyzed, and being paralyzed by the golf club was the punishment for getting a driver's license back in 2013 after 30 years of men not letting me have one. I hate my family's culture and how they treat us women.
I get so sick of Americans telling me how they wish they could be a Gypsy… they are either misogynist woman hating pigs, or delusional idiots who haven't got a clue how shittily we Gypsy women are treated by Gypsy men, because no one in their righ mind who knows anything about Gypsy culture would ever want to be part of it. I hate that I was born a Gypsy.
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update sept 7, 2026
"You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me?
I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking.
So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me.
see video below for more information:
@eelkat "You would not make a good teacher"... what does that mean, and why are there so many people on Railroad Ave and Western Ave and Cutts St why walk up to me and say that to me? I find it very confusing. I have low functioning Autism (the Rain Man type) and so i have very little understanding of words beyond the basic ones, and i never went to to school, so I never learned maths or sciences, and I only had remedial classes at Southern Maine Community College, because I did not have an education to enroll with regular, I was there taking every reading and writing class they had to learn how to read and write, and also took speaking classes to learn how to talk (i spoke Shetland Scottish language because that was language my grandmother spoke but she died when I was 8 so I only knew that language to speak and write, and I was 37 when I went to college and 42 when I learned English speaking and I still cant speak English good yet), all the other classes I took were art painting and cooking. So the phrase "You would not make a good teacher" makes no sense to me because it seems to imply that I am trying to be a teacher, but I don't have anything close to the education ti be a teacher, and im not trying to be a teacher. So I don't know why people keep saying this phrase to me and I assume it must have some sort of a slang meaning, but I can't figure out what it could be of why do these people keep saying it to me. #mainelife #biddefordmaine #maine #disabilitytiktok #Biddeford ♬ original sound Wendy C Allen | 📚 Author
update Sept 15, 2026:
I have some slight movement in some my fingers again again after over a decade being paralyzed
you remember how I used to be a professional doll making, pattern designer, and embroiderer, back before I became paralized and before my son was murdered and being the backhoe drove over my house?
all my equipment, sewing machines, ect were all destroyed by the backhoe driving over my house, and I have been quardepelegic for over a decade because of it so could not use my hands to sew or draw or embroider, and so only continued to do my writing of novels since then because I could do that with dragon dictation software,
well, since 2016, I been playing Witcher 3 and don't starve video games on twitch livestream, one hand two fingers, as part of my therapy to regain nerve and muscle use of my fingers, and now after 10 years of that, I have somewhat more movement in my fingers and im thinking maybe I can try to do embroidery and doll making again, but not sure, anyways, now im rebuying all of my sewing and embroidery equipment that the backhoe destroyed when it drove over my house, and hopefully I can use my hand enough to embroider again.
waiting for stuff to arrive in mail, so soon I should find out if ten years of twitch gaming has given me enough muscle strength to use my fingers to embroider again.
update to the previous video, answering viewer question about lack of hospital vs broken spine
Wheelchair Fundraiser... I need to upgrade to a power wheelchair, the manual one just isn't enough anymore. But the power wheelchair is $25k. Yes, twenty five thousand dollars. Wtf? I can get a car for a quarter that price, why are wheelchairs so damned expensive? That's more money then I make in five years, so I need to start a fundraiser for it.
Posted on Tuesday, January 5, 2010 | Comments Off
I think I have found an answer to the vandalism, arsine, drive by shootings, witchcraft accusations, and other lesser forms of harassment that have happened at the hands of local church members these past 9 years:
***People often grudge others what they cannot enjoy themselves. -Aesop ***
In other words, my lifestyle is something they want and can not have, thus in their frustration they try to take it from me, and yet, in everything they have done, they have not, nor can not succeed.
Why?
Because I unlike them live my life. I do the things I want to do, when I want to do them, how I want to do them. I am not controlled by a job or a church.
I think they feel trapped by their jobs, and trapped by their church. If they want to drop every thing and spend 10 hours on the beach, they do not have the freedom to do so, like I do.
If they want to wear 15th century ball gowns or fairy princess costumes to run to the grocery store, they can not do so, because they fear ridicule by their peers.
They have huge debts: house, cars, credit cards, bills for frivolous things. I pay cash up front for everything. I never had a credit card. I own no man any thing.
When they burned down my house, the last thing they expected was for me to take to living under a tarp and continue on doing things no different than before.
The lost of a house would have devastated them, thus they thought it would me. But their fault was thinking that I care about material possessions – like they do.
I live what one woman once called: “the life of a wild and free feral child”, which she than added: “I wish I had your freedom”.
And that is what is boils down to: I have the freedom to do absolutely anything that pops into my head, something they do not have, something they want, but fear to pursue, because they are too blinded by the risks of my lifestyle to see the benefits of it.
Because they can not have the freedom I have, they made (and continue to make) many attempts to take that from me. And yet they continue to fail.
Why?
I will tell you why. I live my life to the letter, by Jesus’ words: To be the lily of the field. Not familiar with it? Look it up. Want to see a modern day translation of that?
Watch the movie: You Can’t Take It With You.
If you have ever read Jesus’ words or watched the movie: “You Can’t Take It With You”, than you will know what I mean when I say this:
I am a lily.
We need more beauty in the world and less hate.
MORNING VERSE, GRADES ONE THROUGH FOUR
The sun with loving light
Makes bright for me each day,
The soul with spirit power
Gives strength unto my limbs.
In sunlight shining clear
I reverence, O God ,
The strength of humankind
Which Thou so graciously
Hast planted in my soul
That I, with all my might,
May strive to work and learn.
From Thee flow light and strength,
To Thee rise love and thanks.
- by Rudolf Steiner
I'm now editing my two NaNoWriMo 2009 manuscripts:
Waiting for Emmett to come.


http://twitter.com/EelKat
http://www.facebook.com/EelKat
http://eknano.blogspot.com
https://eelkat.wordpress.com
http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/user/132659
http://www.scriptfrenzy.org/user/132659
Comments Offon I think I have found the answer to why local church members and leaders call me a witch and set fire to my home.
Posted in About me, arsine, attitude, Belief Systems, Biddeford, church corruption, EelKat, evil men, excommunication, harassment, I am a lily, jimmy stewart, LDS, Maine, ocean, ocean life, Old Orchard, Old Orchard Beach, On the Beach, oob, point of view, police corruption, poverty, Power of Positive Thinking, random thoughts, random werirdness, real life, religion, religious leaders, religon, social change, Solitary Witch, stolen, stolen items, stress, stroke, stupid people, survival, tent, tent cover, terrorists, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the communist town of Old Orchard Beach, Theology, theology beliefs, thieves, threats, town manager, Town of Old Orchard, vandalism, Violence, Wendy C. Allen, witchcraft, witches
RE to IM on FaceBook – more detailed info about what started the witch accusations and harassment
Posted on Wednesday, December 23, 2009 | Comments Off
(ADDED NOTE: I’m a third generation LDS/Saint/Mormon; this answer went to a “new” fellow member who was asking what happened to inspire my previous post, this was my answer; this conversation was with Joel Bailey, weeks before the FBI arrested him for having hacked the Old Orchard Beach town hall's bank accounts and helping Jim Thomas, Dan Keening, and Kathy Smith steal $3million in tax funds. Joel Bailey went to prison a few months after this conversation.)
I got 3 windows each with 50 tabs open, and speakers on my computer zoned out a while back, so I don’t get the “beep” from FB anymore and even though FB still says I’m online, but I already moved to a different site. It’s sort of hard to keep track of me online, I zip back and forth so much. I was on Zazzle, not FB, so I didn’t see the messages til just now. Sorry.
Nope, didn’t know about the AS group. I’m still sort of new to getting out of the house, it’s kind of hard to get used to doing. I pretty much only ever leave to go to the writer’s meetings (NaNoWriMo and Screnzy) and to buy cat food and grain.
The guy that was yelling at me is from the Sanford ward. (It was yesterday - I attend Sanford Ward Church not Saco Ward Church, remember?). He’s the same one that was accusing me of writing “defamatory” letters to tons of people in the Sanford Ward, though he’s yet to be able to prove that any of those letters actually exist.
So I don’t know if there really are letters I supposedly wrote or if that’s just some rumor. He’s sort of weird. I’m used to him showing up every once in a while. Bishop LR got after him about it a while back, and he stopped, but Sanford just changed bishops, so, I don’t know, I guess he thinks he can try it again.
Anyways my mom emails him, (I guess she emails every body, because I’ve had to change my email 34 times as a result of her emailing people who than email me in a rage over whatever it is she has said at that moment.) and that’s usually what sets him off.
My mom showed up at the yard today, with the same accusations – witchcraft, proof being my lack of shoes. I don’t where she comes up with this from, but I guess seeing how she’s saying the same stuff the next day, that she’s the one who got him saying it. (He’s got mental problems and tends to repeat whatever he hears some one else say, so I’m not too worried about him, because I know he’s just parroting some thing he heard some one else say. It’s the person he’s repeating that bothers me.)
But yeah, seeing how my mom showed up with the exact same accusation, I guess she’s the one who said it to him to begin with. After he accused me of the letters in Sanford, my mom showed up a few hours later that same day accusing me of letters in Saco, so I’m not sure what to think there. I’d still like to see one of these letters, because last time letters like that showed up, well, the only time letters like that showed up, and I actually saw one, it turned out that it was written by one of my mom’s brothers, Richard Merlin Atwater, and not me, like every one thought.
It’s the only time a letter ever actually came forward though, so I don’t believe the poison pen letter accusations half the time, because it’s so rare that they can ever provide proof that the letters they accuse me of writing, are even real at all.
I guess, it’s always my mom that gets people all wound up, at least from what I’m finding out these past few months. I know from what Bishop Dan Kenning said that it was my mom complaining to him, because he was quoting stuff, word for word the way my mom says them – demon possession, spell casting, curses, me being a witch.
I’m just so sick of it.
It hurts when people call me a witch or say I’m demon possessed, but than I’ve got Autism so they think I don’t have any feelings to hurt.
I just never can understand how folks can believe her. The whole believing that demons and witches are real, is just something I can’t get my mind around.
It’s so illogical.
I can not understand how my mom or her brothers (Merlin and Mervin and David) or Bishop Morgan (now in a mental health institute, because he sees demons in everyone, not just in me) or Bishop Kenning can believe in those things.
Of course, I don’t understand how come every time a new Bishop or Stake Pres comes in, I have to be retried all over again.
Double Jeopardy is illegal in the USA.
The first time I got called in for “apostasy”, “witch craft”, “demon possession” and consideration for excommunication was when I was just 12 years old.
That was Bishop Regan and Stake Pres S. Bishop Regan is the one who got released after having a mental breakdown. Stake Pres. S said there was no ground to excommunicate me than, because I was neither witch nor demon possessed nor apostate.
Than Bishop Richards called me in about 2 years later, said complaints of demon possession and witchcraft had been made again, but that he was no going to do anything about it, because he did not believe the complaint.
Bishop Morgan replaced him, and at the same time Stake Pres Earnshaw took over for S and it stated all over again. That time Bishop M brought in doctors from Pine Land Center, he claimed I was not only a demon possessed witch, but that I was schizophrenic as well. He tried several times to have me excommunicated between the ages of 14 through 17, each time he didn’t get any where with it.
Bishop Bryant (the older) wanted to have all 264 of us (me and my relatives) excommunicated and is the one who told me “white trash like you and the rest of the Atwater clan don’t belong in this church”. That happened 13 years ago and was why I stopped going to the Cape Elizabeth Ward.
Cape E Ward broke off and became the Portland and Saco Wards instead, but by that time I had started going to the Sanford Ward because Ben is high priest quorum leader there and I go to church with him.
That was when the vandalism started in. At first it was just rock throwing and stuff, but than the dead animals and photos of guns started showing up.
In 2003 the drive by paint ball shootings started. They messed up my horse really bad, tore out half of her face and cut out both her eyes. It got so bad that the Old Orchard Beach police stationed a motorcycle cop to patrol Portland Ave. That’s when I stopped going to the Sanford Ward, because the police offices said they had evidence that it was people from church behind the vandalism. They had a list of suspects, all of them were from one of 5 different churches – 3 of the churches being the Saco, Portland, and Sanford LDS Wards.
That’s when the reporters and paparazzi got involved, one of the officers contacted the state police and one of them called ABC News. We had reporters and photographers all over our land for about 3 months. That’s when my agoraphobia set it. Between the vandals killing my pets and the paint ballers and the reporters asking me questions and the police constantly warning us about who to avoid – I just freaked out big time. I couldn’t handle it.
Between 2001 and 2004 we had court dates on an almost weekly basis because of the stolen house that got cut in half and moved to Lake Arrowhead. I went to the early ones, but as the reporters and such got more involved, I stopped going to them. The later court dates from 2003 – 2005 I did not attend, except for one in summer of 2005, when I had a total meltdown in the court and the judge sent me to a psychiatrist. That’s when I found out I had Autism.
After the court stuff ended, my mom got something like $20K in the settlement, that’s when the vandalism went out of hand and our house got burned down.
Next thing we know, DHS is at the tent and telling us about an FBI investigation into Old Orchard Beach town manager Jim Thomas, and that there were about 40 families on Portland Ave and Walnut Str that were involved, most every one of them had lost their homes, nearly all of them had been driven out of town, they couldn’t handle the stress.
It was DHS that told us about Thomas and the other folks from the Saco Ward being investigated because some $3million had been embezzled out of town funds.
That’s how I found out that the town manager and the town council were all members of the Saco Ward. Old Orchard Beach had to get rid of every one working in the town hall, and I had to deal with gov workers asking me questions left and right, only I didn’t know anything about all that stuff so finally they stopped coming over. I never did understand all that stuff with the DHS and the FBI and the town manager.
No one ever gave us much information, they just wanted to know what we knew about it. In any case, finding that stuff out, freaked me out even more, because the guy they were investigating was a high priest in the Saco ward and the Old Orchard Beach town manager. They had records of how he’d been run out of 4 states already and he was constantly going from state to state to evade them.
Finding that out, just scared the hell out of me and after that, I just stopped trusting every one.
I mean, you think you can trust a high priest right?
You think you can trust your town manager right?
Here he was both!
But than the police and DHS tell us that these people we thought we could trust were the ones behind all the violence and death, and it just shatters your ability to trust any one after that. Now I don’t know who I can trust any more. But than, when all this was going on, normally I would have turned to the church for help, but I don’t any more because every time I do, the members and leaders start calling me a witch and telling me I’ve no right to be in church.
I still don’t understand why people call me a witch.
I know several complaints happen because of the whole colour thing. I see these glowing colours around people, which I thought every one saw. I didn’t realize until my late teens that other folks did not see them, or that it freaked people out when I talked about seeing them.
But the whole me being a witch and casting spells and curses comes from that, because there were several times when I told people *that person* is about to die, and than within a few hours to a few days they did.
People freaked out and said I made those people die, but what happened was, your colour leaves and dissapears before your die, and if I see someone with no colour, I know they’ll die soon.
I was only 5 or 6 years old when I used to say those things, so the accusations of witchcraft and curses started early.
That’s how the rumor got started at least.
But that’s Autism, not witchcraft, so I don’t see how they can use that to call me a witch.
Than of course my encounter with whatever it is that Etiole is, is what started the accusations of me being demon possessed. I may not know what it is that Etiole is, but I do know what he is not, and he most certainly is not a demon.
I assume you must know about Etiole, since it seems like every one does, but if not, I wrote all about him here: http://www.squidoo.com/amphibious-aliens so many folks kept asking me for more info about him, that I finally just wrote it down and now instead of reanswering everyone I just direct them to that link. It’s easier.
And, again, though not many folks have ever seen Etiole, a few have, and they were not witches any more than I am, so I don’t see how my contact with him could make me a witch or demon possessed. Ben’s thoughts on the matter are that people who call Etiole a demon are silly, because (according to Ben) Etiole is an alien, some sort of Gray Hybrid or some such thing.
(When Ben is not being a high priest, he spends his time being a ufologist.)
I’m not sure what to think of Ben’s whole alien/alien abduction theory, but at least it makes more logical sense than the demon possession theory my mom’s always preaching. Personally, I’ve always thought of Etiole as a Faerie, which I say to mean a natural all be it rare, cryptiod creature, not some supernatural being or an extraterrestrial.
My mom’s constant accusations that first my Dodge and now my Volvo, are possessed by demons, baffles me. I have no explanation for her reasoning, other than I guess she is suggesting that Etiole somehow possesses them. I don’t know. I think the accusation that my cars have demons is the least logical and most confusing of any of the accusations to date.
A few years ago, in about 2005, I decided to look into this whole witch thing, to try to find out why folks kept saying I was a witch, but after talking to several wiccan-witches, they all told me the same thing – that there was no way in hell I was a witch because I was so much of a “super Christian Jesus freak”.
Last spring some folks online said they thought I was more of an old fashioned Christian, the type like followed Jesus when he was still alive, and that today they are called ChristoPagans, which are neither witches nor what modern tradition calls Christian. I don’t know. I can’t figure any of it out. Christian call me a witch and witches call me a Jesus Freak, neither accept me as an equal.
But still, after looking into the whole witch/wicca thing, I still can’t figure out why folks keep calling me a witch, and neither could any of the witches I talked to. They said the witch accusation was most likely based on my mode of dress. They thought it was most likely that folks look at my clothes and assume I’m a witch because of the things I wear.
But I don’t understand that either. You see, my grandmother was an Indian. She was a Kickapoo and lived much of her life in Hawaii. Because of her culture she wore muu-muu and kimono and long robes and stuff. She didn’t want her culture to die, like most native cultures had, but she couldn’t remember most of her native heritage, but her clothe connected her to her ancestors, it was the only part of her culture she had ever been taught (she was an orphan, in a time when Indians were still “red skin savages” so a lot of her culture history was lost.).
As an adult she traveled around the world looking for information about her family history. That’s why she spent a lot of time in Hawiaii and Japan. I spent most of my childhood with her, because my mom was always in the hospital, and so, I grew up wearing muu-muus and kimono and robes and stuff, because that’s the way our native culture dressed.
When she died in 1994, I inherited everything, including her collection of antique Hawaiian muu-muus and Japanese Kimono, which is what I have worn ever since I inherited them.
The way I dress has nothing to do with religion and everything to do with my Native American culture, so I don’t understand why people look at the way I dress and call me a witch because of my cloths.
So, I mean, I can see where they are basing the witch accusations from (the Autism, Etiole, and my clothes), but I just can’t understand how they can actually believe such nonsense as to think I am a witch, because none of those things makes me a witch on their own, and even all three together can’t classify me as a witch either.
Bishop Dan Kennings did a lot of complaining about my cloths the day he called me to his office. I tried to explain about my grandmother, but my ability to speak coherently is not good. I’ve always had trouble making words come out of my mouth properly and that’s why I write things down instead.
He kept saying I was a witch and putting spells on church members, and than he’d comment about my cloths.
The witch accusation upset me. I’ve gone through this every time a new bishop comes in. I don’t know who it is that runs to every bishop complaining about me and calling me a witch, but this has happened with 16 bishops and 3 stake presidents now. They always mention my mom or my uncle Dickie (Richard Merlin Atwater) so I assume it's them who are behind it.
Every time I get told I’m a demon possessed witch casting spells and curses. Every time it’s eventually found out the accusations are false. Every time the monthly, sometimes weekly meetings with the bishop and stake pres drag on for 6 or 7 months.
Double Jeopardy is illegal in the USA.
You can’t retry some one for a crime they were already tried for and proven innocent.
And yet, here we go again, with bishop number 16 and stake pres number 3.
That’s double jeopardy 16 times!
Why?
I’ve already been dragged before 15 different counsels, each time with the same accusation of apostasy and witchcraft and excommunication threats.
Sixteen times since I was 12 years old!
Each time has 6 or 7 meetings.
WHY?
Why do I have to go through this every time a new bishop or a new stake pres comes into the ward?
Do you have any idea how stressful this is?
And people keep asking me why I don’t come back to church?
Why should I?
What incentive is there for me to attend meetings at church, when I won’t get the chance to attend half of meetings because I’m too busy being called into the bishop’s office where I get accused of being a witch?
Most of the meetings took place on Sunday, they’s take me right out of Primary or Young Woman’s classes. I missed more than half of my Sunday meetings because I had to sit in the bishop’s office every Sunday being told I was some evil apostate witch.
How can they expect me to want to go to church when I’m not allowed to attend the meetings when I do come in?
I used to go to whatever ward Ben was attending, but I’ve been with him since I was 12, (he’s 30 years older than me) which in the Cape Elez Ward no one cared much about that, a few folks complained, but not many and no one did anything about it.
In the Sanford Ward though, one of the members was a DHS social worker, and some how she found out about how old I was when I started going out with Ben, and even though I was 27 by the time she found out about it, she raised hell for him, she wanted him to be put in prison and tried to get me to press charges against him, she really went overboard about it and he got into a lot of trouble and he almost got excommunicated over it, and now he’s terrified to be seen in church with me.
I don’t know why she flipped out like that, because I was 27 years old at the time, yeah I was 12, but well, if she had ever read the church handbook, the church puts 12 years old as the legal marriage age, so, whatever. Anyways, Ben is just terrified out of his mind over the whole ordeal and that’s why he called off the wedding a few weeks before the wedding date.
(He has huge phobia problems, and the DHS threats made them worse.)
A lot of folks in the Sanford Ward threatened to never speak to him again if we got married, so now he hides the fact that we are together. We were supposed to get married in the temple, but they would not allow it. They took Ben’s temple recommend away and said I was not allowed to have on on grounds of “mental incompetency”.
Some folks called me a “grave digger” and others called me a “gold digger” and others said I was with Ben because I wanted to be “a lovely young widow”.
Uhm . . . at the time Ben had A LOT of money. His dad is one of the wealthiest men in Kennebunk Port. I did not know all of that at the time though, because I had never meet Ben’s dad and Ben had never once in those first 15 years ever mentioned his job or money. I had no idea he had all that money, not until folks in the Sanford Ward started saying those things to me. Their words hurt me more than anything else ever could.
Of course, since than, Ben has lost all that money, and well, I proved them wrong because all these years later, I’m still with him.
But that’s why I stopped going to the Sanford Ward. The whole freak out over the 30 year age difference was a really big issue for people there, though I still don’t understand why.
That happened 7 years ago and I had hoped that they had calmed down some about our huge age difference.
I went back to Sanford once this last summer, and well, let’s just say I was most diffenatly not welcomed there.
I was there all of 10 minutes before Ben had to rush me out of the building and we left.
Ben didn’t dare go back to church for a few weeks after that, so I haven’t tried going back to Sanford since.
It’s really upsetting that people can hate me like that, just because I’m 30 years younger than Ben.
It’s the one thing of all of everything, that has bothered me more than anything else. I want so desperately to attend church with Ben again, but I’m not allowed to, people just go nuts when they see us together. That upsets me more than the witch accusations from the Cape Elizabeth and Saco Wards do.
So, I just don’t go to church at all any more, as you can see, for a lot of reasons. The witch and demon accusations I could ignore. I sort of grew up with them, and while they hurt my feelings and stress me out, I’ve sort of gotten used to them. I try to ignore them. It’s the accusations involving me and Ben and our age difference, that upsets me most of all.
I find it very hard to ignore these, because they effect our relationship. They stress Ben and, he just does not deal with stress well at all. He freaks out and goes into hiding and doesn’t dare to contact anyone, not even me – uhm, yeah, he has all sorts of alien abduction fears and stuff, and rambles on ufo stuff all the time, and whenever any one freaks him out, he just goes super paranoid, and the whole deal with folks freaking out over our age difference sort of freaked him out worse than most other stuff does, and seeing him get all upset over it, made me even more upset than I already was over it.
So all in all, that hurts my feelings and upsets me more than the witch accusations do.
And, well, if they are not going to let me attend church with Ben anymore, and over such a stupid reason just because he’s 30 years older than me, than really, I’ve lost all desire to go to church at all now, because I have a hard time seeing how Jesus would think well of a church that breaks up families, the way folks there are trying to break up me and Ben.
Me an Ben have been together for 22 years. We meet in church. Church was such a big thing for us. We attending every meeting – the morning meetings the evening meetings (the church stopped doing the double meetings in the mid 1980’s) and all the week day meetings. We used to come do the landscaping, and cleaning the building, and repairing the roof, and decorating for youth dances, etc. For years we spent an average of 12 to 15 hours a week in church. That was in Cape Elizabeth, before they consolidated the Cape Elizabeth and Portland Wards.
The Cape Elizabeth Ward does not exist any more, it got folded into the Portland Ward in about 1995-ish, the same time the Cornish Ward broke off of it. Most of the folks I knew ended up in the Cornish Ward. Than Saco Broke off of Portland a few years later. I don’t know any body in the Portland and Saco Wards today, it’s all new folks now. And that’s what really gets me – I mean, how do people there even know who I am? I asked Johnny that, and he said it’s because me mom is constantly talking about me.
According to Johnny, my mom is “obsessed with you” he said. He added “you should hear her at Wayne’s house, she talks about you all day long”.
I asked Ben, if he knew anything about that, because, I rarely ever see my mom – like months and months and months go by, between seeing her.
Ben told me that she emails him almost daily, and than he forwarded her emails to me – I was stunned!
Every one of them was her talking about me and how “evil” I was.
She used the words “evil” and “nasty” over and over again to describe me and spent a lot of time talking about my Twighlight Manor books.
I found that fact interesting, considering she has yet to read one of my Twighlight Manor books and half the stuff she said I had written in them was not true. Oh well.
I’ve since found out that she has been emailing copies of these same emails to several of my uncles and, some one named “Corbet”, Johnny said that that is some woman from church. Don’t know, never heard of her, so I don’t know why my mom would be saying all that stuff to her.
(I found out, because when Ben forwarded the emails to me, all the email addresses my mom had sent the email too was in the box).
I don’t know. I just don’t understand it.
I just realized how long this got. Uhm. Yeah, I guess I’ve been writing for the last 2 hours. Whoops. Sorry about that. I guess I should go before I end up writing a whole book here. =P
Well, that’s weird. I just noticed that FB pulled up the link to my Squidoo lens. Didn’t know it did that. Well, there’s a picture of Etiole there. LOL! I spend most of my time on Squidoo and Zazzle and Zanga so I so rarely use IMs, emails, or messages, I’m not too sure how they work I’m afraid. I guess it pulled up the link, like on the status box, because I typed it a ways back. Whatever.
Comments Offon RE to IM on FaceBook – more detailed info about what started the witch accusations and harasment
Posted in About me, Adults with Aspergers, alien abduction, alien contact, aliens, Aspergers, Aspergers Syndrome, Aspie, Autism, Biddeford, church, church corruption, Church Leader, church leaders, Cryptids, EelKat, harassment, LDS, Maine, make America the land of the free again, Mormons, Old Orchard, Old Orchard Beach, On the Beach, oob, paranormal, stress, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, threats, Town of Old Orchard, UFO, UFOs, Violence, Wendy C. Allen, witches, York county
This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.
All Rights Reserved.
While there are around 20k pages on this website, most of them are blocked from search engines, with only around 800 of them available for appearing in Google/Bing/etc search results. The remainder can only be accessed via the various links found throughout this site. This was done deliberately on my part, and I did it because the bulk of the pages on this website are chapters from 138 novels and 423 novellas, so only the first page of each novel and novella indexed by search engines, and the remainder are linked in order, one page at a time, via clicking "next page" at the end of each. So if you are looking for a specific page from a specific novel, Google can't help you.
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Do you know who drove this backhoe over my house at 146 Portland Avenue, Old Orchard Beach, Maine on August 8, 2013? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son on November 14, 2013 at Southern Maine Community College and crippled me July 26, 2016 at scarborough WalMart,... they arrived the first time with a backhoe on August 8, 2013, that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since....
... which means it is now only a few weeks from the 14th anniversary of my son's murder. I was 8 month pregnant November 14, 2013, and a student ay SMCC, and coming out of the Buglight Lighthouse art studio after art class, when a still unidentifiedwoman wielding a golf club attacked me, severed my spine, while I was 8 months pregnant, triggered early labour, then killed my son minutes after he was born.
While accusing me of being transgender, screaming "transvestite freak" and "look at that thing, that's Ken's son in a dress"... while I was 8 months pregnant.
My house at 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine, July 4, 2013, photo taken because we had just finished building a baby room on the back. vs My house August 8, 2013, when the same group of people (yes group, the golf club woman was not alone when she attacked November 14, 2013, nor was she alone with her second attack July 2016.) who murdered my son and crippled me, arrived the first time with a backhoe that they used to drive over my house, during a time of day that I normally was home asleep... I had to work a different shift at the Waffle Cone Pizza Food Truck at George's Parking Lot by Bill's Pizza at the OBB Peir, that day, otherwise, I too would be at the bottom of a landfill, along with my house and everything I owned that was also in the house. I was 5 months pregnant at the time and have been homeless for just under 14 years, homeless ever since. |
The backhoe driver returned November 14, 2013, armed with a golf club, used it to break my spine and smash my baby's brains out on the ground
On November 14, 2013, my son was murdered. I was 8 months pregnant, leaving my college classroom, and just getting into my car, when 3 strangers, a man and two women, armed with golf clubs leapt out from behind my car screaming "kill or be killed, kill the transvestite freaks, kill them all before they kill us! look at that thing! That is Ken's son, look at how it's dressed! kill the transvestite freaks! kill or be killed"... while the bald man and the red haired woman chanted this over and over, the blonde woman, lunged with the golf club.
She severed my spine, I am now a quadriplegic, and been paralyzed arms and legs, and in a wheelchair for 13 years now. She broke my hips, my knees, my legs, ruptured most of my discs, and shattered three of my vertebrae so bad that the shards of bone acted like glass and embedded themselves into my spinal column nerve bundle.
The attack also triggered labour.
My son was born in that parking lot, and he lived only a couple of minutes, before the deranged blonde woman, beat his head in and smashed his brains out, with the same golfclub she had just used to sever my spine and leave me crippled for the rest of my life.
Realizing that I was not transgender, and they'd just murdered a baby, the man grabbed the 2 women and forcibly dragged them away to a 4 door white pickup truck, and they left me there to die.
The FBI told me later, that a few weeks before this attack, and transwoman, had murdered a cis woman, in a parking lot, abou 20 miles away from where I was attacked. The FBI, believes that my attackers, had somehow found out I wrote transgender fiction, connecting my real name to my penname, (my father's name is in fact "Ken", and I do have a brother) and believed that I wrote transgender fiction, because I was myself transgender, even though I'm not transgender. The FBI, believes the attackers, thought I was my brother, pretending to be a woman.
The FBI investigation, into my son's murder, has dragged on for 13 years, and still now in 2026, continues on, with the FBI, still not having yet identified my attackers, and only guessing at what their motive was.
Thus we come to 2014, and the full swing change of the series I write. WHY my series, went from just a transman main character living life, to the full blown Mpreg genre series that it now is today.
Before the attack, I had a chance of having a baby. I don't know. And because I'm in America, I'm too old to adopt. You have to be under 45 years old to adopt a baby. That is the law in America. I was informed this, when we tried to adopt, now that my injuries leave me unable to get pregnant a 9th time.
Thus began my obsessively writing, my transman main character, pregnant. Always pregnant now. Every time. Every story. Stories that now fully focus on pregnancy, labour, miscarriages, babies dying, babies living, raising babies... the whole series, since 2014 has devolved into an outright baby obsession.
Meanwhile, reborn baby dolls were suggested to me by my therapist, and have also become a deeply obsessive part of my life. Because 13 years ago my son was murdered minutes after he was born, because a transphobic bigot mistook me for being transgender, I'm STILL in a wheelchair, struggling to relearn to use my arms and legs, now 13 years later, and I'm still DAILY dealing with police officers and FBI agents who while they are trying to find my son's killer, they are also daily reminding me... oh, yeah, my son was murdered, literally ripped out of my belly, by a transphobe. Who still has not been located and walks free to kill again.
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The golfclub woman as she looked during the golf club attack at Southern Maine community college November 14, 2013. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
The golfclub woman as she looked during the shopping cart attack at Scarborough WalMart July 26, 2016. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
The 2nd woman as she looked at both attacks, her hair goes all the way down to her knees. She is about 20 to 30 years older then me and would be around 75 to 85 years old now in 2026. If you have any information about the identity of this child murderer's accomplice, please call FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 |
Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
I am a legally blind quadriplegic, and low verbal, I have also published 138 novels in the last 48 years. It's not as impossible as people think. The problem being blind and quadriplegic, medically have different meanings then how those two words are used medically.
Fewer than 3% of all blind people see nothing. While 97% people who are classified as fully blind are able to see up to two feet in front of them. Legally blind means I can see more then two feet in front of me but not far enough to see twenty feet in front of me. In my case I can see about eight feet.
Quadriplegic, has varying levels, it means having a damaged nerve bundle in the spinal column causing limited mobility of all 4 limbs, (in my case this was done by a women wielding a golf club, who also beat my 8 month infant's head to pulp on the parking lot tarmak, at the same time she severed my spine with the same golf club; both on November 14, 2013; the FBI investigation into my son's murder and my being crippled has gone on now for 13 years, a few weeks away from 14 years now, and the FBI has still not identified the killer or her motive). Contrary to popular misconception, quadriplegic does NOT mean ZERO movement, it means means limited movement, specifically in means unable to lift arms over head, unable to grip fingers around objects to pick them up, and unable to stand for more then 5 minutes to a time. Because there are so many thousands of nerves in each limb it is actually very rare for there to be 100% no movement, but how much, and to what extent varies by patent depending upon the specific point of injury to the spinal column.
Meaning typing is still possible for over 60% of all quadriplegics.
In my case, it was the lower spine that was severed, cutting off completly my ability to move my right leg, leaving limited feeling in my left leg, and an ability to stand but not walk, with crutches, for the first 9 years. I regained enough nerve growth in my legs by the 9th year to be able to take ten or twelve steps allowing me to get out of bed for the first time since the golf club attack; This in turn lead to me being able to start using a wheelchair, as I was able to sit upright for the first time as well.
Because the shattered vertebrae bone fragments are broken off completly and embedded into the nerve bundle just above my tailbone, doctors were saying I would never walk again, but now at 13 years, I am able to push mu wheelchair like a walker, a distance of almost a thousand steps a day. Though doctors are still doubtful I will ever walk "normally" again, I have proven them wrong, when their said 13 years ago, that I would never walk again at all.
But because of the placement of the damage to my spine, regaining hand use, was always thought possible, it was just a matter of waiting long enough for nerve regrowth, along side daily finger exercises. I was able to continue writing, after becoming quadriplegic, because I still have use of my right thumb, and 2 fore figures of my right hand. And can type 90 words per minute with those 3 fingers.
I however have no wrist strength, elbow strength, or shoulder strength, so I am not able to form a fist, or lift objects, or brush my hair, or my teeth, all thing I have to have my caretaker do. But, those things are not needed for typing. Unfortunately, my pinky and ring fingers are "nerve dead" and drag over the keyboard, and cause horrific spelling errors and typos, which are incredibly frustrating to deal with.
Unfortunately trying to edit errors myself, just makes the errors worse, because those same two fingers drag over the keyboard yet again. Prior to the golf club attack, I rarely had spelling errors; now I got more spelling errors then someone is learning English as second language. Editing is a challenge, that I've had to accept, I simply can not do myself, and I have to hire several editors to help with that.
Low verbal means sounds can still be made, sounds that software programs like Dragon can be trained to recognize and translate, and type into full words. More then half my novels were typed with this method.
I still have a long ways to go before I am anything close to being able to do the things I could do before the golf club woman beat my baby's brains out and shattered my spine. And you know what's more frustrating then how slow mu medical progression has been? The fact that it's been 13 years and the police and FBI are still coming up at dead ends as to who the woman who murdered my baby was, or why she even did it.
My son's 14th birthday is only a few weeks away, but he didn't even get to live long enough to celebrate his 1st birthday, I don't even know why. And I can't wait to regain my ability to walk again, because regaining my ability to walk, means gaining the ability to go outside and start looking for my son's murderer myself instead of sitting at home trapped in a wheelchair waiting for the police and FBI to to find her. So, writing isn't a big priority for me anymore. I only write now, as a way to exercise my hands, in between relearning to walk.
Never let a disability stop you. Plenty of writers, artists, athletes, do not let either blindness, speech impediments, or limited mobility hold then back from perusing their careers.
Do you know who these two woman who crippled me and murdered my baby, at Southern Maine Community College at 10PM on November 14, 2013, are, and what their connection to the backhoe that drove over my house is? If you have any information, please give it to FBI Agent Andy Drewer at 207–774–9322 of the Portland, Maine FBI office.
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There are no ebook editions as they are already available digitally here on my website.