Quick test about those involved in putting Elsa Newman in prison--despite her innocence

1. What do you call it when a father molests his two sons sexually?
a. Incest
b. Sexual abuse
c. Child abuse
d. All of the above

2. What do you call it when a father is found in bed, nude from the waist down, with a small son who is completely nude?
a. A situation which would suggest child abuse.
b. A situation which would suggest child molestation.
c. A situation which is improper.
d. All of the above

3. What do you call it when a state’s attorney from Montgomery County, Maryland wants to convict a suspect so badly that he decides to retry her case after the state’s highest court has voided the verdict?
a. Political ambition
b. Fear of looking bad when a high-profile case went bad on him
c. Preparation to run for the office of Attorney General of Maryland
d. Deciding ahead of time who was at fault and then accepting only evidence which supports his theory.
e. All of the above.

4. What do you call it when Katherine Winfree, prosecuting attorney in the Newman case is
observed late one night, driving erratically; when stopped by police, she refused a breathalyzer test?
a. DUI
b. Illegal
c. A sign of an individual who cannot be totally trusted within the framework of the law.
d. All of the above

5. What do you call an attorney who lies on the stand about his own client, stating that he has heard said client, while sitting in his office, state that she wanted to kill her estranged husband?
a. An attorney who is testifying in defiance of attorney-client privilege.
b. A man who is willing to lie about a former client
c. A man who believes he will be believed by a jury when he claims that his former client--well-educated, an attorney in her own right and a woman of considerable wisdom--sat in his office and talked about a plan to murder her estranged husband, when her attorney knows she never did this.
d. All of the above.

6. What do you call an estranged husband who sets up the prosecution case against his wife for said prosecutors?
a. A sociopath
b. Someone able to make a good impression when he chooses to do so
c. Someone who has a darker side, which before the trial had taken the form of spousal abuse, physical and sexual abuse of his children, and who, although friendly and believable in public, became at home a surly, sullen man who seldom spoke unless to shout or demean.
d. All of the above.

7. What do you call a court psychologist who sets aside the results of psychological testing in favor of his own personal opinion of Elsa Newman and her estranged husband?
a. A liar
b. A man who will one day recommend that the Castillo children in Maryland be allowed unsupervised visits with their father.
c. A man who will be responsible for the fact that said father drowned all of his children in the bathtub during one of those unsupervised visits.
d. A man who has no integrity.
e. All of the above.

A BLOG FOR AS[S]...

Recognize the hands? Remember when I used them in one of my original blogs, not just on this site, but on several sites? Remember how quickly you removed your picture--which contained those hands--from your Facebook page? Why did you remove that picture? I can only suppose that you removed it in fear that someone who saw both pages might recognize the hands and know of whom I was writing.

That is certainly what I would have done, if I were a pedophile who was molesting my own sons and somebody cropped my hands from MY picture and put those hands on a blog site.

After spending two years and more researching your situation and the case of your ex-wife, Elsa Newman, I have a pretty good idea about some other things I would do if I were a pedophile, abusing my own sons, and some obnoxious little old lady from the state of Washington began exposing me on a blog site. Oh, yes! How about some of this:

1. I would be sure that CPS never interviewed my sons except in my presence.

2. I would lie to my sons about their mother. I would say things like, “Your mom is nothing but a failed lawyer.” It’s balderdash; Elsa Newman was quite a successful lawyer. But that’s what I would tell me sons if I were a pedophile and I were molesting them.

3. I would tell other lies about their mother. I would tell them she is “crazy,” despite the fact that Elsa Newman’s psychological testing showed her well within the framework of what is considered normal.

4. I would lie about my own psychological testing. I would never let my sons know that I was the one whose tests showed more-than-questionable tendencies toward mental problems.

5. If I were a child molester, and if I were molesting my own children, I would be delighted at the opportunity to put my sons’ mother in prison. Said mother, after all, is their primary line of defense. I would lie, if I had to, in order to make her look guilty.

6. Hell…I’d even pay other people to lie. I would do most anything to keep my obscene secret a secret.

7. If my children disclosed the truth, I would beat them and/or use any other possible form of intimidation to force them to take back their words of accusation.

8. If I were a child molester who specialized in molesting his own children, and my children disclosed the truth, I would take what those children said and tell authorities that it couldn’t have happened: Nobody could stuff a whole transformer toy into a little boy’s rectum. Ridiculous. Of course the fact would remain that I hadn’t stuffed the whole toy in there--it just felt that way to the kid. But I would make the kid look foolish and unbelievable.

9. If I were a child molester, abusing my own children, I would persuade my children that those things never happened. I would use mental, emotional, physical, spiritual and any other kind of force I could think of to assure that my sons lost track of reality--and wouldn’t even remember the things I had done to them.

10. If I were a child molester, and my own children were the primary objects of my attentions, I would do everything in my power to keep my children from their mother. She’s in prison, after all. She must have done SOMETHING to deserve to be there. And I would lie about my ex-wife until my sons believe me.

How am I doing, AS[S]?

And there’s so much more I would do, isn’t there? But that’s enough for now. Maybe you will write a response to me and continue with further thoughts about the actions of a pedophile who abuses his own children?

The coast-to-coast/border-to-border campaign begins

Finally I have thought of something to do to publicize the case of Elsa Newman and her sons.

On the 20th of November, I will begin a cross-country trip in my recently-purchased motor home. I will travel with my 13 pugs, who now have cages built into the motor home so they can travel safely.

The motor home will bear signs such as "Free Elsa Newman;" "Elsa Newman, Innocent and in prison," "#92197, Maryland Correctional Institution at Jessup," "8 years behind bars--but innocent," "Elsa Newman, separated from her sons by Maryland's injustice system."

The motor home will travel through as many states as possible, en route to Maryland. Also posted on the MH will be the website for this blog, as well as the website for the online petition. In addition, I plan to carry a paper petition and find as many signatures as possible to add to that. There will be handouts: a flyer for those who want a quick summary; a brochure for those who want more.

If you read this, please wish me blessing and peace for this journey. And please pray that my audacity will stir interest all across the United States, but especially in Maryland, where Governor McNalley has the power to step into this case and actually DO something, whereas all I can do is make a fool of myself on a cross-country tour.

And if you have not yet signed the online petition, please do so at this site: http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/Free-Elsa-Newman

Thank you, friends. And feel free to check around you for others in Newman's situation. Estimates range as high as 1 in 7 prisoners who may be innocent of the crime for which they are imprisoned. A despicable failure in the so-called American justice system.

Peace...blessings...love and light...

Aine

Not Your Usual Elsa Newman Story!!!!

But a story of a whole other kind...and one I cannot resist sharing.



Today I met a man, a grizzled, softhearted and kindly man, a Viet Nam veteran whose eyes and heart still fill with tears when he thinks, reads or writes about things that happened to him as the Viet Nam War was drawing to a close.

May I call him “Bill”? That’s not his real name, but although he gave me permission to write this and to share the story of one particular experience that left him haunted and hurting, he wants to remain anonymous.

Bill was among the last servicemen sworn in at the time of the Viet Nam War. Unable to see himself struggling through steaming jungles, he enlisted in the Navy. The Navy promised him that if he would take and pass certain classes, he could serve as an electrician. He took them. He passed. And he was on his way to the far east, aboard ship.

One thing you should know before you read further: Bill wishes there might be some way men--and now women, too--might learn even a little about what to expect in war--even when that war has ended. He was, he says, totally unprepared for the things he saw.

This is the haunting story that he wrote as he was trying to recover from the horrors of one of his last days in the Navy

As the fall of South Vietnam was taking place in late April, 1975, I was proud to be a crew member aboard the USS Blue Ridge (LCC19) [photo above] and be called upon to take part in “Operation Freedom Wind,” the evacuation of the last Americans and of loyal South Vietnamese civilians. I was in the Navy, on a ship and mostly safe. I was not out in the jungles fighting the Viet Cong, dodging bombs and gunfire, but I nevertheless had experiences that still, to this day, haunt and trouble me greatly.

As the evacuation was going on--escaping and frightened civilians--as they were swimming and floating on almost anything that could float, I had to watch helpless from the deck of the ship, as multitudes of them drowned. There were old people, young people, women with their babies and their other children--all of them fighting to get close to the ship, get to safety.

It was horrible for me that I could do nothing to help them. I know that I was not responsible for them. But the guilt and shame that I have carried for the last 32-plus years have been unbearable.

The ship quickly became filled to capacity with the people we could safely bring on board. Even the helicopters bringing out evacuees had to find alternate landing places--and then the helicopters were ditched, to make room for these fleeing swarms of human beings.

As more and more people were able to climb on board, we were busy throwing overboard weapons, supplies--anything we could find to get rid of--just to make room for more people.

We were about a mile from shore, and as people weakened and fell away from their flotation devices, I had to watch them drown. They were just too exhausted to hang on anymore. There were literally hundreds of people just out of my reach--out of our reach.

This event will stay with me for the rest of my life. I cannot escape it. Sometimes when I hear a helicopter--or even a spinning washing machine--it is like I am right back there on the ship, watching people who desperately needed help, people who were reaching out to us. But they were not within range of help, not by me…not by anyone else.

On that same occasion, one helicopter brought aboard a wounded Marine. He was pretty banged up, and I assisted the team to get him to sick bay. I never knew if he turned out OK, if he died or not. I just knew that I had seen another man in pain. And I realize that watching this guy, all bloody and screaming, created in me the same feelings of watching all those helpless people drown.

After the war I began abusing alcohol, just so I would be able to get to sleep without nightmares--the faces and the screams of those people, both the hundreds in the water and the single Marine I helped to sick bay.

After treatment for alcohol abuse, at the VA in Seattle, I no longer drink. But drinking was the only way I could cope back then.