Each time I was taken, there was similar trauma before they could «safely» use me and be able to insure that my programming and amnesia would remain locked up tightly. All of this for a Governor's or President's sexual perversions, or for the fulfillment of the New World Order agenda.

We owned a large family camper that was fully self-contained and we kept it stocked and packed, completely ready at anytime should we decide that we wanted to get away for a long weekend or week vacation. We traveled regularly on Thanksgiving holidays and during summers, often driving up Highway 1, winding up the scenic and beautiful California coastline. We went to Ojai Valley, Big Sur, Carmel, Monterey, San Francisco, Oxnard, Paso Robles, Santa Barbara, Leo Carrillo State Beach, Emma Woods State Beach, Pismo Beach, San Luis Obispo, and Napa Valley. At other times we went up into the High Sierras, to visit Mammoth, Sequoia, Tahoe, Reno, Yosemite National Park, Big Bear, and Crestline. We also took the children to Six Flags Magic Mountain and, of course, Disneyland.

Bob Hope showed up in many of these locations. It seemed like he was everywhere. I had a number I called to let him know my vacation plans or he would make the suggestion of where to go. When we arrived at our destination, I wouldn't consciously know to expect to see him but the part of me that was programmed and readied for the rendezvous was instructed to walk towards him when he appeared. Sometimes he would snap his fingers in front of my face or jingle his keys in front of my eyes to get me to respond. He often liked to meet for sex or information exchange in mountain cabins. He would say he needed some time away from the hustle and bustle of city life and I was his plaything. He said I was better than «Jeanie» (the genie) because all she did was come out of a bottle. He said with me he could rub my magic spot and it was magic-he'd come! He usually spoke in clever little lines and phrases. I met him aboard yachts, also, even when I thought Craig and I were simply going sailing with friends. What actually occurred often was a rendezvous with Bob or some leader they needed to get information to. Sometimes Reagan was brought out on a little ocean excursion and ended up navigating right to us. I was then transported aboard with him for sex and messages. Sometimes I stayed all night with him on his transport and then was put back on the sailboat I came on the next day.

I was with President Reagan in Mazatlan, Mexico. In fact, my husband and I acquired a timeshare, the "Presidential Suite," at the El Cid Hotel, in Mazatlan, where we went in later years.

One evening in the early 80's, while we were 'vacationing' in Mazatlan, Craig and I dressed to go out and I became panicked because I put my contact lens on inside out and couldn't get it back out. From my attempts my eye was becoming red and ugly. Craig's father was with us at the time and the two of them thought I was acting very strangely to be so upset about such a little thing. But, my inner system of personalities knew that this would not do when I was nearing an assignment with the President.

The next thing I remembered, I was escorted by the Secret Service to the back door of a dark Mexican Restaurant. I joined Reagan in a booth in the back of the restaurant and waited for him to finish eating. It wasn't long until we walked out on the beach. We walked hand in hand along the beach with the Secret Service agents following a short distance behind us. As we were walking on the beach that night, Reagan seemed upset and anxious, very nervous. He said he was concerned about the 'state of affairs. With my pre-programmed sexual orientation, my mind immediately went to the thought of sexual affairs, but as he continued speaking I realized he was speaking of the affairs of the nation. He went on to explain that being President was difficult, that there was a lot more to it than I could imagine. He said he was concerned about the way things were going and was upset with Kissinger about some things he had handled. He said he was very upset with Henry for taking so many matters into his own hands. He said he knew a few hours with me would help him snap out of the mood he was in.

I had been given a few key words by the Council to help Reagan "snap out of it" when he got into one of his slumps. They were very simple phrases like, "everything will be okay," said while I was rubbing or caressing his forehead over and over. He seemed to respond to that like a kitten going into a purr. I would generally rub him all over, front and back, before climbing on top of him to satisfy him sexually.

We went into a little cabin-type motel on the beach. It was just the two us with Secret Service agents all around outside. The little room was done in Mexican design; a red bedspread in Mexican colors, yellows and blues, and a little pair of maracas sat on a wooden dresser. I had sex with him and then we left; he did not go to sleep as usual. He hugged me briefly outside the motel and kissed me on the cheek before he left with the Secret Service agents.

A Secret Service agent took me back to where I was staying with my husband. It was a very quick encounter; rushed, like Reagan had somewhere else to go.

Craig and I returned to our home in California without conscious knowledge of my "missing time" or of what he did during my absence.

When Danny was an infant we went for programming together. He was a year old when his innerspace mind files were created in order for him to have a wide range of access points, without the necessity of as much trauma as was necessary back in the days when mine were created. Time had shown our controllers that trauma itself was one cause for the breakdown in slaves. So Danny was exposed to their newer technology, from birth, and Danny and I were both heavily programmed and cross-programmed together.

I was there with Danny when he was 3 or 4 years old. It seemed like a school field trip, but the series of events that unfolded were much different. Danny had on long baggy blue print shorts and a light blue T-shirt. We were sitting with other mothers and children, in the front row of a circular auditorium. Men in NASA suits, who were dressed like astronauts were all around and one of them came over, lifted Danny up and put him into a chair. "Like the real astronauts sit in!" the man explained. This chair had equipment all around it.

Danny smiled so sweetly across the auditorium at me like he was so proud and so happy to be chosen to sit in the big astronaut chair. There was such anticipated excitement and innocence in his joyful smile. Soon the man instructed him to lean back so his head was properly aligned to fit into a silver band and when Danny was in the proper alignment, I watched the NASA official clamp the back of the silver band to fit snugly around his little forehead. Danny looked up at the NASA official, eyes wide with innocence and youthful exuberance, and smiled as the man said to Danny, "Hold on for the ride of your life!"

Another man brought in some sort of visual/optical glasses (virtual reality?) to rest in front of Danny's eyes and told him to look into the viewer. Then to my horror, the man standing next to Danny gave a cue to another man and I watched in agony as Danny's little body jolted. They must have been giving him electroshock and God knows what else. After a time, his little body went limp and he was unconscious.

I was dying inside, but knew from many past experiences with his older brother and sister that if I made any attempt to interfere things would only get worse for all of us, especially Danny, so against all maternal protective instinct, I maintained my composure.

Pretty soon the NASA official waved a smelling salt or something in a cotton ball bound with gauze, in front of Danny's face. He came to abruptly and they released him from the equipment and then from the chair. He was sweating profusely around his forehead and under his nose. As the man helped him out of the chair, Danny looked over at me and several facial expressions quickly washed over him. At first he looked utterly humiliated and embarrassed, which was soon replaced with a look of utter shame that spread over his entire face and down his little body.