This is the far more spectacular story I once promised to tell.
I began this history in mid-May, when Jill received her terminal diagnosis. Jill has read this fully and contributed. To the disappointment of many, she hasn’t yet dropped dead. But we have both decided it is time to make public the true story of why and how she is dying. This story started as something else. Not a eulogy, not a memorial, a written memento mori of incidents and echoes.
If there is purpose in all of this, I leave it to someone else to find.
This is what Jill wants to be said, what I want to say, for now, so that it is said.
The history begins and ends with Jill.
In Jill’s life, the chain of events has every link in place, starting with being an unwanted child from conception. Everything has fallen from that. Though the chain is clear, neither one of us have ever been able to discern a reason for each link, for the end. She often asked me why and I have no answer. Her conclusion is that she is paying for her sins, possibly from a past life. Why she should pay and in the manner she has while much worse people — such as the many who have actively contributed to her suffering — have not, is another question I cannot answer.
This is not the canonization of Jill. The better I got to know her, the more obvious her flaws became. Still, she did not deserve what happened. She has earned my gratitude and trust.
We discussed her death a lot, especially once it became clear in April that she was going to be killed. Her death is pointless on any scale, except to three lives whom it touches. The first is hers, of course. The second is a girl who has been dead for thirty years. The final one is mine. It is my fervent hope that Jill’s death pays her debts and buys her peace. She says that it has.
To understand the Jill’s actions of the last two years, you have to understand her past. You can read about it over at Maggie McNeill’s blog and get the gist of it.
When she was fourteen, after a lifetime of neglect and abuse by her mother, she was kicked out of the house for refusing to have sex with her mother’s boyfriend. She was on the road about six weeks and in Ohio when an attractive predator spotted her and brought her to his basement. She spent the next three years in captivity, usually bound in some manner. She was unbound for Bruce to “train” her. Once her “training” was complete, Bruce pimped her out as a professional submissive.
What that really meant was men paid Bruce hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars in the very early 80s to beat the life out of a bony, malnourished teenage girl. She ate so little she stopped menstruating. That Bruce made a thriving business off of her is horrific. The stories she’s told me of various appointments are appalling.
To those who doubt, her stories are true. They’re things only men would think up and most of the time, it’s the mundane details that stand out the most to both of us. I’ve read stories from so-called trafficking victims who describe ridiculous “Satanic” rituals or elaborate setups. The truth is, the men who were Bruce’s clients weren’t very bright, in my opinion, and they had a lot of the same stupid fantasies and beliefs that most vanilla clients do — only much darker and violent.
Bruce was making very good money with Jill. (Since his advertising predates the Internet, we have always wondered where he advertised and how he had so much success. He didn’t discuss the business with Jill so we don’t know.) She lived naked and bound in a cold basement, fed a tuna fish sandwich per day, if he remembered to or wasn’t punishing her. About a year into it, he brought home another runaway. She went by Liz but her real name is Maria Isabel Rojas and I look like her.
At first, Bruce set the girls in opposition to each other, telling Liz lies about the situation, forcing Jill to participate in Liz’s “punishments.” Liz hated Jill until she finally realized Jill was in exactly the same situation. Then they bonded.
They were sent out on doubles, earning even more money for Bruce. About nine months after Liz’s arrival, they were sent to a basement full of men. The party was supposed to be three men for three hours, instead the two girls faced twenty men. The fee was $2000 and the men didn’t feel like they needed to pay. Liz’s job was to collect. Bruce had sent a driver who was outside waiting and doing nothing. The girls were beaten until the driver wondered what was taking so long and came down to investigate. He brought Bruce and three other men to pull the girls out.
Since she tried to collect the money, Liz took the worst of the beating. The driver took Liz and Jill home, with no cash. The girls were taken down to Bruce’s basement. Bruce was furious and beat Liz some more, mostly in the head. Jill did not try to stop Bruce and has carried that guilt the rest of her life. Why a brutally-abused teenage girl in captivity who weighed about 100lbs thought she could do anything about a well-built 6’5″ man in a rage is beyond me. The driver and one of the other men actually stopped Bruce in an attempt to keep Liz from being beaten to death.
Liz lay on the cold concrete with her head on Jill’s lap, just like she had on the ride home. They talked a little, Liz slurring her speech. She wanted to go home and see her little sister.
Liz was bleeding heavily from the nose, mouth, ears, and a gaping open-head wound — as though her skull had been caved in. She said she tasted salt and bitter at the back of her throat, which Jill believes was spinal fluid. Both Liz and Jill had lost consciousness at various times while being beaten by the men. Bruce told Jill to clean Liz with a towel, which quickly soaked with blood. Liz had stopped speaking by this point. She had been holding Jill’s hand and she slowly relaxed her grip and her hand fell to the floor. Jill has never been sure whether Liz died or slipped into a coma. Bruce took Liz away.
The next morning Jill was packed into the trunk of Bruce’s car and he drove them to Los Angeles, where they remained for another year before Jill finally escaped him. He stayed in SoCal and is currently a CPA.
When Jill first told me about Liz only a couple years ago, I was surprised. Jill hoped Bruce took Liz to the hospital and that she survived, was maybe living her own life. We both know that is a fairy tale, desperate magical thinking. Liz died, Bruce dumped her body where he could, and left Ohio. Liz was a runaway from San Antonio. She said her family wasn’t looking for her. Liz had a hunger for life Jill did not and Jill feels the burden of guilt because she survived when Liz did not, and feels Liz paid for her survival. Liz may have been discovered at some point and is a cold case Jane Doe. Or she may never have been found.
Jill hadn’t even mentioned Liz to her therapists but after we started talking about Liz, she did. It never eased her survivor guilt but at least she could talk about Liz as a person — Liz now exists in the memories of three people other than Jill. And now, at least, she is known to a few more people. She existed and is acknowledged.
That I so closely resemble Liz has haunted Jill since we first met in 2007. Then, in 2012, I lay on a floor on the verge of dying because of a man. Jill saved my life. She felt she owed it to Liz not to let another friend die if she could do something to stop it. So she did. And she has paid for her actions.
june 13, 2012 â€“ proof that pigs can’t fly
It is hard to know where to start with this day as everything that follows falls from this day. This is a long history but it’s really the shortest explanation of events I can offer while still showing the links of the chain. I leave out a lot and it’s still novella-length.
I had a client who likes to go to South Padre Island. He would rent a nice beach house. He’s a Houston attorney whom we refer to as Pig (one of his email addresses gave me this idea, the first four letters minus the s). He also flies a small plane. I garnered Jill an invite to our next trip and since she loves flying, he promised he would fly us down from Houston.
Jill realized very quickly that he’s a terrible pilot and had no idea what he was doing in a plane. She was in the copilot’s seat and I was in the seat behind her (four-seat Cessna). He flew most of the trip at 1800 feet, deviating wildly from his flight path, merrily crossing through military airspace, transponder off, not responding to their hails. He couldn’t find our airport and was lining up to land on the rooftop of the local Wal-Mart when Jill pointed out the actual airport to him.
Jill understands flight better than I do and has written the next four paragraphs. Air Traffic Control told him to land on runway 17L. He requested and received permission to land on runway 13 despite this being less aligned to prevailing headwinds. He stated having â€œpullâ€ with the airport and that it would be easier to land on 13 as 17L presented a more difficult approach pattern and that he was in a rush to get on the ground, to the FBO, and on with the vacation. Pig’s “approach” consisted of flying west following an east/west country road adjacent to the airport, flying nearly westbound and making a sharp left turn to runway 13. Runway 13 means 130 degrees which is southeast. We were flying astonishingly low at 100 feet and I shocked at what I saw. We had crossed the arriving glide slope of the arriving airliners into the airport and were now adversely affected by turbulence. Equally astonishing was Pig’s failure to attempt to level the wings and line up to the runway.
Upon final descent to 13 Pig and I discussed repeatedly that he was at too low an elevation upon approach as the indicators for elevation were visibly only red to us [notation: all four VASI indicators were red] and would have been red and white had we been at a higher elevation according to Pig. Pig caught that I was gaping at the four red lights and asked if I knew that the expression “four reds you’re dead.” I angrily told him that I knew exactly what the four red lights meant and assumed he would adjust for the low altitude by flaring, lowering the aircraft flaps, and increasing thrust to gain altitude. Instead, he boasted that he could handle this and did nothing to increase altitude.
We received communication just prior to landing of high vertical wind sheer on runway 13 which Pig stated nearly caused a King Air flight to crash due to wind sheer. Pig jovially said “Did you hear that?” Pig was confident in his skills to achieve a protocol landing and proceeded to land immediately on 13 despite radio traffic advising use of 17L to avoid wind sheer to arriving aircraft. Rather than follow standard protocol for landing this type of aircraft, Pig simply came in at 50 knots and shut the engine off to a full stop before touching down, which caused us to slam the runway. We immediately caught a wind sheer similar to the King Air Flight and our aircraft came up off the ground banking sharply left. The plane then slammed back down, rolling to the right. I slammed my head against the window, the impact knocked me unconscious.
Pig woke me up in order to assist him in restarting the aircraft engine while he boasted of the “heroic measures” he took to save all of our lives. As we taxied shortly after landing, Pig stated it was a vertical sheer that caused us, in his description, to lift 40 feet above the runway until we once again touched down very hard. Pig stated that he nearly rolled the aircraft and that we were very lucky to not have crashed due to his “ability” to handle the sheer but that he also admitted pilot error causing the rough landing. Pig’s landing caused the right side of the aircraft to roll higher than the left and therefore the right side of the aircraft took the brunt of the impact. End of Jill’s recounting of the landing.
To cap off the fun of landing, after Pig turned the engine back on and began to taxi, Jill says he received instructions to hold short for a FedEx A300 in the process of departing. Instead, Pig decided to shoot the gap and fortunately he made it or none of us would be here right now and none of what follows would’ve happened. (Spending time with Pig is sort of a game in seeing just how many ways you could possibly die while in his company. He drives as well as he flies.)
People refer to this as a “hard landing” but it’s technically a “crash” because the engine was off and the plane was not under the pilot’s control. (For some perspective on just how broad the definition of a “hard landing” is: Asiana Airlines Flight #214 was referred to as a “hard landing” during the initial news reports.) To illustrate what Jill and I experienced, imagine sitting in a plain old straight-backed chair forty feet above hard concrete, then getting dropped to the pavement while moving forward and tilted slightly to the right. That’s exactly what it felt like because that’s exactly what happened. The shock absorber on the plane was our bodies.
I invite any readers who play flight sim to use the parameters of this particular flight to try and land without crashing or flipping the plane.
The plane is a 1999 Cessna 182S, which is a fixed-wing, single-engine, four-passenger plane. The departing airport is West Houston (KIWS) and the destination is Harlingen (KHRL). Prevailing headwinds are 30-35 knots out of the south. Try flying most of the route along the coastline at 1800ft, 55 knots, and ignore military airspace. Approximately two minutes out from KHRL, approach runway 13 at roughly 100ft, maintaining 55 knots. Make sure all four VASI indicators are red on approach. When you’re 10-20ft over the tarmac, shut the engine off. Do not use your flaps, they are fully retracted the entire flight, including takeoff.
I was sitting over one of the back wheels and the shock traveled right up my spine, I felt it in slow motion. I was horrified to feel my head trying to separate itself from my shoulders, along with the even more terrible, sickening sensation of my brain crashing into the top of my skull. The pain from my shoulders up was tremendous, enough to make me want to scream but I held it back, my last coherent thought was to not upset Pig. The pain and the shockwave rippling up and down my spine was all I was aware of for several minutes. I didn’t become aware of the world again until we were pulling up to the FBO.
Jill whacked the side of her head against the window and passed out, waking up when Pig needed her to help him restart the engine. She got a severe concussion and brain edema. I got the extra-bonus package of injuries. The disc between C5/C6 is very herniated and C3/C4 is mildly herniated, I had severe whiplash and a severe concussion. Both of our concussions managed to hit every region of our brains due to the slight tilt of the plane when it landed, then settled, all the while still moving forward (which means our brains bounced both up and down and side to side, as well as front to back). Jill guesses I suffered a solid contrecoup concussion, which I felt as my brain painfully trying to escape my skull then crashing back down onto the base of my skull/top of my spine — not one of the recommended experiences of life. The pain was most intense in the lower right side of my head, behind my ear, deep in my head. That pain was the pain that made me want to scream.
I can relive the moment of impact if I want to, but I don’t really want to. Even writing about it is more than I really want to remember. That moment of shock is always accessible to me, the passage of time has yet to dull its edge.
To clear up a common misconception: the head does not have to be hit in order for the brain to be concussed. Concussions happen when the brain slams into the skull. Trauma to the skull can cause this, but a shockwave of energy also causes this, which is why whiplash victims often get concussions and why soldiers in the blast radius of IEDs get concussions. Jill’s head impacted the window, with the added impact of the headphones, which we believe gave her the brain edema as it was located exactly where the earpiece of the headphone was. My head hit nothing at all. I could care less what Pig’s head did or didn’t hit.
Pig seemed fine. He was secured in the pilot’s harness. I had a lap belt, Jill a shoulder and lap belt. Jill immediately felt what had happened to her, I did not. I was in shock, which is not unusual for severe injuries.
in which i win a contest, but no good prizes
Forty-eight hours later the shock wore off and my most serious injury became evident. As Friday afternoon progressed, I became incredibly nauseated, threw up, and became unable to walk or stand. Jill sent Pig to find a drugstore and get me something for the nausea while she assessed my condition without his interference. As a former flight attendant, she has EMT-B training. She suspected a brain bleed or a stroke. I’d crawled into the bedroom from the porch and was clinging to the edge of the rug, terrified of falling onto the wooden floor (it was like being on the edge of a cliff), nauseated like I’ve never felt in my life even though my stomach was now empty. My vertigo was extreme and I was quickly becoming incoherent, my speech slurring (she says I gave her a natural history of menstruation for a reason that remains a mystery to us both, as well as babbling about other random crap â€“ not that I remember any of this).
She knew the plane crash had caused this. We argued about calling 911, I wanted to wait for Pig since he would wonder where we’d gone (I vaguely remember this). As my friend, she listened to me, despite her better instincts and professional training. Her inaction at this moment has haunted her ever since, though I don’t hold her to blame in any way for listening to my nonsensical wishes. She was being a friend, trying to respect my (very stupid) desires.
When he finally arrived, I was tucked into bed, staring at the ceiling or passed out, I’m not sure (Jill says I was still babbling on, though I have no memory of this). I was not aware of his arrival. She asked him what had taken him so long. He’d gone searching for a tattoo parlor so he could get a fake tattoo to “cheer me up.” She told him I needed to go to the hospital. He said “God damnit!”, balled both of his fists and reared back to hit her but she looked him in the eye (he’s much shorter than her) and told him she wasn’t someone he could raise his fists to. He very wisely backed down.
His plan was to get me downstairs and into the SUV he’d rented, lay me in the back with my head in Jill’s lap and drive up and down South Padre Island looking for an urgent care. After multiple U-turns that made me moan in pain, fear, and nausea, he finally found one, then came running back out, deciding to drive us to the hospital after all (Jill later said the urgent care likely told him they would call an ambulance for me, making him scurry away). Which he did, unsafely and at high speeds. It felt awful, but at least I wasn’t having to watch it. Jill later told me how many near-miss accidents we had only because other drivers managed to avoid him, including him running a stop sign, and very nearly t-boning an ambulance once we reached the hospital. Any impact in my condition would have killed me.
She looked at my head laying on her leg and all she could think of was Liz. She relived the ride home with Liz, relived Liz’s last moments in the basement. She cried the whole way, something I didn’t know until recently. She knew that if she had not been there, insisting I go to the hospital, that Pig would have simply fucked me and left me there to die on the floor. All he cared about was his Cialis-fueled “physical intimacy,” like it meant something, like his 4″ penis was somehow important. After she told me of his actions, I drew the same conclusion. His further actions have only proven this, again and again. His actions culminate in Jill’s approaching death.
At the hospital, Pig and Jill pulled me into a wheelchair and rolled me into the ER, but I was unable to remain sitting, I knew I would end up falling so I let myself collapse out onto the floor, Jill stuck her very lumpy purse under my head as a pillow. I pass out on the emergency room floor for thirty minutes before they deign to take me back and examine me.
If you’ve ever been to an ER, chances are you’ve never seen someone laying on the floor. Even other people in the waiting room walked to the window to try and get me help because they were disturbed by it (Jill tried, but they told her they’d call security on her). Someone willing to lay on the floor of an ER waiting room is in bad shape.
In my memory, I only laid on the floor for about two seconds and was somewhat annoyed at being yanked up out of my sleep when I barely had a chance to rest. Months later, Jill told me how long I’d lain there. My guess is the staff thought I was merely drunk.
Traumatic brain injuries make you appear like you’re totally smashed but without any of the fun bits.
Two orderlies lift me up onto a gurney, Pig right there “assisting” but really just fondling my boobs (I was wearing a simple loose dress, no bra). During my stay in the ER, he put his hands on me every chance he got. Even the nurse attending me noticed. She didn’t care for Pig, and neither did I.
Unbeknownst to Jill or me, he’d signed in as my relative (which made his constant pawing at me even more disgusting). Later, he carried that ruse even further by getting the paperwork required for me to give him medical Power of Attorney. I never signed those papers (and have the original, unsigned documents to prove this), though he demanded to “direct” my treatment. He took this to ridiculous extremes, like trying to deny medicine they offered to me or answering questions directed at me, like the date of my last menstrual cycle (like he had any idea). He played the POA card with medical personnel but hid it from Jill who kept trying to get him out of the room for my sake. When I was conscious, I had to argue with the staff to correct anything he said, assuming he was not standing over me.
I have a vague memory of a nurse asking if Pig and I were related and I said no, confused as to why that even came up, then deciding it was the only reason they could think of to explain his presence since he was so much older than Jill or I. That we look very different and our names are very different should have left no question, but I didn’t know he’d made himself out to be…what…my grandfather? Who knows?
I was in very bad condition. Apparently it took a number of tries for me to get the date correct — I didn’t even know what year it was. I didn’t know my own name on the first try. I don’t remember being asked these questions. Most of my ER stay is what Jill told me, as my memories of it are very sparse.
Pig was constantly around, and twitchy. He nearly pulled my IV out a couple of times and I didn’t want him near me. I didn’t know I had the legal right to kick him out or I would have. He told the staff a story about a 1000ft mid-flight drop on the Southwest flight to Houston causing this and I tried to whisper the truth to nurses, but I was terrified as the man who hurt me was standing right there the whole time. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that whatever was wrong with me happened because of the crash caused by Pig. During my brief bouts of consciousness I knew I had to manage his ego despite how I felt about him, and make sure he felt all special because I was trapped and dependent on him while I was here. I really just wanted him gone and to not have to deal with him. I could have relaxed a lot more if he had stayed out of the room.
Jill tried to help me manage the situation but she was almost completely discounted — we didn’t know it was because he had positioned himself as my relative and lied about having medical POA. He never mentioned POA in front of Jill, apparently discussing this in the hallway with staff.
After pumping me full of anti-nausea drugs until I finally felt less queasy, I was taken for a CT (Pig answered the “Is there a chance you might be pregnant?” question for me). I was unconscious when the results came back. Jill said the doctor was rushing to us and pale. I had a 7mm mass in or near my pituitary gland. On my ER records, they note it as a subarachnoid hemorrhage. They also note it as a possible pituitary adenoma (not very likely) or a thrombosed aneurysm (probably not). They had to wake up the radiologist to come to the hospital to give me an MRI immediately.
The only clear thing I remember about this is sitting up in bed after the doctor had left and Jill explained to me what he said (since I couldn’t understand his explanation), triumphantly telling Jill that I beat her in the serious brain injury category (she’d had two concussions earlier in the year). I even used the phrase “In your face!” I’m not sure why I was so thrilled at winning that particular contest. Jill quickly conceded me the victory and made me lay back down.
Finally, the MRI was ready. I was given contrast fluid and Ativan in my IV (Pig tried to not allow them to give me the Ativan and I had to argue vehemently to get it — which wore me out but made me wonder why the hell I had to argue against Pig about my medical treatment). They wheeled me through corridors until all of us parted company at a set of double doors. Jill grasped my hand, hers icy. I was wearing her sunglasses with my eyes closed because anything other than almost pitch black hurt my eyes and head. She wished me well and good-bye. I was cheerful. They wheeled me out into the warm, dark night because the MRI was in a small building outside the main hospital. I was thrilled at the quiet, Pig-free space, and enjoyed the stars overhead. (Given how nearsighted I am, plus wearing non-prescription sunglasses, star-gazing was impossible â€“ just my brain-damaged hallucination.)
The two orderlies raised me onto the MRI machine. I tucked Jill’s glasses in the V of one of their shirts. They wrapped me up like a burrito, in several blankets. They made me snug as a bug in a rug. One of them stuck what I thought were headphones in my ears (no, just Styrofoam earplugs on a string â€“ a fact I didn’t realize until I had a neck MRI a month later). I was warm and snug, I felt great. I closed my eyes as the machine began moving. Inside I was treated to a sound and light show worthy of Fantasia. I have vague memories of it but the music was incredible, often tribal, and the light show emotional, counterpointing the music. Sometimes the music hinted of electronica as well. I loved all of it.
At one point it all stopped and they pulled me out to adjust the contrast. I was a little miffed at having my fun interrupted and blankets unwrapped, but was happy once again when they wrapped me up and the machine pulled me back in. When I came out the second time, I knew the fun was over. I was given the sunglasses and the earplugs were removed. I missed the MRI almost enough to cry.
Apparently it was a 90 minute scan. During that time Jill and Pig sat together in a hallway by the double doors. He sobbed great crocodile tears, except when he was badgering and attempting to bribe the hospital security guard to open up the Starbucks and make him some coffee. He was capable of turning his tears on and off like a faucet. He should’ve been an actor. He didn’t want to leave the hospital to get food and lose his authority over me.
Jill was terrified. She knew that if the reading was bad, I would be wheeled directly into surgery and the possibility of my death on the table. She didn’t know if she would see me again. Though she has joked that she’s never quite forgiven me for that 90 minutes she had to hold Pig’s hand and listen to his bullshit while she was grieved with anxiety. I can’t blame her — it’s asking a lot from a friend to endure Pig’s histrionics.
This was the closest he came to admitting all this was his fault: he said he very worried that he had caused my injury by his landing errors and that he would never forgive himself if it were true because he loved me. “I could never forgive myself if I did something to harm that girl or caused this. I love her so much.” Followed by more sobbing.
Pig â€“ there is zero doubt you caused my injuries. So don’t forgive yourself. I insist.
Back in my room, Jill asked me about my experience. I raved about it. She was skeptical. (If you want to know what an MRI really sounds like, click here. It ain’t Fantasia.) She asked me if I knew what MRI stood for. She says I shouted “Magnet…Information…” whereupon I passed out for 20 minutes, woke up, yelled “Device!” and passed out again. I have only the slightest memory of yelling this, minus the time gap.
They declared the MRI clear. I have never received my images from the hospital so I have never had another professional opinion on the reading. But according to my research on subarachnoid hemorrhages, it often takes several days before it shows up on an MRI. Also, I don’t have insurance and Pig was seriously annoying everyone who had to speak with him. They discharged me with some meclizine and ondansetron. (Meclizine is useless with serious concussions. Ondansetron, aka anti-nausea medication, is useful.)
I was dressed, with lots of pawing from Pig, wheeled out, loaded into the SUV and driven at normal speeds back to the beach house. I followed Pig up to the second floor, Jill behind me to hold me steady. I didn’t want Pig touching me. I undressed, crawled into the middle of the bed and passed out.
Jill was in the kitchen having a snack when Pig came in for some bourbon. He wanted her to drink with him, she kept declining. He wanted his vitally important “physical intimacy” no matter what and no matter from whom. (Cialis addles the brains of the men who take it, psychological clearance should be required before getting it). She went to her bedroom. He eventually came into our bedroom and got in bed with me. I felt him practically on top of me, but I decided I would just put up with whatever happened as I couldn’t endanger myself by balancing on the far edge of the bed (how I normally slept with him). I passed out again. He left me alone, other than his initial pawing at me and being mashed against me the rest of the night.
After reading more about the type of brain bleed I had and gauging my condition, it was serious. I had about a 20% chance of survival. Jill believes that being vegan probably saved my life as my blood would clot more quickly (I eat a lot of greens, especially spinach and kale). I honestly didn’t realize how serious my condition was until nearly a year later, when Jill read the ER records that I had managed to get. While I’ve never had any other doctor actively revisit the ER notes or images, it’s clear I suffered a traumatic brain injury that very likely involved bleeding and subsequent clotting. Having zero history or genetic predisposition of high blood pressure, drug addiction, or any type of blood/circulation problems, it’s clear this was caused by an injury.
It’s easy to underestimate the severity of one’s condition when one spends most of the time unconscious. We were in the ER for eleven hours. My memory keeps telling me it was about three, at most.
In case anyone is wondering, neither of us are afraid of flying. Both of us hate landing.
The exchange between Captain Reynolds and Wash at 1:32 is great.
The next morning it was obvious the beach trip was canceled. Pig had to fly the plane back to Houston (less than twelve hours after having his wee-hours-of-the-morning “toddy,” which violates FAA rules about flying sober) and I was terrified of being forced onto it. He wanted me to go to Houston so I could be near him. The only thing I wanted was to get as far away from him as I could. I was still mostly incoherent and couldn’t stand or walk without help but Jill helped me. She wanted to get me out of there too. After lots of arguing between him and Jill, we agreed that she would drive me to Dallas. At the time, I didn’t know how badly she was injured — she hid it from me in her effort to save me.
She drove back to Dallas in the rented SUV, stopping overnight in Houston (Pig booked and paid for the hotel). The trip was very hard on her. She called the border patrol agent at a checkpoint “ma’am” and he didn’t appreciate it. Later I woke up and yelled at her to turn off the damn radio because I was trying to sleep. She mimed turning the knob since it was already off, and I went back to sleep, satisfied. We nearly got lynched at a highway rest stop when Jill helped me to the bathroom and a group of rednecks at a picnic table thought we were lesbians because I was draped over her, taking stumbling, shaky steps. We were saved because Jill sat me on a bench to go get the SUV and I nearly wobbled myself off it â€“ I couldn’t sit up without assistance.
Shortly before reaching Houston, I was awake and coherent enough to sit up front and she filled me in on everything I had missed. That’s when I found out that Pig would have left me on the floor to die if Jill hadn’t been there and about him faking having medical POA. Jill hadn’t realized he faked POA until we talked and I looked through the pile of paper I had from the hospital. As a lawyer, he cannot claim ignorance of the law for his actions.
He was texting me constantly, trying to get me to release my entire medical history to him (he tried to get this at the hospital too, which wasn’t happening since they weren’t there to be his fulfill his fantasies). I shut him down, but not without having to put up with him throwing a temper tantrum. Texting was difficult and made me nauseated to have to concentrate on remembering how to spell, I was barely literate. But it was better than having to talk to him. Keeping track of a conversation was difficult enough with Jill. Often, we would simply fade away into silence, completely forgetting that we had been talking or what had just been said.
Traumatic brain injuries are fun! It’s like extreme dementia but while you still have a young enough body to make people think you’re just on drugs or completely shitfaced.
Below are the few Pig texts I have saved from that day. Who knows what he was really planning? Clearly he wanted me in Houston, dependent on him and his doctors for my recovery, possibly the rest of my life.
Pig 6/17/12 3:05pm
Did not mean to upset you with suggestion. I was trying to run expense thru business to maximize tax benefits and avoid extra hassles with dr ie they will not bill me and you have to pay first. Anticipating a problem, I was looking for a solution. No offense intended, sorry you felt it was an intrusion.
Me 6/17/12 3:09pm
It is a major thing and not worth it just for a tax break. It is massively intrusive. I know you will pay for the bills. They may offer a discount for cash payments.
Pig 6/17/12 3:16pm
it’s not just tax break but you can figure it out. The doctors I use only see patients thru referrals. So if the docs tell you their practice is closed, let me know and I will send you a general list.
Pig 6/17/12 3:41pm
to provide further comfort, I will not inquire about your condition and let you determine need to know status. Be happy and get well. [He immediately makes a liar out of himself by inquiring about my condition from both Jill and me multiple times a day, every day after this, throwing tantrums if he is ignored or if the answer isn’t detailed enough to suit him.]
Me 6/17/12 3:43pm
no need to get hurt over me simply drawing a very sensible boundary. [He was still a client, after all, and the one who had put me in the hospital. I owe him nothing.]
Once in Dallas, Jill stayed with me and we spent the time in hotels until the first week of August when I move into my new rental, which I’d already viewed in May. I wasn’t living in Dallas at the time and we needed to be there to be close to hospitals and doctors. She was in terrible shape too. But she made the decision that I stood a better chance of recovery than she did. It was survival and I was the healthier of the two of us. All efforts were made to help me, even at the expense of her own health. Her brain edema was terrible and permanently affected her, but it was far from her first concussion, nor even her first serious one â€“ which is why she made the decision she did. Her brain injury is as permanent as mine, but I got the added bonus of a severe neck injury and a damaged pituitary gland.
Not that it did much good. I went through a university medical system, was diagnosed with serious head and neck injuries, and yet the doctors I saw did nothing. I paid out of pocket and it cost lots of money that I will never recoup.
I took testing to try and get into a cognitive therapy/rehab program. The doctor immediately disliked me and though the test results proved I had a TBI (traumatic brain injury), she decided that I was faking it all for the lawsuit we had filed against Pig (more on that shortly). We also strongly suspect her of talking to Pig without my permission. Many months later I complained to her governing board but nothing was done since I lacked “evidence” despite the obvious personal bias she exhibited in her report on me.
Ultimately, after the cognitive test results, the main doctor I had been seeing for four months diagnosed me as having a “mood disorder” even though he had my ER records, my post-concussion diagnosis from his own hospital, images of my neck trauma from his own hospital, and we discussed my being in a plane that dead-dropped 40 feet onto the tarmac with every visit. He seemed completely mystified that I hadn’t shown any improvement despite receiving zero treatment. Brilliant diagnosis.
It wasn’t until Jill went home in August and saw her own doctors that she found out she was suffering from a brain edema, as well as a severe concussion (she knew about the concussion). There was little to be done but her symptoms were treated as much as possible and she had marginal improvement once she was given Amitriptyline.
We had gone to an ER in Dallas that summer when her symptoms were very bad. After testing her for every single drug known to man because they thought she was a drug addict who decided to go to a hospital instead of finding a dealer (she was clean since she doesn’t use drugs), they ran a CT, saw her brain bruise and felt her right ear which had been draining clear fluid since the plane crash. They diagnosed her as having a head injury. In her discharge papers, they give her a list of symptoms to look for and to come back for treatment if she exhibits any â€“ all of which she was currently exhibiting during the ER visit and was the reason she was there in the first place. American medicine is great, isn’t it?
Brain edemas often won’t show up on a CT and require an MRI to diagnose. Though any halfway competent doctor could have seen that Jill had every symptom of an edema, the fluid drainage is a classic one.
In January 2013, Jill came to Dallas and helped me find new doctors who treated my symptoms and injuries and I had improvement. We both know that I lost a lot of ground those crucial first six months that I’ll never recover. A traumatic brain injury changes a person and I have obvious cognitive limits. My intelligence and creativity were the one thing about myself that I took pride in. My creativity is gone and my intelligence has had a noticeable chunk taken out of it. The best I will ever be was June 12, 2012.
My mental abilities will decline with every year. Basic functions of my body have dramatically changed due to the damage to my pituitary gland. (Pituitary damage from shockwave concussions aren’t unusual.) The left side of my body is weaker and far more unbalanced than my right. I know I used to be different than I am, but I’m starting to forget exactly how I was different â€“ often there is only a vague, frustrating sense of something not being right, but there is no way to make it right. Or I have the feeling of “I used to know how to do this” but I cannot figure out how to do it now. I often get stymied by very simple things. My short-term memory is poor, my vocabulary and writing ability crippled. My photographic memory is gone and my ability to learn is almost gone because I am a visual learner â€“ yet I can no longer mentally produce or remember images. A lot of circuits in my head are broken forever.
Jill sacrificed herself for my sake and I can never forget it. No one else was stepping forward to actively help me, even doctors could have cared less. Certainly no one sacrificed for me. What I have recovered â€“ and it’s far more than I despaired I would in those first horrible months â€“ I recovered thanks to her.
doing it for the money
I saw Pig twice more. The first time was exactly a week after being in the ER. He came to Dallas. He wanted to me to wear my “finery” so I had to get my fancy clothes (the round-trip was ruinous to both of us even though Jill drove) and totter around on Jimmy Choo platforms for an evening.
Pig 6/19/12 1:32pm
Great. For dinner, you want to dress in your finery?
I had to get my hair done, which was hell even though the stylist was very nice and as accommodating as possible to my pain and whiplash (I said I was in a car accident). Jill stayed in the hot car during my hair appointment, furious I was having to go through this when I needed to be in bed resting (rest and non-stimulation is the only real treatment for a brain injury during the acute phase). She said Pig had emailed her, telling her he knew that dressing up and going out would “cheer me up.” My problem was not that I needed “cheer.”
Jill drove me to Pig’s hotel and hated every second, she wanted to kill him. (I was unable to drive â€“ it was beyond my mental capacity at that time.) She did not want to leave me there with him and felt that she was doing me wrong by playing courier. She had her phone on and we had a system of emergency codes worked out (written on paper for both of us since neither one of us were able to remember anything). Neither one of us trusted Pig to call 911 if something happened to me, so I would text her with the appropriate emergency code in the event of an emergency. She had all the needed info ready to go, including our room number, which I gave her as soon as I had it.
Pig had a room on the 8th floor even though I had requested as close to the ground as possible. After making it through dinner, nauseated and in pain from going up and down the elevator, I get undressed and get into bed, exhausted. He comes out of the bathroom in black compression shorts (a short, overweight, very white, 70yr old man man who looks a lot like this guy and yes, I cheered with furious glee when that old guy was beheaded), which at the time only confuses me as to why he was wearing them to bed. Upon reflection, I think it was his way of dressing sexy. (Every woman who hears this part of the story reacts with disbelief and absolute repulsion. For once, being brain-damaged helped me as the true impact of the moment just passed me by.)
[pullquote]All hotels, regardless of their star-rating, serve the exact same lumpy oatmeal.[/pullquote]
He then spends the next 90 minutes talking to me before I finally give up and pass out. I know he wants to have sex, but since he isn’t actively doing anything about it, I don’t initiate. I don’t want to have sex, I want to sleep. I’m in pain, I’m sick, I’m exhausted, I don’t want to be here. I don’t want him touching me, I don’t want him near me. I hate him. But I know the deal: fuck him or he stops paying my medical bills as he has promised to do and is already doing, even though right now there isn’t yet much to pay.
And so in the morning I do. I have only a vague memory of this, mostly a struggle to keep my lumpy hotel oatmeal down. My clearest memory begins with Jill arriving early to pick me up (thank you again, Jill). I get out of there as fast as possible, Pig trailing behind.
Pig raped me. It took me a while to realize this but eventually I did — it’s why I felt the way I did. I had sex under duress, which is rape. I had sex when I was mentally incapacitated to the point where I couldn’t drive, which is rape. I had sex when I was physically incapable of living independently, which is rape. Verbally and emotionally forcing someone to have sex with you in order that their medical needs might be met is rape. I had sex a week after nearly losing my life because of injuries sustained by the man who was insisting I have sex with him, which is rape.
Back at our hotel, I see grass in Jill’s hair and some sort of white, paint-like flakes stuck to her cheek. We finally deduce that she passed out near the entrance to the hotel on her way to pick me up. The white flakes are from the newly-painted curb, the grass from the little patch of greenery by the door. This is bad, as she undoubtedly re-concussed herself when she fell. We are both disheartened about her passing out. This would not have happened if she didn’t need to come get me from Pig. She needed to be in bed resting as much as I.
I take a steaming hot anti-Pig shower, Jill helping me to make sure I won’t fall. The TBI has destroyed my balance and it remains poor, though I can now shower on my own, usually by balancing an elbow against the wall or leaning against it entirely if I’m really having problems.
I hate Pig for forcing me into having sex with him, I haven’t even had sex with my boyfriend yet, I’m still too hurt to want sex or safely be capable of it. Pig is not a forcible rapist, not by any measure. But he likes his coercive situations, it’s where he gets his jollies, where he feels powerful. He’s sickening.
Jill knew how I felt about Pig. I woke both of us every night screaming from nightmares of being trapped. There’s more going on than I’m writing about — Pig was doing his level best to put his lasso around my neck. He had the power to do it and he knew it, the system was on his side. He likes to call himself a “racehorse” and I always respond that I’m a wild horse. I don’t do lassos, fences, or ownership. Injured and helpless, I was terrified of being lost to Pig. If Jill hadn’t been there for me, I probably would have been.
He booked me for another overnight two weeks later, July 6 (Jill and I prepare a set of emergency codes again). This was the last time I’ve seen him and the last time we had sex. Again, I did not want to. His touch made my skin crawl. I hate him, he is repulsive. But I had to make money, I had to be a safety net for Jill as much as I could — I had a responsibility to her for what she was sacrificing for me. I had to get my medical bills paid as long as possible. I had to do what I could to secure my future because it had just disappeared.
At some point in the darkness, he said it was the best sex of his life. I didn’t know if he was making some sort of gruesome/sarcastic joke or being serious. Either way, my gorge rose, sickened at what was happening, hating him so much I came within a single arm movement of slamming the heel of my hand into the bottom of his nose. Was I really ready to sell my soul to this person whose sole redeeming quality was his money? No, I would find another way to survive. I’d already gotten what he owed me (except for Jill’s and my ongoing medical bills). I would find a way to uphold my responsibility to Jill without having to sell myself to Pig.
No other client, no matter how much I might’ve disliked him, has ever created the compulsion for a psychic cleanse. Only Pig has that distinction. (Because he raped me.) [/pullquote]
The need for a psychic cleanse was so strong that I spent money I didn’t need to spend to repeat that exact evening a week later with my boyfriend. He was delighted with the special surprise and we had a wonderful time. The taint of Pig was washed away that night by someone who cared for me. Jill spent that night in our hotel sleeping deeply, her phone off, knowing I was safe and happy for that one night.
A little over a week after this I wrote a sharp email to Pig telling him to back off. (It was my last direct contact with him for almost two years). He wanted far more access to my life than I wanted him to have. He was paying my medical bills and dancing around the fact that he caused all this. He wasn’t paying Jill as he had promised, even though he supposedly had hired her to take care of me. I was barely literate and having to deal with his constant need for contact was more than I could handle. Writing a single email took an exhausting 1-3 hours and would still be riddled with word salad (I still toss word salad when I get fatigued, verbal as well as written). Jill took the brunt of it for me, talking to him on the phone, emailing and texting him too. I kept telling her not to, but she was trying to spare me of having to deal with him. I had briefed her on both of the overnights and she hated him possibly more than I did.
He fired back a nasty response and cut all ties to me. Honestly, his response made me laugh and him cutting ties was the desired result. I had all that I was going to get from him. I had a cushion of savings to live on while I healed. I hoped I would be okay. My biggest expense was medical bills and eventually, they ate my savings.
In one of his emailed tantrums he sent me a thinly-veiled death threat that also included my mother (I forwarded the email to her). Jill suggested I get a restraining order against him. I tried, but as soon as the county social worker heard that I was an escort, she shut down. She didn’t care. She asked if he had beaten me and I said no, because he hadn’t. He had only permanently injured me through his complete stupidity, was willing to have let me die on the floor, and was more than willing to force me to have sex with him. But a beating? No, so none of this counted. (Those of who you think women have all sorts of “resources” to protect themselves from men can fuck off. I’ve seen again and again â€“ we don’t.)
Still, I created an autoresponse just for his email addresses telling him that if he contacts me again, I’ll get a restraining order against him. It stops him from contacting me. Though it has the unfortunate effect of focusing his attention on Jill, it proves that a) I could get a restraining order against him though I’d probably have to pay for a lawyer to get it done, b) he fears a restraining order, and most importantly…c) he knows he’s breaking the law.
Jill and I look into hiring a personal injury attorney for the plane crash and hire one, whom I’ll refer to as J. He seems promising. But in the end, he betrays us as well.
In late July, when Pig was scheduled to go on an Alaska cruise, Jill began getting weird voice mails and texts to her work phone number (which Pig knew). She traced several of them, including one who was this old Shriner from Myrtle Beach, SC telling Jill to go jump off a cliff. She traced another to a bar in Port Angeles, WA, presumably where the cruise ship docked. Sure, it sounds laughable, but these random people calling were clearly doing this on Pig’s behalf. What was the point? It’s no secret that Pig and Jill disliked each other on first sight. Was it about the lawsuit? None of the messages had a clear point, other than absolute hatred of Jill and a wish for her death.
Since Pig is a pathological liar, we knew he was spinning some dramatic story of woe in which he was the victim, we just had no idea what it was (and still don’t). We assume he wasn’t telling anyone that they were harassing two brain-damaged hookers — that would put Pig in a bad light and he wouldn’t do that to himself.
The death threats continued over the next several months, interspersed with some polite but insistently repeated offers for all of us to meet for dinner at a Dallas restaurant owned by a man reputed to have organized crime connections. It was unclear what game was being played or what the messages of hate directed at Jill were really about. It got tedious after a while. Our attorney said nothing about any of this even though Jill let him know of every incident, even though it was clear Pig was harassing us via proxy — which I thought should have been an issue in the context of a lawsuit.
We assume Pig found some of these idiots due to being a criminal defense attorney. Jill tracked several of them via Facebook. They were all vague and confused messages of hatred, sent by trashy morons. Was he actually paying them? If anyone reading this likes threatening strangers over the phone for money, have I got the employer for you!
the doubletree hotel attack
Jill came to visit me in January 2013 and help me find new doctors. The emailed threats suddenly escalated to describing gruesome violence, along with personal details of both of us. We were being tailed around town by a guy who lived near me; ironically, he taught self-defense classes for women and wore his black satin dojo jacket everywhere. (One of new the threatening emails included her coffee order â€“ easy for the Karate Guy to know since he was sitting across from us at the neighborhood Starbucks.) We debated going to the police but there wasn’t really anything the police would do. Besides, they were more likely to arrest us than Pig. Pigs stick together.
Then one day she went to work. She took my car to the hotel she had booked. I couldn’t go with her as lobby-security because I had to deal with a heating problem in my place. At the hotel, her senses tingled. Trying to find a place to park, she was blocked by a truck and the male driver asked her for directions. She felt she was being observed in the parking lot by a woman and a man. The bellboy kept trying to take her carry-on-sized bag from her and wouldn’t take “no” for an answer (this is not a hotel renowned for bellhop service). Everything felt wrong as soon as she walked into the hotel. In the lobby she saw two men, one whom really attracted her attention. Both were looking at her as if they knew her, which is what drew her attention. She knew they were paying attention to her but it wasn’t as though they were checking her out.
But she went ahead, checked in, and went to her room. We think the goon rode up in the elevator with her, we’re not sure because she wasn’t at her best and her attention was now distracted. All she knows is that she gets to her room and suddenly a man is behind her, shoving her into the room and beating her head with a loaded gun. He threatens her with the gun. “Forget what you’ve read. Don’t believe everything you see.” With this cryptic statement, he punches her in the face and anally rapes her, promising it was a lesson she’d never forget (several concussions later she mostly has â€“ sorry goon, you weren’t that memorable). He threatens to shoot her, but a platoon of college cheerleaders running up and down the hall distracts him and he leaves.
It’s quick, about three minutes, she tells me when we later talk.
She has two back-to-back clients coming right after the attack so she sees them, then calls me. She’s afraid to tell me what happened, afraid I’ll blame her and be mad at her for some reason. I’m horrified and demand she drive back to my place as fast as she safely can, to cancel work. She gets there and I examine her head. It looks like someone stuck ping-pong balls under her scalp and the left side of her face is bruising. I have an ice pack for her.
She tells me what happened. She describes the man in the lobby, who is a longtime client of Pig’s, a Lebanese man named Bashar. I know this because I’ve had dinner with him twice. Pig assists Bashar in his various businesses and apparently Bashar was returning a favor. Or perhaps it was a trade of services as we both know the goons were on Bashar’s payroll and I strongly suspect him of having organized crime connections because of what Pig does for him. The whole situation was very different in tone than the random low-lifes Pig had paid to make threatening phone calls and emails to Jill. These men were professionals. Regardless, Pig and Bashar conspired together to assault Jill with a deadly weapon, threatened her life and probably would have killed her. These are felonies, FYI.
Jill did not want to go the police, and though I still have misgivings about it as I would’ve liked to have gotten the hotel security footage, I supported her decision. She would have been arrested, we’re both sure of that.
The attack happened on Friday January 4, 2013. Saturday Pig flew to Addison Airport. We never saw him, we know this because his flight showed up on FlightAware. I took her to a small hospital on Saturday, where she was diagnosed with a concussion and brain bruise.
When we told J about the attack, he berated Jill for not going to the police. He took no action and didn’t seem to think it was that serious an offense on Pig’s part, nor did he feel it was connected to the case. In hindsight, perhaps he already knew it wasn’t.
the goon on the plane and revelation
A few days after this, she is ready to leave. The night before her flight, she receives an email telling her she will be shot as she comes out of the terminal in Raleigh. They have her flight number and seat number. We don’t know what to do. We sit on my bed, quiet. What does one say when one’s friend is about to be killed and neither one of you can stop it?
Fortunately, instead of shooting Jill, Pig spends $8000 on a last-minute ticket to put a goon on the plane. The goon changes seats to be near her so Jill has no idea what his original seat is. He spends the 2.5 hour flight to Charlotte explaining to Jill that Pig loves his wife, doesn’t love me anymore, Pig is breaking up with me and Jill needs to break the news to me easily so that I won’t be crushed. Pig will hurt her if he finds out that she hurt my feelings when telling me that he is dumping me. Jill actually makes the goon repeat the crux of the message because she could not believe what her ears told her.
The explanation of Pig’s actions is probably the most bizarre moment of this entire saga; it’s easily the funniest. She was suffering severe pneumonia and made sure to sneeze all over the goon the entire plane trip and cough in his face. She also wiped her snot on his sleeve. I don’t know what Pig paid him to deliver the message, but Jill happily reported the expression on his face said that it wasn’t enough. She said the hardest part of the trip was not laughing when the man explained to her the point of all this.
After she gets the point of the message, the goon makes her delete all of Pig’s emails and info on her iPad, not realizing she’s already backed this up a number of times and I have copies of the backups as well. Apparently Pig sees these emails as “evidence” though of what, I’m not sure. The bigger evidence is the injuries we’ve suffered due to his stupidity in the pilot’s seat, on the way to a private vacation in which he was paying for sex, but let’s never mind all that.
She gets off the plane on her short layover and texts me. I’m in bed with a cold. She tells me I’d better be sitting down and that I can’t guess what she’s about to say, but she’s safe.
As soon as she gets into a quiet corner, she calls and tells me. I laugh so hard I’m choking and almost fall off the bed trying to breathe. Tears are streaming down my face into my ears as I cackle like a hyena. I laugh so hard that my diaphragm is sore after.
This is why they almost killed Jill?
It’s so abysmally stupid. We both assumed the harassment and attack had to do with retaining J to sue Pig for our injuries. Never in our wildest conjectures had we imagined that Pig worried about Jill “witnessing” the “love” he and I had “shared.” What were either of us going to do with any of his declarations of love to me? Neither one of us ever believed there was some grand love affair going on because…there wasn’t. He’s a client. He’s married. He’s twice my age. He permanently injured both of us. He was perfectly willing to fuck me and let me die on the floor. He raped me twice. We hate him. We were putting in a lot of effort to avoid him, while he was the one making a lot of effort to get in contact with us.
She gets on her plane to Raleigh and makes it safely home. More or less, things go quiet, though she has two burglary attempts at her apartment and a gold SUV keeps following her around. I have someone rattling my front door one morning in June but that’s it, as far as I can tell, on my end.
During her April 2013 visit she worked a couple of days and I sat in the hotel lobby as security. There was a possible goon in the lobby keeping tabs on me keeping tabs on him. It was sort of comical. At least her clients were okay. I spotted each of them as they walked in and would quickly text her. My gift at client-spotting was useful! We also got followed a little bit by Karate Guy in his black satin jacket.
the security conference
In February 2013, we go to another city far away to hold a security conference. Only we attend, but it’s a weekend of pooling information, testing theories, making plans, and laying groundwork. The attack made it clear that we’re both in danger from Pig, even if he thinks he’s successfully dumped me. We set action-dates for various things. Hiding is the best choice for us, the one women have chosen for centuries when dealing with a violent man.
So we do. I am hiding still. I can count on one hand the people who know where I am and Pig has worked hard to kill the one most easily-accessible to him. My family doesn’t know — I will not endanger them by telling them or even leaving hints.
Not that my mother cares. After the February security conference I tell her about the danger we are all in because I felt my family should be warned, I was scared for them. Her reaction was to accuse me of lying about everything, engaging in drug trafficking with Pig, and that I’m greedy for pursuing legal action against him. (My mother never commented on whether or not she felt Jill was being greedy for pursuing legal action against Pig.) While I accuse him of many things, drug trafficking is not one of them.
I no longer speak to her. She turned her face away from me for being honest, telling the truth, giving her a warning, and asking for advice and a small amount of help (not monetary help). I did nothing terrible to her, nothing to warrant her reaction. I certainly did not lie to her, but my word is clearly worthless in her eyes.
I’m fairly certain the real issue is that she feels I’m getting what I deserve for being a sex worker.
don’t leave the foxhole
Jill had to visit Raleigh in the fall of 2013 and was tailed almost continuously by the gold SUV. She got a few weird phone calls.
In February of 2014, we had a serious falling out. It started with my complaint on how she had handled a non-Pig-related situation, but Jill contributed to the disagreement in full measure. Unfortunately, she made the decision to move back to Raleigh in March. She knew as she was flying there that it was the wrong decision and I wish she had told me — I would have worked with her on finding another solution to keep her safe, no matter how mad I was with her. She stayed silent and punished herself. I got to watch my friend dying from long distance, able to do nothing to stop it.
On Monday, April 7, she is attacked by two goons in her apartment complex parking lot. She describes the two goons as white with shaved heads and brownish goatees, late 20s to mid 30s, one around 5’9″ the other around 6’1″, both around 250lbs. One had a semper fi tattoo on his left forearm. One was clearly Southern, the other had a NYC accent. She says they look like “any of 100k other shaved head white guys.”
From her email to me:
They grabbed my arms and pulled me into the woods and told me they wanted the location of [Amanda Brooks] and I could give it to them or they could take it from me. The one with the NY accent told me to make it simple and tell them where she was. I told them that I didn’t know where she was. Again the NY guy demanded punching me in the face telling me that I knew where my best friend was or I could call her and ask. I told him to fuck off and that I wasn’t giving anyone any info about her and shoved him trying to get past him and run. He caught me by the hair, knocked me down and dragged me deep into the woods.
The NY guy violently shook my head while the southern guy said let’s turn her brains into scrambled eggs. They discussed that it would be easy since they already were. The southern guy asked me again. Where is [Amanda Brooks]? I didn’t say anything and tried to pull free and run. I got a barrage of punches to the stomach, the back, the head and fell into a rock which knocked me out briefly. The NY guy pulled me up by the hair and shook me violently saying it wouldn’t stop until I told them where [Amanda] was. I don’t remember who held my neck and who kept slapping me in the face, one said I was fun because I had an attitude. They shook me violently again, everything felt like a kaleidoscope and I kept vomiting which stopped the assault. The southern guy said they didn’t want to hurt me. That someone simply wants to rekindle a love with [Amanda], or some variation of that, it was explained more than once as a man who simply wants to show the love he once shared with [Amanda] and that they weren’t going to hurt her, they just needed her address. The southern guy said to the NY guy to hold me down and said “the bitch looks hot and that he was rock fucking hard” and said something to the effect of let’s “take a break and have some fun and get back to work in a few” He shoved me on my back lifted my dress put his knees in between my thighs and started to undress when a neighbor came out and told them to get away from me in Spanish. They both said fuck or something like that and ran toward the parking lot and I believe drove away. I did not get a make or model of the car or a direction that they went other than the parking lot. I rolled over and threw up again, the neighbor talked with me and advised he would take me to the hospital and took me to Rex Hospital where I was diagnosed with a concussion. I did not discuss the sexual assault because I did not want to start the process of a sexual assault investigation because I was not raped.
A police report is filed and nothing happens. We’re both thankful her neighbor was paying attention.
Their message that Pig wanted to “rekindle” the “love” that we “shared” is insane. All women agree that romantic overtures are most persuasive when they’re accompanied by the beating and attempted rape of a female friend. It certainly raised my blood temperature! After talking it over with Jill, I write him an email, inviting him to meet me for a lunch in Dallas, with certain stipulations for my safety attached. One stipulation is that it’s just lunch in public, conversation only. Another is to not bother Jill anymore.
Understand that anything I do concerning Pig is passed through Jill first, I will not further endanger her by taking any action she is not fully aware of. She and I bounced the emails before I sent them to Pig. We plan other courses of action, if necessary. She is in the most immediate danger and my actions are an attempt to protect her.
I give him some dates for our possible meeting. One of those time-frames falls in late April, when I really will be in Dallas to take care of some things. As far as Jill and I can deduce, Pig pays for a goon from Phoenix to fly out to Dallas at the end of April to deal with me. The goon is stupid enough to Tweet about his trip. My guess is after this post, he’ll be much more covert and not Tweet where he’s going and what he’s planning to do when he gets there.
While dealing with the concussion and torn neck muscle from that beating, one of two the goons approach her in the parking lot of her apartment two days later, verbally attempting to get across the idea that we owe Pig some respect. Due to her concussion, Jill has only the vaguest memory of that incident and I get few details from her.
On Saturday, April 12, the two goons in the SUV were in her apartment complex. She got a partial plate, North Carolina, first three letters CCA. She was instructed to tell me that “both of us need to learn about being appropriate in our responses.” Like Pig’s response to us is somehow appropriate? In what alternate universe?
Later that evening, Jill is attacked at a Golden Corral. A new goon sneaks up behind her, hitting her face and knocking her unconscious to the ground. He kicks her in the stomach to turn her over, wakes her up, and delivers another message of how we owe respect to Pig, and “Be advised that this is classic hawk and sparrow”, then mashes his shoe on her face. (For the record, neither of us owe Pig a single goddamn thing, most especially respect. He owes us.) Neither of us have any idea what the hawk and sparrow reference means, nor does Google, nor anyone else we ask. Pig spends tons of money on goons, but can’t be bothered to send a clear and direct message.
She drives herself to the ER. Another police report is filed, a rape kit is taken even though she explains she wasn’t raped, she is diagnosed with a small, surface brain bleed, then they send her home.
Clearly, Pig didn’t like my stipulations for meeting. So I try another tactic, being a lot nicer and less terse (no numbered list this time), and adding in a bunch of escort-y bullshit. Still, he fails to understand he’s not someone I trust in any meaning of the word and that I never have had, nor will ever have, any respect whatsoever for him. All that email got was a note stuck on Jill’s door.
Jill’s email to me:
Sent: Sunday, April 20, 2014 at 7:59 AM
We have door to door thugs. Attached to my door is a message that says the following
“All that is needed is a location otherwise I’ll come to you. You need not continue to email”
Fine, I won’t email him anymore and Jill isn’t giving up my location. That should solve his personal quandary, it certainly solves ours.
Finally, the police detective assigned to her case (both attacks) talks to her on Monday, April 14. He’s so very, very sympathetic. From her email about it:
I failed as a victim so he can’t do much. I needed to catch one of the two guys and detain them in order to go ahead. He also chastised me that I didn’t dig into the guys skin to get DNA samples. He was very condescending and advised me that most girls put up enough of a fight to give the forensics people something to work with or I should have held the guy. Essentially he called [me] a coward. Not directly but in so many words. I wasn’t brave like most women and didn’t think to help the police. I took a savage beating but didn’t respond correctly. I just tried to protect my face and crawl or run away. He actually said to me “that he didn’t know what I was thinking in terms of being compliant with my attackers.”
She says the detective might want to talk to me and I give a number but I never get a call. There is no follow-up to her two violent attacks and the detective clearly doesn’t want to do any detecting. As far as we can tell, the police reports disappear, Jill isn’t allowed to get copies of them, nor can any of her doctors get copies. Funny how that happens when a rich, old, white man is involved. There can’t possibly be anything remotely illegal about hiring men to beat and sexually assault a woman across state lines, can there? Apparently not, and apparently the Raleigh PD have more important things to do than investigate violent felonies.
The Raleigh PD is very interested in chasing hookers. Jill spent a year getting followed, harassed, and sexually assaulted by an officer who finally left her alone only because he got busted for soliciting underage prostitutes.
a few words on trust, respect, and gratitude â€“ concepts beyond pig’s comprehension
When I first met him, he constantly tried to convince me to “trust” him. Finally, like an idiot, I thought I would take the chance on trusting him. Naively, I thought that being a well-known lawyer meant he would behave in a trustworthy manner. No, in real life, it just means he knows exactly how much he can get away with â€“ and it’s a hell of a lot.
After the plane crash, Pig often harangued both of us that we should give him our respect, trust, and gratitude at a wholesale level and without question. Never mind these are states of being one earns from another and he did nothing to earn them from us. As this history shows, he chose to trash any chance of honestly earning them.
He expected enormous amounts of gratitude from me for simply doing what he was supposed to do. Not once did he ever truly go above and beyond mere obligation. Anything he tried to dress up as a grand gesture â€“ like have me stay in Houston to see his doctors â€“ was only a self-serving trap. Even though Jill and I routinely debased ourselves and thanked him profusely for any small gesture, that was never enough. This desperate demand for praise and gratitude is very revealing. On an emotional level, we were dealing with a 4yr old who has serious Mommy-abandonment issues and who also expected lavish praise from Mommy simply for going potty in the toilet instead of in his pants or on the floor.
He demanded 100% trust and compliance from Jill or else he would hurt me. He told her he’d put up with me “questioning his authority,” but not her. He told her that he wanted sex and if he wasn’t getting it from me he’d get it from her. She told him “do what you have to do.” (He never had sex with her.) I didn’t know about this until well after it happened and we’d hired J.
Somewhere deep down in Pig’s tangled psyche, he must recognize he isn’t worthy of these gifts. He knows he hadn’t truly earned them from us â€“ which is why he always felt the lack. He is not respectable, completely untrustworthy, and has done nothing to warrant gratitude. He took our lives from us, he didn’t give us anything besides misery. No one offers gratitude for that.
As a woman in this society, there is always pressure to “trust” men for reasons that are never made clear; men are so rarely trustworthy. Women intuitively know that trust must be earned and not forced. Men simply demand it from women. If a woman withholds her trust, then she’s a bitch, she’s cold, she has mental problems, etc. Men are always suspicious of a woman who holds herself in reserve â€“ there’s something wrong with her for not giving into his demands and not him for trying to force something that can only be given.
I did give Pig my trust before the plane crash and look what he’s done with that gift. When I’ve told people this story at various points along the way, they’ve had the gall to ask “Well, why did you trust him? What did you expect?” (Never in my wildest imagination did I expect all this. Who would?) All this is somehow my fault for trusting him, not his fault for doing what he’s done. But if I hadn’t trusted him and all this happened, it would be my fault for not trusting him and therefore bringing it on myself by grievously hurting his precious feelings with my lack of trust, therefore justifying his violence. Being a woman means living your entire life in a “Damned if you do, damned if you don’t” endless circle of victim-blaming.
The simple solution that offers me the most protection is: don’t trust anyone. If you have a problem with that, fuck off.
jill’s death sentence
A week after the last attack I talk to her on the phone. She’s having problems, pain and fainting. Fainting and falling is the bigger issue because she likely has re-concussed herself with her falls. Several minutes into the phone call and she doesn’t know who I am. It’s the first time I see how badly she’s injured and I cry while reassuring her who I am. I can’t help her in any meaningful way. She’s in too poor a condition to be put on a plane and she can’t drive so there is no going elsewhere to hide. If I could mount Pig’s head on a pike at the city limits of Raleigh for Jill’s sake, I would.
A week later she goes to the ER for extreme pain, mostly in her back, and limited mobility from the pain. She tells me about a bruise on her stomach that I thought might be internal bleeding. Instead, the psychologist at Wake Med reads her entire medical file and decides, apropos of nothing, that she has just gotten out of rehab and can’t be prescribed any pain medication other than Tylenol. He also questions her extensively on her propensity for lighting fires — a complete non-issue in her life â€“ he obviously was incapable of correctly administering the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory. Then the doctors discover she has a blood clot in her thigh: the exact spot where the first goon ground his knee into her thigh while attempting to rape her. Wake Med combats the DVT by putting a bag of saline into her every three hours, causing her extreme pain and a weight gain of 38lbs while she’s there.
After escaping Wake Med in worse condition than she entered, she goes to her regular doctors. First, her back pain is addressed. She has a Greenfield filter in her vena cava, improperly installed about six inches below where it should be. The goon who kicked her in the stomach broke off a piece of the titanium filter and it lodged in her spine, hence, the pain. She was to have had the filter taken out a couple years ago, but lacked the money or insurance to have it done.
Much worse is the news that Wake Med delivers the coup de grace instead of Pig. Their gross medical malpractice floods her body with more fluid than she can handle: 56 liters of saline in three days. The pressure in her veins causes them to collapse and form clots from mid-torso down, the broken filter holding the massive clots in place. Half her body is one entire blood clot. Her vena cava is destroyed from the filter down.
There is no recovery when half your body’s veins are one big clot. Needless to say, her condition is fatal. But even though someone other than Wake Med discovered the problem, no surgeon would operate because she would certainly die on the table. Doctors avoid treating her, scared of a malpractice suit, and so instead contribute to her death by refusing to treat her.
One of her two regular doctors takes pity on her and treats her. She’s put on heavy blood thinners for the rest of her life. There are so many ways she could die: a clot gets past the broken filter and goes to her heart, lungs or brain; a spontaneous clot form in her heart, lungs, or brain; the massive clot becomes infected and she dies of sepsis; she falls due to low blood pressure (due to the blood thinners), whacks her head and dies of a brain bleed (due to blood thinners); she gets attacked by the goons again and dies of a brain bleed; she gets in a car accident because she faints (due to falling blood pressure) and dies of a brain bleed; her lungs fill with the excess fluid Wake Med left and she dies of pneumonia. There are more possibilities but these are the major and most likely ones. While no one wants to insure her, one could certainly take odds on her death in Vegas.
While she is dying due to blatant sexism under the guise of egregious medical malpractice, she would not have been in the hospital if it weren’t for Pig’s goons acting on his behalf. She would not give up my location under physical attack nor the imminent threat of death. That is heroism on the scale of fiction, it’s the sort of heroism normally attributed to men (who are wrongly considered the stronger sex). Both attacks contributed to her death: the first with the DVT in her leg â€“ which alone could have killed her; the second by destroying her Greenfield filter, leading her to seek treatment at Wake Med. Not to mention that she would have died if a third attack injured her head. She truly does not have a concussion left.
On the other hand, we both agree that trying to break someone who graduated from Bruce’s School of Submission is a laughably stupid exercise in futility.
In early June, she starts having small clots lodging in her lungs and heart. It’s unclear whether the clots spontaneously formed or made their way past the broken filter, the question is irrelevant to Jill. She has a mini-stroke in September. These clots eventually dissolve thanks to the blood thinners, but more clots form (or get past the filter). At some point, a large clot won’t dissolve and she’ll die of a PE (lungs), heart attack (heart), or stroke (brain).
The clock is ticking loudly.
pig’s sorry and that means so very, very much to us â€“ as you can imagine
On May 1 she sees the goons hanging around her apartment and she goes out to confront them. A neighbor has already called the police and they get there right around the time Jill finally staggers down the flight of stairs and over to where everyone is standing. She’s not allowed to take pictures of them. But she does get a picture of their truck.
The story they give is that they work for PSS Protection out of Charlotte, NC. They were hired by a man in Houston who feels that she is threatening him and involved with criminal elements. The cop looks at Jill, bloodless-white and swaying on her feet, and tells the goons she isn’t very threatening. But since they’re a “legal” security company, he can’t file a complaint for Jill. However, he does tell them to leave the premises since it is private property. No incident report was filed by the police as there was no evidence that a crime was committed.
For the record, the only “criminal elements” Jill knows are Pig and those involved with him. The only thing we have ever threatened Pig with is legal action through a lawyer. (On the other hand, at the time of the goon attacks, PSS Protection’s website promises swift resolution in legal matters. For most folks, getting beaten up and raped probably would bring about swift resolution.) We’ve never raised a hand against him, nor do we intend to.
She alerts her apartment complex and their legal department talks to PSS Protection’s legal department. The goons stay off the property (more or less) though PSS Protection’s legal department fights for their right to harass Jill on-property on Pig’s behalf and the two legal teams argue out of court. (They’re still arguing when Jill finally moves out in August 2014.)
But when she leaves the premises she is fair game. Goons follow her everywhere. I visit her in late May and we have a goon in a black Hyaundai Accent follow us once. After I go home, goons in two cars follow her with a friend on May 26. Her friend manages to ditch them. As they speed by, one yells out the window “You’re going to die, Jill!” We’re uncertain if that was an actual threat or if they’ve read her medical records.
On May 29, the constant tailing culminates in a high-speed chase with a teal green SUV on Interestates 40 and 540, ending at the airport (I’m unhappy about her getting involved in a stupid chase). But after this day, the goons go silent. Nothing happens, they seem to disappear. We guess that since the SUV entered the departure terminal circulation at 120mph, the police always stationed at airports just might have noticed the big, bright green vehicle and there might have been an incident. Hopefully no one was injured since they were heading to an area full of pedestrians. Jill ended up in another circulation lane and got out of the airport quickly without being noticed.
Though she’d made a 911 call during the chase, nothing was done about it. She did not get the license plate of the SUV.
Then in mid-July, she started being followed again, this time by a team in dark blue Honda. They didn’t do anything, just followed her sedately. Two days after she started getting followed again, she had knocking at her door. Like any woman who is the target of violence, she ignored it and watched out her window as two young men leave her steps and get into the blue Honda. They were different goons, but military in appearance, just like the others. (Since they’re blatantly hanging around the property, maybe they’re from a different “security” company?)
After running errands, she’s approached by a neighbor girl. The girl says that two creepy men paid her $10 to ask Jill if her friend had gotten a message. That would be me and the message would be a very confused email from Pig [below]. This is the first direct contact I’ve had with him since August 2012. I did not respond and had no intention of responding and possibly upsetting Pig while Jill’s life is at stake.
Date: Tue, 15 Jul 2014 19:16:02 -0700
Ever since you sent this email, I have been puzzled as to what you mean. First, you mentioned a response which I did not send! When I sent the last email regarding talking to you, it was in regard to something I read in your blog about Jill’s encounter and I wanted to let you know that the same person reached out to me.
Just as your role in my life changed, I have evolved as well.
If you care to know what I was talking about earlier this year, let me know. I am in a treatment center and my ability to respond to messages is limited to three times a day.
The email he refers to is the second I sent him April, the escort-y bullshit one which refers to the second goon attack on Jill at the Golden Corral and his obtuse “hawk and sparrow” reference. I understand he’s a lawyer trying to deny responsibility but since the goon was clearly carrying his message, it’s a waste of energy to deny. Like I said, this is a very confused email but it’s also typical Pig-speak â€“ only he knows what his point is, assuming there is one.
I doubt he’s at any treatment center that allows contact with the outside world. Why would he allow anything to limit his communication, especially if he needs to get in contact with his team of goons in a hurry? Nor is admitting to a problem Pig’s style. His style is to buy or lie his way out of everything. People don’t change, especially not people in their 70s, especially not when they’ve lived a life of power and privilege. Ultimately, we view this message as some sort of trap — a confused, senseless, sideways one at best.
The next day there was another note on the door. The goons paid the same girl another $10 to leave the note on Jill’s door. “He’s sorry” was the message. Jill calls to tell me and I’m so furious I pace, spitting curses and wishing very foul things to happen to Pig. Jill’s just as angry. The message is utterly meaningless and disrespectful to the point of being insulting. Above all, it’s infuriating. I’m ready for action but the timing is bad because Jill is not.
The next day Jill has heart surgery (it went very well, fortunately). The goons wander around her apartment complex, apparently confused since her car was there but she wasn’t. The day after she was able to talk to her neighbors and explain the goons were not just bothering her, but children as well. That did it. The goons showed up and a group of five men, including the father of the little girl, have a discussion with the two goons.
The goons tried to argue that they were protecting a man whom Jill was threatening. Once again, that defense is scoffed at. Jill is barely able to walk and it’s obvious she’s very sick. There is not a creature on the planet threatened by her, even wild birds won’t move out of her way. A man who feels threatened by her is not much of a man.
The goons left and did not come back until after Jill moved out in August. I’m so pleased Jill finally got some help when she needed it. (The goons apparently missed Jill moving out and were terribly upset to discover she couldn’t be found. They tried to break into her old apartment where one of the property managers now lives, and got into an altercation with the neighbors with the little girl. The neighbors moved shortly after, partly due to the goons.)
“I’ve come to burn your kingdom down”
[pullquote]They say, “Evil prevails when good men fail to act.” What they ought to say is, “Evil prevails.” Yuri Orlov, Lord of War[/pullquote]
Pig liked to pick a “theme song” for everything he did. So I found a theme song for my feelings about him, which dovetailed perfectly with my grand plan. I wanted his pilot’s license, his law license, his money and his marriage. I wanted to burn down the small kingdom of this despot, raze it to the ground, plow the earth under and sow the ground with salt. No prisoners would be taken.
Though tangled and not exactly how I wished it to happen as my wish was open-ended, what follows is proof in the power of positive thinking.
It started with our lawyer, J. He never seemed on top of our case, was very non-communicative the entire time and never answered questions about what he was doing for us. He complained that investigating the crash would cost too much and that we should go to the airport where it happened and question employees ourselves. He was unable to recommend doctors to me, he didn’t explain that I could have gotten a letter of protection so I wouldn’t have to pay all my bills out of pocket — Jill discovered this on another lawyer’s website. By that point, I was done with doctors. I needed surgery on my neck and approached a lawsuit-loan company in April 2013. They would review the case and make a decision. They turned me down because J hadn’t done his job and put together a case (which I found out months later). I still need surgery.
J kept saying that there wasn’t enough proof that the plane crash caused our injuries, that we could have been concurrently hurt that day in “3000 different ways.” He stated that since I’ve never had an MRI or CT done on my head or neck before the crash (due to not having had problems), then it was hard to prove the crash caused my issues, despite all the problems and medical documentation I’ve had since June 13, 2012. We wonder if he can’t win a simple injury case, what kind of lawyer is he?
When Asiana Airlines Flight #214 went down in July 2013, we both followed the news coverage with interest. A lot of the passengers suffered the same head and neck injuries we did. As J would’ve said, they could’ve gotten those injuries 3000 different ways. I don’t understand why their lawyers have failed to point out that fundamental truth to them, J never wasted an opportunity to let us know how inconclusive and insignificant our injuries were.
It’s become an inside joke, anytime someone is injured, well, it could’ve happened 3000 different ways! It’s a perspective-changing and fun game to play, try it anytime something really bad happens.
For instance, if J had been consulted on Malaysia Airlines flight #17, he no doubt would claim all the passengers could’ve died 3000 different ways. See how much fun this is? It’s certainly the most enduring thing J said to us.
Most of our calls with J were about him requesting us to send in our medical bills while explaining to us how we couldn’t prove our injuries resulted from Pig’s stupidity. Most of the time he spent defending Pig. In April 2013, we made appointments with six other lawyers in Dallas. Every one was positive during our interview, then would call the next day and say they had no interest in taking the case. Lawyers have blacklists too and we believe that Pig put our names on it. That, and Pig’s a lawyer himself. No one had the balls to take him on.
Not that it mattered, as it turned out. In late October 2013 we have one final conference call with J. He was supposed to have filed the lawsuit with Pig months earlier. He kept delaying and delaying. In the final call, we discover that he has gathered no evidence, done no investigation, and his only suggestion to win the case is for me to start having sex with Pig again, and tape record him into a confession without his knowledge, then use that recording to force an out of court settlement. It sounded like an illegal suggestion for a lawyer to make to their clients but I’m not a lawyer, so I don’t know. We formally dismiss J after this call and he promptly sends us a letter stating he is firing us as clients.
There are two possibilities. A) He is an extremely incompetent, pathetic lawyer, even though he can afford a nice high-rise office. B) Pig bought him — which is what we believe and is the most likely answer, given his behavior.
When we hired J in July 2012, he sent a letter to Pig stating that he was representing us. Pig’s former lover of 25yrs (co-owner of the plane and formerly his law partner) fired back a letter denying any responsibility. Given that J did nothing else after this leads us to believe he and Pig made an arrangement for J to throw the case. We hired J about 30 days after the crash, so there was still time for him to gather evidence from the airport — if he wanted to. The suggestion about restarting the relationship with Pig also seemed like something he was doing for Pig’s sake, not as some sort of legitimate legal strategy.
Pig knew exactly what he was doing the whole time. From an email he sent Jill (which may sound familiar to regular readers):
Date: Mon, Jul 9, 2012 at 9:04 AM
[Amanda]’s health problems and the likely causation of the injury came crashing down on me this morning when I realized that because of criminalization she has no legal recourse. When the issue becomes personal as has this one, you can no longer stay on the sidelines.
In other words, because he knew he was dealing with two sex workers, he knew he could get away with whatever he wanted. Not surprisingly, J never saw this email as a smoking gun.
After exchanging dismissal letters with J, I approach a member of the media to ask some strategy questions since Jill and I decided to go public about Pig this spring. I give a brief summary of events and was asked about my mental health. This is a sensational, unbelievable story but it is completely true. If it seems illogical, consider that the driving force behind these actions — Pig — is an illogical man. None of what he’s done has made any sense to us and we’ve expended considerable energy in trying to understand the mind of Pig. We have a difficult time putting ourselves in the shoes of a 72yr old, very wealthy, entitled white man with a drinking problem who acts like a spoiled 4yr old in short pants. He’s a sociopath. A pusillanimous, fatuous gasbag with a non-working 4″ penis. We cannot wrap our heads around his perspective.
A universal truth: women don’t like violence against women. Neither Jill nor I understand why men so puzzled about this concept. [/pullquote]
Then again, he doesn’t understand us either. Jill hates him for being willing to fuck me and leave me on the floor of the beach house to die, then raping me twice while I was recovering from the injuries he caused. For my part, permanently injuring me and beating my friend to death through hired goons doesn’t kindle loving feelings in my breast.
The option of courtroom justice is gone, but this leaves us free to contemplate other avenues. It is too late to complain to the FAA but it seems he no longer has medical clearance to fly anyway, which is just as well. Pig sold his plane on June 13, 2014 to a Houston oilman. Pig has no business being in the pilot’s seat. (Due to having hired J, we could not take action on our own, like complaining to the FAA about Pig. J was supposed to do these things for us, which he did not.) Strangely, the FAA awarded Pig inclusion in the FAA Airmen Certification Database.on Sept. 13, 2013, which just goes to show that money can buy anything and the FAA is no exception. (The oilman was given the same award on the same day. Hmm…)
At the end of August 2014 after Jill is safely away from Raleigh, I email him once again. I offer him â€“ for the final time â€“ a civil lunch conversation. I go back to my usual terse style and numbered list of exact stipulations. I have zero reason to be nice or pander to his ego’s ridiculous needs. That I will not touch him or harm one of the few hairs left on his head during our proposed lunch meeting is as “nice” as I’m willing to get and more than he deserves. I’m giving him the chance of a lifetime but I also give his overblown ego every reason to refuse. His refusal means I bring the hammer down and Jill and I salivate at the prospect. He decided he really didn’t want to talk to me that badly, to put his money where his mouth is, so this story, which has been ready to go since early August except for updates â€“ is published.
We filed a grievance against Pig with the Texas State Bar in October 2014. (We filed a grievance against J in June 2014 and he received a private reprimand, which amounts to nothing, despite his serious malpractice.) As of this time, we’re still waiting to see what happens with our grievance.
Pig’s marriage? I honestly stopped caring. But in October 2014 we found out that his wife had finally filed for divorce on July 31, 2014. I took the unprecedented step of contacting his wife’s lawyer and giving her a summary of events. I told her I was willing to make a deposition. I haven’t heard back. Either they don’t need me, think I’m nuts, or my evidence isn’t solid enough. Who knows? All I can say is that trying to help his wife get a better divorce demonstrates just how much I hate Pig. Jill contacted the lawyer as well and heard nothing back.
We also found out that American Express successfully sued Pig in April 2014 for the $22K he owes them.
At the end of October, a family who has known Pig for forty years files a lawsuit against him for fraud. He created a trust for their children in 2010 and they put a large sum of money into it in early 2014. The money is gone. Hmm…maybe they should ask PSS Protection where some of that money went. Hiring professional goons to tail someone 24/7 for several months, plus paying bonuses for beating their target has to incur some hefty bills. (Most amusing in the legal filing is the various ways Pig tries to wiggle out of giving them answers. Jill and I are very familiar with Pigshit and that section is funny.) It’s also quite telling that Pig is such a sociopath and pathological liar that friends of forty years can’t even trust him. Their pain and sense of betrayal is obvious when reading the filing.
In the end, there is no justice â€“ which is the one thing that would do wonders for my mental health, for anyone concerned about it. Both Jill and I have been told to just forget about this and go on with our lives. Well, that advice worked out really well for Jill, didn’t it? And it’s working out well for me â€“ I’m going to lose my partner in this journey through Hell, and live every day in pain that could be fixed with a common surgery I can’t afford. I will never recover my cognitive losses and my brain remains more easily-damaged than it was before June 13, 2012. Jill’s multiple goon-induced head injuries have accelerated her Pugilistic Dementia.
There is no way for him to make this right, he’s gone too far. Up until the past couple of months, we used to think he could afford to take care of all our medical needs and make sure we don’t have to worry about money â€“ but never mind that! He could certainly stop sending goons after us but why would he do that? What’s in it for him? That would be like admitting culpability, something he’s strenuously avoided through grotesque contortions. He’s made his choice clear: he’d rather spend money to make us miserable, terrorize us, and kill Jill than take care of the problem he caused. Had he simply done what he promised to do in the first place: take care of our medical bills, then there would be nothing to for me to write about, except perhaps working as an escort with a traumatic brain injury. I would have already had my neck surgery and moved on with my life as much as possible. Most importantly, Jill would not be dying. (For the record, even if he does magically decide to do the mostly-right thing if he has a reversal of fortune, he still isn’t getting a shred of trust, respect, or gratitude from us.) He should offer us gratitude for not being in prison as he’s blithely committed a number of felonies over the past two years.
Pig went on with his life until events of the last six months put a crimp in it for him. Sure, he makes the choice to waste money on goons but really, did anything about the quality of his life change? Not until the universe starting working on my wish. I’ve no doubt he’s tried to worm his way into the life of another escort. I hope she runs the other way, fast. We’ve blacklisted Pig. No other escort should see him without knowing what he’s truly capable of. Not to mention what shows up when you Google his name, a little bonus we created just for him, us, and anyone Googling him.
I hope he reads this, throws one of his foot-stomping temper tantrums, has an aneurysm and lies on the floor, bleeding to death inside his own head, alone and without help, dying in terror and pain.
money is the root of all power
Pig has proven, over and over again, that enough money will buy anything. Neither Jill nor I received much help. Or, if people started out being nice to us, with very few exceptions, they eventually turned. What caused this? Pig. It’s the only variable in the equation because Jill’s been through personal injury suits before and we’ve both been to doctors before. On the surface, nothing about personal negligence and our original injuries is all that exotic. Too many inexplicable things were happening for there to be any new factor other than Pig.
People are willing and capable of being bought. Both Jill and I will have sex for money but neither one of us can be bought. Civilians are quite willing to be bought. They’re quite willing to give an old, married, rich white man everything because somehow he is the victim and he is to be pitied and taken care of. He has no problem ordering the killing of another person but he is somehow the victim, the precious resource that must be kept safe from things like justice or responsibility.
He wasn’t willing to settle out of court for what he owed us, but has been willing to spend tens of thousands on goons and goon-related expenses, plus whoever else he’s managed to pay off, just to shut us up and try to make Jill go away. Why not just give us the same amount of money to shut up and go away in the form of a settlement? That would have been the simple and cheaper solution. It also would have come with a standard non-disclosure agreement attached to the money. Too late now, Pig!
But my mom can rest easy. My so-called greed hasn’t been rewarded with compensation for Jill’s and my injuries. I have no more savings and can’t afford the medical care I still need. The two year mark has passed so we can’t sue Pig for the accident even if we could have found an honest lawyer in Texas (not to mention that any evidence is long gone). Pig’s money is safe from my clutching, vengeful hands, so I guess that counts for something. Though I’m so happy to see that his money is gone. I thank the universe for that. Pig has enormous karmic debt to start paying.
I work, I have to survive, even though every new client reminds me of Pig. My mind makes the connections whether I want it to or not. Work is pain, there is no more painless sex for me, no more painless anything except running and swimming; not sitting, not walking, even sleep is not painless, there is no comfortable way of laying down. I still wake myself screaming, sometimes. Jill saw a few clients after the crash, she needed to work too. Then she was granted disability in early 2013 and with great relief she retired. (The crash had no bearing on her disability case as it was filed long before.)
Jill and I have done nothing wrong. The worst I can be accused of is trusting people who should not have been trusted: Pig, J, my doctors, my mother. As mentioned above, I’ve rectified my policy on who gets my trust.
Jill started as the passenger in this tale and we believe that she turned into my whipping girl, that Pig expressed his anger of me onto her. Neither one of us doubt that Pig’s goons would do to me what they’ve done to Jill and she has been adamant that I not do anything to put myself at risk. It would render her sacrifices meaningless.
Who do I trust? Jill. Who can I trust like her after she’s gone? No one.
fear â€“ he’s rank with it
Throughout all of this, Pig has been afraid of so very much from two brain-damaged hookers. Like most evildoers, he fears his deeds being dragged out into the light. Like most men who harm women, he fears us breaking our silence. Like most small children, he fears getting “caught.”
There are more specific things he fears, of course. He’s even done the favor of letting us know exactly what he fears. The time has come for us to put his fears to rest, to ease his pain. After everything he’s done to us, it’s the least we can do for him and all who stand with him.
He hasn’t read Sun Tzu. You do not battle an enemy who has no fear of dying, or an enemy who has nothing left to lose.
Neither Jill nor I have ever feared death. She’s in the process of dying and the odds are high her death will be unexpected and sudden. I faced death at the hands of Pig (though I can’t say I was aware I near death at the time). Jill feels she has nothing left to lose. I have a little to lose, but not much. Not as much as Pig, not by a long shot. Pig is a narcissist, he is most certainly afraid of dying.
Jill and I have both taken close inventory of our lives, counted our blessings, made preparation for this day. We’ve both had deep-seated nightmares come true: she’s had to relive Liz’s death and is dying at the hands of a man; I lived my secret ultimate nightmare every morning those first few months, trying to make breakfast, getting lost in my own kitchen, my intelligence a fading echo. Our lives are in shambles but they are ours. We are free.
We’ve prepared for this moment for a long time. I’ve tried to have a sense of feeling when the time is right and it has come, the moment is here, the time is now.
Pig â€“ you tried to kill both of us. You should’ve finished the job.
so it goes
Jill knows she will die before this story reaches its conclusion. In all likelihood Pig will outlive her. If he has his angry, red-faced way, he’ll outlive me as well. Be that as it may, her sole purpose in life is to cause as much damage as possible to those who have earned it. I’m right there with her. Being in constant pain and going through this shit hasn’t improved either of our dispositions or given us any reason to extend wholesale mercy. Softness is a luxury reserved for when your survival is assured — ours is not.
Jill’s been dying since the goons attacked her in April. She has suffered mentally, emotionally, and endured great physical pain beyond the reach of everything but the level of morphine given to terminal cancer patients.
She has made arrangements to give me the best advantage after she dies. Her death has meaning to her if it can help me. I do not pretend that I deserve this devotion from anyone. But I am not going to waste it either. No matter the surface annoyances of living with Jill, I will not belittle the gifts she has worked so hard and given everything to give to me.
She asked me why I am her friend when so many others have gone out of their way to be cruel to her. I have no answer for her other than I see no reason not to give her compassion. She has set the standard of friendship for me, and I for her. No one is my friend merely for the saying so. I expect more than cheap and useless words. We’ve both had our fill of fatuousity.
There are four people I trust, and only one who has my back. And she is dying.
I said earlier that Jill’s life is pointless on any scale, except to her, me, and Liz. Liz has been dead for more than thirty years, far longer than she actually lived. Jill survived because of Liz. Liz’s death compelled Jill to save me and to make sure I am safe. I feel that Jill’s debt to Liz has been paid. This debt haunted Jill her entire life, awake and asleep. She found a way to honor that debt and lose some of the pain of living. I’m grateful to her and Liz. There’s no way I could have ever known Liz but I’ve talked to Jill enough to have a sense of Liz as a person so that she can live in my memory now. I thank Liz for inadvertently allowing Jill to survive.
The debt is carried forward. It’s a gift I cannot feel I earned or deserve. I cannot repay Liz or Jill in any meaningful way, except by memory, by not wasting my life, by living with all the fierceness of my angry little heart and reveling in wide open spaces.
Not everyone reading this is going to believe that Liz existed, or care that her death altered the course of Jill’s and my life. But Liz was a real person who died when I was about seven years old and saved my life thirty years later. Just as we cannot choose who we love, we cannot choose who saves us. Would we want to?
Photo credit: Collage of images created by me in Photoshop.
Yes, the word count is nearly 21K. Yes, it takes a long time to read. Yes, it could make a good book. Yes, there are grammatical errors and I change tense a lot. Yes, I’ve taken pains to document all this; there is even more that isn’t posted. Yes, all documentation is unaltered (except for reasons of privacy) and in our possession. No, Jill is not a good photographer. Yes, that is a CT of my neck in the collage. Yes, comments are going to be heavily moderated. No, I’m not going to have any sense of humor about this.
How to help…spread the word. Send links to people who might be interested, especially if you know investigative reporters. Talk about this on any social media you have. Talk about violence against women, against sex workers. This is all a direct result of criminalization, from beginning to end. If you want to donate any funds, see below, but this isn’t about fundraising. It’s about bringing to light evil people and evil deeds.
If anyone wants to donate to us (donations will be shared equally because we’re that way), I suggest GiftRocket.com and using email address: abrooks2014 AT hush.com. If you know how Moneypaks work, you can send a number to that email as well. But I’m not going to explain them to you if you don’t already know. Donations are very much appreciated, of course. Hiding is expensive for both of us and I’m still trying to get ahead enough to get my surgery.
11/20/14 — Jill suffered another mini-stroke yesterday. She seems far more affected by it than the one in September. She assumes a clot became dislodged because she noticed the tell-tale bruising on her legs of burst clots (and could feel the pain). Jill was given — at most — a year to live back in May.
11/23/14 — And now the threats of violence start rolling in.
11/24/14 — Jill and I have resurrected XXBN –The [Zombie] Sex Worker Rights Radio Network. Took us 3 tries to get a show recorded. Here you go! Thirty minutes to an hour of not very much. More shows on the way. (Oh, um…language. Sorry.)
12/15/14 — This update is a little behind, but the Texas State Bar dismissed Jill’s and my grievances against Pig as an Inquiry. Makes one wonder just what a lawyer has to do to even get censured in TX, much less disbarred. Obviously murder, rape, and committing various felonies isn’t enough. An Inquiry does not go on Pig’s record.
The police reports from Jill’s attacks in Raleigh have mysteriously disappeared. The caption of the Raleigh PD issued an apology to Jill, saying this sort of thing happens a lot. If only we had enough money to buy cops off, then we too could get violent revenge with complete impunity.
Jill keeps suffering mini-strokes and she is declining rapidly.
1/24/15 — Had a consult with a new non-US surgeon. Not only was he extremely helpful, I learned two new things. 1) My neck MRI from July 2012 reveals a fracture. I had a fucking broken neck and not one of the ten or so US doctors and surgeons who looked at my images ever caught it. No wonder I was in so much pain — not that they bothered treating my pain either. I did not get a pain prescription until January 2013. 2) I need two disc replacements (he made a convincing case against fusion). My C3/C4 and my C5/C6. You can see the C3/C4 protrusion in the neck MRI image I have on here somewhere. He was very concerned about the effects of the pressure on my spinal cord and the lack of spinal fluid around the cord; yet another thing no American doctor really seemed to think was a big deal.
Summary: Pig broke my neck, and American healthcare is terrible. Totally worth blowing my savings on US doctors. Yeah.
3/1/15 — Pig is arrested on felony charges for his abuse of the Jordan family’s trust. Details and gloating here.
150 thoughts on “life, death, and trust”
Amanda, I know that a lot of people will find this hard to read, and even harder to believe. They will say that it is “just desserts” for being an escort. Well, something on that scale happened to me when I was a child, and for ten years. The damage is irreparable.
This is not about about moral abuses, but about an element of sadism that runs through all walks of life, even with the so-called health care providers. People just love to take out their viciousness on those who cannot protect themselves.
Amanda, you are a very brave woman for coming forward with this. Very recently, in Canada, an executive earning $500 M CAD has been outed for physically and sexually assaulting at least 9 women. On Linked In yesterday, a woman came forward in an article and confessed to being sexually assaulted. I see another book coming, and it won’t be like the others. There is no statute of limitations on the truth; take your time.
Ann — First, I’m sorry for what happened to you. I know you’ve gone through tremendous pain and I hope you’ve come out the other side.
Thank you for your words of support! It’s taken a long time for us to be ready to even go this public with it. Neither one of us could stand being silent anymore. Silence just enables entitled abusers, and all abusers have a sense of entitlement, don’t they?
Totally agreed that there are too many people in the world who like to kick someone when they’re down, or predate on those who are weakened. I’ve seen it in my own medical issues and have seen it numerous times with Jill’s issues. It’s sickening.
“No statute of limitations on the truth” Jill and I both love this!!! Permission to use?
Phone his wife and tell her everything.
Make flyers w/his face on it outing him fir who he is. Put them on every car in the parking lot of his church, office, wife’s office, kids offices, etc…Better yet, he should be shot. The legal system isn’t gonna do shit for you now. I’m horrified reading this. So sad. I hope he dies in agony.
No one — Ha!! Strangely, I have not been able to find a picture of him. But…his wife knows because his wife’s lawyer knows. It will be in the divorce, I’m sure.
Nope, the legal system did nothing for us and will continue to do nothing. That’s why we’re doing our own thing now.
You, me and Jill hopes he dies in agony. A lot of it, over a very long period of time.
I am shocked what happend to you and Jill I hope you recover as much as possible
I mean I’ve heard of guys who know guys who kill people for fun and a little money. It scared me when I heard about it… Sounds like pig knows guys like that. I’m sure there’s a way to get a pic of him. Not sure if you can afford it, but, hire a PI to get his photograph, if you can. A kick starter for medical help is also something people would likely contribute to. Harrowing story. Scary. Chills. This story pissed me off. Makes me want to fight back w/you.
No one — Pig and Bashar certainly know guys like that.
He could certainly be photographed, wouldn’t be too hard to do, really. We’ve considered doing it ourselves but don’t want to get in harm’s way.
We don’t want to do a public fundraiser for many security reasons. But private donations can be made via Giftrocket, I just added a note to the end of the post. Jill and I think this is the best way to handle it given that we have enemies who do not wish our good health.
It is harrowing and it should piss off anyone with a conscience. Fight with us! Thank you!
I don’t see the link for gift rocket.
No one — I just added it, you may have missed it if you didn’t refresh. Here it is: “If anyone wants to donate to us (donations will be shared equally because weâ€™re that way), I suggest GiftRocket.com and using email address: abrooks2014 AT hush.com”
Amanda, there are hardly words to write. Good grief. Of course I believe every horrific word. As another human being, I’m so sorry. I will speak up, I will write, I will vote for decriminalizing sexwork at every opportunity.
Lynn — Thank you. Please do speak up, often. Educate others. Help sex workers change the laws. If something good comes from this, I sincerely hope it’s that sex workers no longer have to live in fear.
Wow, I had no idea this happened to both of you. I’m so grateful that you are still both with us and though I’ve been aware of Jill’s condition for some time, hoping she can somehow survive this. Both of you have been an inspiration to myself and the community over the years and I’m saddened that this horrible event has shifted the course of your lives so much. Much love and healing to both you and Jill. xo
Serpent — We’ve kept this quiet due to fear. When we’ve spoken out about it in our lives, we’ve either been deemed as nuts, or toxic. It makes one gun-shy, to say the least.
Thank you for acknowledging this has changed our lives, because it has. Jill’s more than mine — her life will end soon because of this, one way or another.
Signal boost all you can. He can and likely will retaliate and try to silence us again. The more people know about him and what he’s done, the less likely he can keep a lid on it.
Dear Amanda and Jill,
I started reading and couldn’t stop. My eyes welled up at the end over the trauma the both of you and Liz went through. I will not recognize Pig nor his actions.
My thoughts are with you and her. Virtual hugs from afar. Let us know if there is anything we can do to help Jill or yourself.
SRO — Thank you, especially for caring about Liz. She is the positive driving force in this story.
How to help…spread the word. Send links to people who might be interested, especially if you know investigative reporters. Talk about violence against women, against sex workers. This is all a direct result of criminalization, from beginning to end. If you want to donate any funds, info is at the bottom of the post, but this isn’t about fundraising. It’s about bringing to light evil people and evil deeds.
I had heard about what was going on with Jill health-wise, but I did NOT know the specifics, the whys, etc…
My heart broke reading this and nothing I say will make any sense at this point. I am disgusted, saddened and horrified.
Thank you both for being strong, bold, amazing and speaking up about this. Sending love and positive energy your way.
Katelyn — It is all of those things: disgusting, horrifying and sad. We were too afraid of what would happen to her if we gave the real reason for her recent health issues.
Thanks for your kind wishes.
As I was generally aware of your health problems and the ,but since I did not know all the details, your post required some inner strength to complete it. I was so upset that I began an email to you but after reading it, I realized that it was too inflammatory and could possibly get you and I in trouble with law enforcement. I have those ideas and thoughts stored in a safe place. Just know that I can and will bring them to fruition if warranted.
The determination, persistence and resilience of you two is, in my opinion remarkable. What you have overcome physically was outstanding as of May and hopefully both your mental and emotional rehabilitation are progressing as well.
I sincerely wish you the very best and wish a pox plus a plague of locusts on Pig and Bruce as well as their houses, families, offsprings, sycophants and friends. A slow, tortuous death lasting a thousand years would be too lenient for each of those scum sucking gutter trash life forms as well as all like them.
Take care and be careful,
Larry — You can understand now why I didn’t give a solid cause as to my health problems. We’ve gone through some similar things as far as recovery goes. Intensity and severity has been the biggest difference. I can’t say I’ve improved much since May as I’m long past the most important stage of recovery. Doing Pilates now and it has helped my balance somewhat, while also highlighting how weak the left side of my body is.
Your final wish made me laugh!! I’ve no doubt Pig thinks Jill and I are a pox and a plague of locusts already. Pig being a sociopath…not sure that he has true friends, mostly he probably just has victims or those he’s “feeding” off of. Otherwise, agreed!
None of this story surprised me. I am hoping Jill will speak to a cold case detective regarding Liz. You can count on my support. Don’t feel like the world is a cold hopeless place. Everything that happened here was wrong and any reasonable person can understand that.
Jennifer — Thank you for your support! But I will argue that many supposedly reasonable people turned away from us when we needed help. They either thought we were nuts, or they believed us, got scared and wanted nothing to do with us. It’s a ghastly catch-22.
Cold case detective…I’ll see what Jill thinks. Many of them don’t wish to work on cases involving sex workers, though since Liz was a sex trafficking victim maybe they will.
you hit the nail on the head with that one. Sex workers are treated as they are less than human and it is infuriating to say the least.
I found this on reddit and wow, I did not expect all this.
I hope you guys stay safe and get the treatments you need.
Hopefully this blog reaches to a larger scale and you guys can seek legal counsel from someone not on PIG’S payroll.
Katie — Made it onto Reddit! Yeah, who would expect this? There is no easy way to describe the situation.
We’re not really looking for legal counsel, not anymore. We’re looking to make his life hell.
Oh my goddess!!! Amanda- I just have no words. I had no idea. I have wanted so very much to speak with you so many times since we last spoke but (for obvious reasons) have had no real way of contacting you. I just figured that as with many of my SWR friends, you’d moved on figuring that since my life changed substantially enough to make me less available to the movement, somehow it wasn’t so important to remain in contact with me. So I didn’t want to push it. I’d hoped my last comment on your blog would have elicited a call from you and was so sad when none came, but now I realize why.
Just know that if there is anything you think I can do beyond all of your stated wishes here (linking, publicizing, and donating) I would be more than happy to.
I think you know that I trust you implicitly and would never have doubted one word of this. I just wish you could have had a way to let me know what was going on. I would have been there for you- you could have counted on me. I would have done my best to get you a fucking awesome lawyer from somewhere!!! I’m just gutted that I couldn’t know. I really have no words for how I’m feeling.
Please give Jill my love. I’m so terribly, terribly sad. The pain you two have suffered- I can’t begin to even imagine. The powerlessness is the worst of all.
I love you both very dearly. Please know that. And I’m still here.
Susan — I’m glad you read this and now you know. It was hard not to tell you but I made that decision because I didn’t want to burden you with something that would make you feel as powerless as us and…once it got violent, we stopped telling people unless we felt sure they would be safe. I would not want to endanger your family — it was a huge factor in my decision. We had no idea how large his reach was or how much he knew about our communications. We felt it safest to overestimate his knowledge.
It’s been hard keeping in contact with people because this has taken up a huge part of my life and trying to dodge around it is tough. The last time we spoke on the phone was about a month or so before the plane crash. I remember that conversation very well. It was a sunny day and it was so great hearing your voice.
We will talk very soon. I promise. I have Skype now! 🙂
Jill has thought of you often. We both miss you!
We used to communicate many years ago even though we never met. I withdrew from most shared spaces, but I still occasionally read your blog (and TitsAndSass regularly – that’s how I got here this morning).
I did not have the strength to finish reading this. I started, then I skimmed. Words are not adequate. I feel shock, compassion, and (helpless?) rage. This is both personal and systemic. It is hard for me to spread the word because these days, I mostly silently read and do not have an online presence to contribute. But I will try. My thoughts are with you and Jill.
Thais — Nice to hear from you again!
It is a long piece, endurance blogging.
Thanks for your kind words. If you pass the link along to people you know (who might care), that’s plenty good enough.
Holy smokes, I had no idea that about the depth of this story when we last chatted a couple of years ago. I am glad to see that the direction of the story is starting to turn in your favor, although it is nowhere near complete. The personal update on the blog makes complete sense now. I am glad to see that he is starting to get what he deserves. Sometimes the universe takes it’s time with karmic retribution on those who deserve it.
I will be hoping for the best. If there is anything you need help with let me know. (you know my limited skill set as it is.)
Dante — The last time we talked was before the real violence got started. The situation already wasn’t great but it went downhill from there.
We hope he gets karmic justice — he deserves it so much. I’m not going to say that things are turning in our favor because they’re not, too much damage has been done. But we are finally at a place where we can call him out on his shit.
This breaks my heart, and pisses me off. this is whore-hatred at every turn, and it makes me burn. I’ve posted on my FB, but i don’t know what else to do. i’m thinking of you both.
Crystal — Nice to see you here too! Yup, this whole story is a sterling example of the effects of criminalization. Pass this along to whoever you think might care. It doesn’t compare to sex workers who are murdered and ignored, but it’s not that far from it either. As Jill has said in conversation, the entire system failed us again and again. Doctors, lawyers, the police, the legal system, even medical boards.
wow! You ladies have been through hell and back. I think pig is a fitting name for your tormentor because that’s just what he is, a pig. My heart goes out to you and I hope you get the surgery you need with no further complications. I can totally empathize with you as I too have a stalker and have been raped, and suffered physical and emotional injuries, though not nearly as severe as yours or Jill’s. My own injuries are rather mild compared to what you ladies suffered. I hope things get better for you from here on out. Nobody deserves what you and Jill have endured.
Discreete — His name does fit, doesn’t it?
Working on the surgery. Working and working. Even with Obamacare the American medical system sucks and now I have the dreaded “pre-existing condition.” Fortunately, not every country follows the US’s lead on these things. Money is still required, of course. That is modern life.
I’m so sorry to hear about your violent stalker. I hope you can get away from him and rebuild your life, to own your life and body again. If you ever need the strength to go public about him, contact me. I don’t know what else to say, too many women and sex workers are victims and rarely is anything done about it other than to tell us to “let it go” or “deal with it” or change our entire lives (which is what Jill and I have had to do to keep from being killed). I hope it gets better for you, I know I cannot guarantee that and it sucks. The feeling of powerlessness makes everything so overwhelming, at least that’s been our experience.
Followed the link from Tits and Sass. I feel like I ran into someone cut from the same cloth as Pig, about two years ago. He was a man hell bent on creating his own slavery ring, both for manual labor (mostly men) and sexual service (all women, from what I gathered). I was not surprised when I googled him later and found that one of his “employees” had murdered him. I only wish I had watched the story closer and offered some testimony on behalf of the accused murderer, because that young man is a hero.
I hope justice comes for Pig as well.
Electra — Thanks for your Tweets too!
WOW. What a story. Pig seemed to think I was his own personal slave, that he had bought me (which is obviously not how I saw it). The man you speak of is incredibly evil. I’m glad he got what he deserved and I agree the young man who killed him is a hero. I can easily imagine what it took to push that young man to the breaking point.
We hope justice finds Pig — like a freight train finds a coin on the tracks.
Previous conventional wisdom has held that rehabilitation from strokes would max out at 18-24 months. The latest studies have shown that theory is no longer valid; now it has been proven that a stroke victim can improve for however long rehabilitation is continued. I don’t know if this applies to TBI victims but it probably wouldn’t hurt to find out.
Also, Google Dr. Edward Taub and his Constraint Induced Therapy for stroke victims. Again, I don’t know if it would benefit a TBI victim or not. When I learned about his program, I had already achieved close nearly 100% percent mobility and range of motion.
I wish you the very best in your recovery and your life as well.
Larry — While I have no idea if therapy for stroke victims and TBI victims can overlap, the real problem is that I can’t afford any program right now, even assuming I could get into one (my improvement has probably already reached its maximum). And…this is no judgement on you…a rich, white, older man is going to have access to medical care that I never will. It’s a fact of life in the US (and some parts of the world). If nothing else, the last 2yrs have shown me this, over and over again, with myself and Jill.
@Ann, thank you for your supportive post. Amanda’s courage is amazing. Exposing Pig for who he is and what he has done is truly amazing in it’s courage. Even more courageous was her coming to Raleigh in May after the two attacks by the goons and the hospital error left me literally trapped on my living room floor. By coming she saved my life as I would not have survived much longer without someone’s help to get me to doctors, food water, etc. She came to help me on short notice, at great expense and at even greater risk as she went to my apartment. The same apartment where the attack that put me in the condition I was and am still in happened. She knew that Pig’s goons may come after her and still came and saved my life. Her courage is off the charts.
@no one I’m a believer in karma. Pig will get what he has given. I hope you do fight with us. Pig is a danger to escorts and to society. He needs to be exposed for who he is and he certainly needs to never have access to another escort again in his life.
@Lynn, your idea to work for decriminalization is great. Pig and men like him get away with this shit because of criminalization and whore stigma. It will be a safer world when we can safely go to the police when we are victimized by men like Pig without fear of arrest.
@Serpent, You have been there and been supportive more often than you know. You rock and thank you!
@SR Only. Thank you for caring about Liz! I have no words for how awful it was for Liz especially the last night. While I know consciously that there wasn’t much I could do for Liz as she and I were trapped in the same situation, it is very hard for me to reconcile that I didn’t do more. Liz was a very smart, very passionate young woman who desperately wanted to see her younger sister again and that was stolen from her as was her life. Thank you for thinking of her.
@Katelyn, thank you for the supportive words and thoughts. They mean a great deal. This whole thing with Pig has been a systemic failure based on misogyny and hatred of sex workers. The doctors who failed are complicit. Had they paid attention and not allowed their personal biases come into the picture both Amanda and my life would be very different. I don’t see the doctors who failed both Amanda and I as being much different from Pig or his thugs. They did harm because of their misogyny and their sense that we were somehow inferior to them and to the “good patients”. There are medical board complaints against more than one of them. The hospital that made the errors that left me terminally ill admitted the doctor got the diagnosis wrong. Because it happened in NC where it is next to impossible to win a medical malpractice case because of “tort reform”, there will be little justice. But they did admit they got the diagnosis wrong which is something.
I agree, Serpent rocks!!!
@Larry, As Amanda stated, Pig probably thinks that Amanda and I are the plague of locusts. Which if he feels that way. Good. It probably isn’t the only biblical reckoning that he will face.
@Jennifer Burgess, I have thought long and hard about talking to a cold case detective. Perhaps now i the time to speak to one. Your thoughts on it are inspirational to me in this case. Thank you.
@Susan, I love you dearly and have since the first time we met. The love that you shared with me was instrumental in changing my life for the better, was instrumental in much of my activism and was great help this summer when I was in the worst part of my health crisis. Thank you. Please know that I love you and always will.
@Formerly Thais, Crystal J and Dante Thank you for your support!
@Katie, I am very glad it made it to reddit.com. As for legal counsel, I’m afraid it has likely gone beyond that. We made the mistake of hiring an incompetent attorney and didn’t realize that until it was too late and found in trying to replace him that other attorneys lacked the courage to take Pig on. Once they found out who Pig was they all went from feeling we had a good case to suddenly not being able to take on the case because the “mountains were too high to climb”. The attorneys we ran into were all a bunch of cowards,
@Discrete, I am so sorry that you have had to endure similar to what Amanda and I have. I am so glad you have survived that ordeal and are speaking out. Thank you for reaching out to us!
@Electra, Running into someone similar to Pig is horrible. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I am glad that there was some justice for the perp and agree that the young man is a hero. Justice is coming for Pig.
@Larry, As someone who has had multiple TBIs. My experience is the first six months are critical in terms of recovery. If it hasn’t started by then it isn’t likely to be recovered and that by a year someone with a TBI has reached as much recovery as they possibly can.
Even before reading this blog entry and learning about what happened surrounding Jill being hospitalized, I respected both Jill and Amanda as very strong women. Reading this blog entry strengthens that perception. The strength of her friendship with between Amanda and Jill really stood out to me while reading this blog entry, considering how you’ve gone through things together that I doubt many pairs or groups of friends can even imagine. Through it all, you’ve been there for each other. Thank you for taking the time to write this blog entry. Though I knew Jill had been hospitalized, I had no idea Amanda also was and didn’t know the context surrounding what happened to Jill.
Oops, sorry for the typo. I meant to say the strength of the friendship between Jill and Amanda really stood out to me while reading this.
Vegan Vixen — Thank you so much for your kind words and perception!
No, we didn’t talk about what was going on much, we weren’t ready, we had to know we were safe first. I hate living in fear and being silenced because of fear. It’s not how I want to live and it’s one of many things that I hate Pig for.
Our friendship is strong, though we bicker a lot. Get to know someone well and you get to know everything irritating about them. However, neither one of us was willing to let the other get hurt and die without trying to help. I guess that’s really the basis of all this. That, and we both have a real big “fuck you” attitude towards people like Pig.
Thank you so much for your supportive email! I wish my heart surgery hadn’t messed up you and I getting together. I hope maybe we will see each other in person at some point Please know that your friendship has always meant a lot to me and you are a great activist!
Oops I hit post comment too soon.
You are very perceptive and right. Amanda and I do have a strong friendship. Amanda is right that she and I bicker sometimes usually over stupid things but the friendship is strong. I don’t think that any two people would do any better than she and I have given the circumstances. I am extremely fortunate to have her as a friend. I can trust her and I know she has my back and that she has enormous courage. Amanda is ninja.
In May of this year Amanda dropped everything and flew to Raleigh and saved my life. I was so ill that I couldn’t even sit up. I literally spent many days on the floor too weak to do anything. The toilet was an enormous challenge. I had a friend of 20 plus years in Raleigh, or at least I believed she was a friend, and she did virtually nothing. I begged her to get me some food and water and she refused saying my condition was so bad that it was too upsetting for her to help me. Needless to say that friendship ended.
I wasn’t able to even get to my car to go see doctors to get blood thinners or to see the hematologist. Amanda dropped everything and flew to Raleigh on one day notice. I was in such bad shape that I wasn’t going to live through the weekend. Amanda came, got me food and water, got me to doctors to get the blood thinners I needed. I was in such bad shape that Amanda initially came to be with me so that I wouldn’t die alone. She helped me do short walks that the doctor had advised that I wasn’t able to do alone. While I still have a terminal diagnosis with a prognosis of living less than a year. Amanda coming to help me and staying nine days saved my life and bought me time that I wouldn’t have had. Had she not come I would have died on my floor. I know that this response people will ask why I didn’t call 911. I had gone to the hospital twice and been told there was nothing more that could be done. The last time I went to the ER with a blood clot in the lung the doctor told me that I needed to accept the reality of the situation. There is nothing anyone can do. and that going to the hospital was a futile effort. But Amanda came and helped me and I’m still here seven months after the terminal prognosis.
Amanda came knowing that the same goons that beat the shit out of me trying to get her location could be there and still she came. She is totally courageous, she is the most honest, ethical person I know. It took huge balls to come to help me knowing the goons were looking for her but she came anyway. Whatever time I still have in my life comes from Amanda coming to literally save my life.
you and your books were there for me, trying to find out how to make it in this business, over five years ago, and I had the honor of meeting you at desiree not long after that. You were unfailingly warm, kind, and wise. I’m deeply horrified to hear about this only now, and you’ve got support coming your way.
Paige — Thank you for your kind words! If you are who I think you are, you’re very welcome (and I remember sticking my foot in my mouth too, which happens a lot). Any support in any way is appreciated. You probably know that just having someone listen and believe means a lot.
If you are who I think…keeping up with the Tattoo Gallery on Jacqueline Carey’s site? I think of you every time I look for updates.
I’ve been through a very similar ordeal with a client who decided to rape, assault, handcuff and hold without consent my best friend, who was working with me at the time. He was equally as nuts as the guy you’re talking about and once I went to the police with his information (and it turns out multiple other female sex workers came forward citing incidents with him when they ran his face on the local news channel) he hired some goons to come and “scare” us out of the criminal trial. There were me and my best friend and about 15 other women in the criminal trial against him and he scared or paid off all the girls except my friend and I. Anyways, the happy ending was he pled guilty to the charges as part of a plea deal and now is behind bars and lost his financial trading job and his reputation is completely ruined.
So my point is–I would highly recommend GOING TO THE POLICE. I know it seems like a bad idea but they cannot arrest you for anything unless THEY have proof. Ask for a female cop as well when you make your first police statement—you’ll get more sympathy that way. I had to go through 3 officers before anyone would even take my statement but once I woman heard it suddenly it was all over the news, 3 female detectives were on the case, and all of them told me time and time again “do not be afraid we have no problem with what you do” AND they knew I was working the entire time the case was in court (2 years). In my experience at least, cops DO have a negative bias towards sex workers yes, and be clear you were “being paid to DATE HIM”, but when it comes to seriously harmful sociopaths, police DO want to help remove them from the community.
In your case, after reading this, it will be hard since he’s so embedded in the public sphere and the cops are obviously on his payroll. I would suggest trying multiple different police stations and ask for women. Someone I’m sure will grab the case and once you have an advocate with the police, then GET A REAL LAWYER. That’s my other piece of advice. Call Gloria Allred. Call a high power female friendly attorney. Make this public and make it big. The only way to win against embedded establishment men is by the power of publicity. Have your attorney help you blow this up. Go to local news stations with the story. But always have the attorney helping you. And if you start having goons show up, immediately call your lawyer, get restraining orders, file complaints with security companies, even threaten to sue them (that worked well for me, it made them stop harassing my family). And if they pretend to be cops? Oh yeah, get their asses in jail for that one! (My goon tried that and lost his security firm for it).
Anyways, I feel your pain. I’ve been in a very similar situation and it took years to resolve. There’s obviuosly a lot more to my story than this, but if you want to contact me about details and if you want some recommendations on attorneys and how to handle cops, you should be able to see my email address; feel free to contact me.
All the best and fuck these crazy dudes. FUCK THEM.
Anon — I know you mean very well, but this post wasn’t about asking for advice. I don’t think you read this thoroughly. I know I covered a lot of ground, but there are some points you seem to have missed.
1) We don’t have an attorney. We do not have the money to hire one, nor do we particularly want one. We no longer live in TX or NC where the crimes took place.
2) Which police should we go to? Jill has an open case filed and it’s been made clear to her to stop bothering the officers by asking questions about her case.
3) I tried to file a restraining order against Pig in the county in which I was living at the time — it was decided I didn’t have a case.
4) Jill has talked to women’s crisis counselors and they have had zero suggestions or resources for her.
5) We don’t have the money to fight PSS Protection.
6) If a goon shows up, it means we’re going to be beaten to death. The goons aren’t going to give us have the time to call lawyers and file paperwork — I assure you of that.
Taking this public is the best option for us. Much like your case with your best friend, getting public attention drawn to Pig is the best way to get him shut down and perhaps investigated. I’ve no doubt he also has previous victims. I’m terrifically happy that you, your friend and the other women stood against that man and put him behind bars despite his best efforts. That is a real victory and something you can be very proud of.
Our situations are not the same. You presume we haven’t tried avenues of getting justice or legal attention drawn to this — but we have (we haven’t spent our entire lives in caves, so we have had an idea of what to try to do). Jill gets shut down at every turn because people simply dislike her, I’m simply ignored entirely. I think you also discount the fact that for the first year, we were simply working on recovering from our injuries from the plane crash and trying to avoid Pig.
The personal energy and actual cost of taking it even this far has been enormous, which you clearly must understand. If I were writing this at the whole start of all this, I’d have a different response. But given everything that has happened, given it’s clear nothing is going to happen from any “authority”, our choice has been the public sphere instead. It’s far less risky to us and requires far less energy/cost.
Wow, I am shocked and so sad to hear the story behind the story. I was so sad and angry when I learned that Jill was dying due to hospital misogyny, and I am even more shocked and angry and sad for you both to read this whole tale. I hope you prevail against Pig. I will do what I can to spread the word.
I wish you both healing and peace and joy.
Ms. Pris — Thank you! The medical mistreatment (and its own subsequent coverup) Jill suffered should never have happened. Doctors are far too free in this country to exhibit their own personal bias, instead of treating the patient and the actual symptoms they present.
Thank you for spreading the word. Much appreciated.
Ms. Pris, Thank you so much for your support! You are totally right this whole thing happened because doctor Faisal Daud is a misogynist pr$%k. I filed a grievance against him and the hospital and won getting an admission from the Executive Director of the hospital that the diagnosis was totally wrong and that it was changed to reflect the extensive deep vein thrombosis. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that his misogyny ultimately will cause my death.
Hello, Amanda and Jill –
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through, but you show great integrity, courage, and fortitude in the face of unthinkable circumstances. It’s disgusting that your choice of work has led to your being treated as social and legal pariahs. Only through women like you telling their stories will we have any chance of change in our cultural attitudes toward sex work. Thank you, again, both as a woman and as a human.
Bronwyn — Thank you for your kind thoughts.
This is what Whore Stigma looks like in action. We’re far from the first to feel this and we’re certainly not the last. There’s no need for this stigma and it serves no purpose, except to empower men like Bruce and Pig.
Agreed that the only way we can combat stigma is by speaking out about abuse we’ve suffered as sex workers and simply by being out as sex workers. It is not an easy path to walk, even at the best of times. Thank you.
Bronwyn thank you so much for your supportive comments. All sex workers suffer because of how the much of the world sees sex workers as less than human. But we have power as well doing exactly what you did. Writing about it and making it public. Thank you so much for your support!
Oh, Amanda â€¦.. this is all just so sad and infuriating and unnecessary. I read it all. I don’t doubt a word of it. It was pretty clear that it had to have turned was “normal” day-by-day life into emotional, physical and mental havoc and then a constant ordeal. You and Jill have all of my respect for continuing on as you do; the frustration has to be immense, and I’m sure there are so many more thoughts and feelings you have to deal with than what you wrote of. To hear that Bruce is safe in SoCal working as a CPA (?!) was sickening, as was the obvious thought that there are who knows how many others like him out there. I hope Liz is resting in peace. I will do what I can.
Lee — Nice to hear from you! Yeah, pretty much every day has been some kind of struggle or another. I’m thinking of detailing our recovery in another post so people get a clearer idea of things — the effects of head injuries are not well-known. A good day is a good day and always a cause for celebration. Bad days are par for the course and something to just be dealt with. It’s made my procrastination worse, that’s for sure!
Bruce — I don’t have the words to say. So many predators are out there and never caught — like every single client of Bruce’s. They get to live their lives relatively untroubled, the same is not true of their victims.
I know that your response was to Amanda thus forgive me for inserting myself into the email but thank you for your support. I too hope that Liz rests in peace. Liz didn’t deserve any of what happened to her, She was a gentle soul.
It totally sucks that Bruce is a CPA and likely having a normal.. Having finally gotten the courage to look him up in 2012 he is married now and has a daughter roughly my age. God only knows what he may have done to his wife and daughter. It makes me sick that he got away with with he did and has gone on and has a normal life.
Bruce sounds like a monster and an awful human being who needs to be in jail. How come he has not been exposed?
Andrea — Jill will probably answer you later. What I can tell you now is that it’s more complicated than you think.
When Jill escaped from Bruce, the police had arrested him and came to the house to look for (whatever). They found a naked, 17yr old girl bound in a closet. They took her out and told her that if she was a prostitute, she’d be arrested. If she was his girlfriend she could go back in the closet. Back into the closet she went.
When she escaped, not only was she suffering massive emotional trauma, she was terrified out of her wits, assuming every authority figure would just capture her and send her back to Bruce. She stayed scared of him for much of her life.
Jill has spoken about Bruce for nearly 20yrs (and answered your question with almost every speech). The statute of limitations has certainly run out and besides, she has no proof other than her emotional and physical effects of three years of brutal captivity. She had no resources to turn to back when he could possibly have been prosecuted. It would have been her word against his. She was a teen runaway. Who do you think would have been believed?
Have you reached out to SWOP national for help? I am posting this blog post to their national list serve and asking for ideas.
Amber — Thanks for posting it to the listserve, I think it may have already been posted via someone else.
As for reaching out for help, um, no. It never occurred to us because I don’t think SWOP has the resources to deal with any of this. It would be great if they had a suggestion for something that we haven’t already tried, but I truly doubt it. This is not dissing SWOP, only that sex worker orgs are thin on funding and thin on powerful allies, especially in TX and NC — where all of this happened. I’d be thrilled to be proven wrong.
@Andrea, Bruce tortured and raped me for three years. The torture included learning cover stories in case he or I were arrested. Making a mistake meant a very severe beating. I was terrified of Bruce. I spent many years terrified he would find me. When the cops came to arrest him I asked for a female officer and was told that they were there just to pick him up on a warrant and if I wanted to make ext a work for them they could arrest me and then I could speak to a lot of female officers. I backed off on the female officer question and let them arrest him without saying anything. It was many years before I got over the fear of him. Unless someone has been tortured they really don’t understand the emotional and psychological impact of severe violence
As for exposing him. I have been doing public speaking since 2001 and have used his first name in speeches. I didn’t know anything about where he was or what happened to him until I found him recently via google. If I went to the police now there would be nothing that would come of it. It happened decades ago. There would be no evidence.
I have exposed enough people. Amanda and I are exposing an evil sociopath now via this blog post. Unless someone has had their life destroyed by a man like Pig and literally forced into hiding, they don’t know what it’s like.
Bruce is an evil psychopath. He got away with what he did to me, to Liz, probably to other girls. I am terminally ill from collateral harm caused by Pig. I have exposed as many evil people as I can. I have little left of my life. Bruce should have gone to jail for the rest of his life but it didn’t work out that way and it won’t. Exposing a sociopath ultimately will cause my death probably this year if the doctors are correct. I’ve done enough in my life exposing predatory men.
When the After Hours update arrived in my email, I started to read it on my phone. It didn’t take long to realize this was far too lengthy, far too deep a dive to swipe through it all. That evening at home, I began to read it online and it didn’t take long to realize this was too lengthy, far too deep a dive to scroll through it all.
I printed it off and woke up at 6:30 am and started reading it and didn’t stop reading it until I had read all 38 pages of it. Then I put it aside, thought about what I read, and when back to bed. I was tired. Exhausted, really. I had been an eyewitness to Hell. A witness to cruelty, selfishness, banality, absurdity and ugliness. The kind of ugliness only a cruel, selfish, banal, and absurd pig of a human being can afflict on others without compassion or remorse.
If I were a wealthy man I would do something to ease Jill and your pain. As if scratching a check could possibly be anything more than a kind gesture as effective as trying to empty the ocean with a spoon. The misery and suffering you both have endured stunned me, touched me, and made me contemplate long and hard how much it costs a woman to let a man who cares only for himself and nothing about her too close for comfort. Or safety.
Amanda, I’m a writer and pretty good one if I may be so immodest. But you—you’re a great writer and you tell a horror story I could never imagine in my worst moments. When you and I discussed your first book , I knew you were one of those writers whom as James Baldwin said, “are here to disturb the peace.” Even when I don’t agree with you I’m never left without something to think about. The greatest gift a writer can offer to the world is how they can take what doesn’t exist until they put it into words.
At a journalism convention I attended a seminar where a writer for Newsweek and the author of several books was asked, “How do you know when you’ve got a story that’s worthy of a book?” He said, “You don’t know until you start writing if you’ve got a book or just a long article.”
This is a story worth telling and while I can’t say whether its a long article or a book, it’s a story well told and well worth reading. If it’s an article I would definitely advise anyone who cares about women to read it. If it’s a book I would definitely buy it.
Jeff — Yeah, it’s a long post. 38 pages, huh? 🙂
Well, scratching a check WOULD help a lot, but it’s Pig who truly needs to pay it (not that it’s going to happen).
There’s a reason why “trust” is one of the words in the title. While Jill did not trust Bruce (except for maybe the first hour of their acquaintance), I did trust Pig a fair amount. This is a horror story, but plenty of women have lots of stories of their trust being abused and betrayed by men, over and over again. We’re not talking petty things like cheating (what men seem to think trust is all about), real things that affect their entire lives. The comment Louis C.K. makes on what it must be like to date as a woman is spot on. It’s one of the most empathetic things I’ve ever heard a man say.
Thanks for the lavish compliments on my writing. It seems I only do one type of writing well and it’s not fiction. Maybe I missed my calling as a reporter. Jill and I intend to turn this into a book (and it wouldn’t take much to get it there), probably fairly soon. Why not? I had the same thought as that Newsweek writer — when I had gotten most of this down by August, I realized I had a novella already.
My peace gets disturbed a lot. I’m just returning the favor. 🙂
Hello beautiful ladies!!
Yes, Amber posted your story to SWOP and Melissa from the SWP offered to help in any way she could. Yes, they are in NY, but it might be a good idea to give her a call and chat about possible options.
Also, I tagged a friend of mine when I put this on FB, and she’s interested in doing a story. She’s emailed you but isn’t sure if you still check that. She and Amber are both very dear friends and I’m so glad they are aware. My friend who emailed you would work with me on the article, but I’d need to talk to you in person as opposed to on this blog at some point. When you feel it’s the right time and safe, please give me a call. I still have the same number.
Believe me, ladies- you have many people who are concerned and want to help in some way. You are not alone!!! 🙂 And I send all my love to both of you. I look forward to shaking some things up!!
Susan — Check your email! 🙂
Sending love back to you Susan
The man you call Pig is a distinguished Attorney. The gold digging stops immediately girls. . It took all of two minutes to determine your actual identities. I know who you are. I know where you are. I know where you buy your groceries. I had an interesting talk with both of your families. It seems none of them want anything to do with two whores. In reality no one cares about the fate of two whores. I have examined your financial records. Neither of you have any money. You both are facing outstanding arrest warrants in Arizona. Perhaps previous attempts to communicate messages to both of you haven’t been clear enough. It is interesting to consider Jill’s bruise picture and what it will look like when someone a bit more professional interviews her. Purple is a good color for both of you. You have no money, no allies, no credibility, and no case. You are on the run, facing criminal charges, injured and have no alternatives.
Girls here is the deal. All three blog posts come down right now. Nothing else is ever spoken about this matter and perhaps your good behavior will be taken under consideration. Do anything different and you will be dealt with.
Mr. Gentleman — Thanks for the threats. Extremely professional of you. Guess you work for another “security” company.
To the public reading this: this is the kind of shit we’ve been putting up with for the past 2yrs. Mr. Gentleman is mostly upset due to not being able to find us anymore and not being able to beat Jill to death.
You girls have made the rules. You had your opportunity and you have it for six more hours. Take down the Pig blog post and the two related posts or Amanda we will deal with you as we have dealt with Jill. Jil talk to your friend as your future depends on her. Your luck has run out Jill You won’t withstand the next round.
No one cares about whores so we all know you have no recourse.
Everything comes down the topic is ended and you go on with your life. If not you pay the price.
The â€œgold diggingâ€ never started. Your distinguished attorney was negligent as a pilot and crashed the aircraft we were flying in. He therefore was liable for our injuries and our pain and suffering according to Texas law. It is not â€œgold diggingâ€ to hold a person that injured you to the standard of making you whole once again.
If you knew our location you would not need to contact our families so your bullshit about knowing where we are is just that bullshit.
You examined my financial records and learned I have little money. Wow, what a revelation.
Neither I or Miss Brooks have outstanding warrants against us in Arizona. That is an entirely baseless and libelous charge. One that may get you and those you work for sued for libel among other things.
Previous attempts to communicate messages to me meant beating me badly enough to hospitalize me. You are taking credit for that? That opens the door for more serious charges.
A more professional â€œinterviewâ€? Does that mean they are more or less likely to drag me into the woods, and attempt to rape me in a draining ditch? Certainly that is professional. Actually I do know what you mean. Your message is clear. Someone that will torture me harder. Asshole the torture me for information thing has been done before. It hasnâ€™t worked. Do your homework and read my background. Iâ€m not one who is going to break easily and I am terminally ill. I will certainly die long before you get any information. But let me be perfectly clear. Iâ€™ve been tortured plenty of times. I know what I can withstand. You will never get anything from me about Amanda.
Here is my two point suggestion. One; shut your libelous and defamatory mouth or you will be the defendant in a lawsuit. Two; I have dealt with 2.5 years of your goon colleagues. Your threats donâ€™t scare me. So go fuck yourselves.
The only thing I have to add is that Mr. Gentleman has had a strange obsession over Jill’s penis (or lack of it). Someone is very concerned about their masculine sexual identity for some reason or another. The penis question is second only in rank to the question about my location. Not sure if I’m honored or not. My title as #1 most important question could quickly be overshadowed by Jill’s penis. It’s kind of a Schrodinger’s penis, really.
For the sake of clarity I do not have and never have had a penis. Mr Gentleman made a phallic remark that I sarcastically responded to. Although I am very curious as to why Mr. Gentleman and Pig care so much about this issue They both would be disappointed that I am white as I have little doubt that both Mr Gentleman and Pig would like to suck black dick among other things that I will leave to the imagination of the reader. However, I guarantee that I have a bigger set of balls than any of the goons or their masters that have come my way in the last 2.5 years.
Jill — You just ruined my Schrodinger’s Penis joke. 🙁
I don’t know what Schrodingerâ€™s Penis is.
Mr Gentleman and Mr. Pig are both cowards, losers and fools.
Neither of them have enough manhood in their family lines going back at least 8 generations in order to be able to successfully intimidate anyone.
There are real men in Texas who know how to properly treat ladies. Gentleman and Pig have no concept of what that even means.
They are lower life forms than cockroaches and deserve even less recognition or respect.
Actual TX Male — Thank you! Real TX men are a treat. There’s just not enough of them around lately, it seems.
This is not a story about whores, or “gentlemen”. This is a story about sadists, and their victims. Their victims are children, grandmothers, pregnant women, and lesbians of every nationality. The one common thread is vulnerability. In their world, a teacher, a judge, and a 14 year old track star are all whores. Mine started when I was 3. Make no mistake about it when I say that it cold happen to anyone. I am lucky to be alive today.
Go to any women’s shelter, any emergency ward, any court. Woman shows up for treatment, gets patched up, then sent out. Woman appears in court, testifies, and then is sent out. Rinse, repeat. Prostitutes have no voice, not because they are dishonest, but because they are humiliated. Amanda Brooks, through infinite pain and suffering, just broke that mold. Everyone has a voice on the internet.
Where I am from, you can blog just about anything, as long as you can prove it is the truth. Names, dates, places, photos. You can say, “On October 5 2012 at 3:00AM on Logan St at Bruce Ave. NW Corner, Superpig forced me to my knees and had me fellate him. I got skinned knees. He is circumcised. He was wearing jeans and white underwear. Then he slapped me and threatened to kill me. I had my knees treated at Sisters of Mercy Hospital, here is my tag, and some more pictures.” – Anastasia Romanov. She can blog, and there is sfa that he can do about it, but his whole world is about to go supernova. All you did was to tell the truth.
Now Superpig is going to threaten you with all sorts of rubbish, mostly assuming you can never track him down yourself. But it’s funny how many people know people who are in law enforcement, hanging out in dojos, advanced hackers, and our good friends at motorcycle clubs. Cultivating friends like these at a courteous distance does wonders for your confidence. Don’t think I haven’t bought the odd bottle of JD in gratitude.
Your lawyer will give you thousand reasons not to do it. Here is reality. The odds are that you will lose the case, even if you were a nun. There are risks. But I would rather take a chance than look at a deviated septum every day. Life is about risks. Take one.
The “Gentlemen” of the world thrive on terror. Work this to your advantage. It doesn’t take much for a hacker to find out who they are. Good ones can even get into their bank accounts. Not to steal, of course. But maybe to freeze certain assets for a very, very long time. Yessssss, little girls. You can be sadistic, too.
There is no statute of limitations on the truth. Say it loud, and say it often. Now may not be the time – but 10 years from now may be. Above all, be true to yourself. Write a blog. Tell the truth. Keep your head high. And never let them forget.
Ann — Thank you for this. Indeed, while the post is about what happened to Jill and I, it’s not at all unique in the larger spectrum of what women go through every day. We only need to look at the news to see that.
Thank you for sharing your story — how much harder you had it because of your age. My heart goes out to you.
Been trying to find a good hacker and I guess we don’t run in the right social circles because in over a year of searching, we’ve come up with nothing. We also lack the money Pig has — which does make life easier. If anyone wants to put us in contact with a hacker — we’re very open to an intro!
The goons of the world thrive on terror, and Pig’s goons have accomplished that. Mr. Gentleman hasn’t because he’s clearly talking out of his ass. Stupidity is funny but not scary.
Thank you for the kind words and encouragement.
I’m so sorry that you had to go through what you did. Thank you for sharing and for your strength and solidarity.
I have read this over and over and am horrified at what Pig has done and gotten away with. I am in awe of the friendship between the two of you. Clearly deep down you must love each other because there is no other explanation for the dedication. I don’t know that I could or would find the courage to take the beatings that Jill has without giving up and giving the horrible men what they want. Which makes me very ashamed to say but it’s true.
Bethany — You realize that what Pig has gotten away with it because people have reacted like you say you would: just folded in the face of his authority and money.
And you would give up your friend, someone who had saved your life in an earlier incident, knowing that your friend was going to be beaten and probably killed? Perhaps kidnapped? (We suspect this is something Pig had in mind for me as well.) Yeah, you should ashamed. These men aren’t worth giving the time of day to, much less giving them any useful information. If you hold them in utter contempt, then it’s easy to not break.
I hope you and your loved ones never encounter a situation where you will be tested. This is why I pick the people I trust very carefully.
This sounds harsh and it is. Your self-honesty is a very good thing — never lose it. But I can’t respect someone who would sell out a friend to pain, torture, and death.
Thank you for your kind words regarding the friendship between Amanda and I. Yes we share a close friendship.
As for my finding the courage to not give Amanda up… It was never a consideration to give her up. It is a matter of principle. Hoewver, even If I give her up the she goes through what I have or worse. I can’t and won’t accept that happening. It never crossed my mind to give up her information. My thought process was focused on trying to get away. Obviously if they took me some place and held me captive long term than at some point everyone gives up but this wasn’t the case.
Bethany people are way too afraid of pain. You endure it as it eventually will end. It would be different if one were a POW. In a long term situation of torture everyone breaks, but in snatch and grabs or blitzes into hotel rooms. You endure the pain and try to find a way to escape. You don’t ever give up a friend or loved one. Why would you? So that what you are going through can be inflicted on them? That isn’t love or friendship Bethany. That is self centered cowardice.
An open letter to “Mr. Gentleman”.
From your post that, it is evident you are light years from a gentleman; more than likely a total asshole and bully. As everyone with a functioning brain knows, the only thing that shuts a bully up is strength. So Mr. Asshole, even though I am a disabled Veteran, I will kick your sorry ass all the way from Texas to whichever sewer you climbed out of to take up valuable breathing space on this planet. You along with Mr. Pig and your kind always think you can take advantage of anyone and everyone. Mr. Pig, that bottom feeding scum sucking gutter trash, evidently thought enough of these two ladies to invite them on a trip. However, he as with other lower life forms of his kind, when a situation does not go according to plan reverts to his true personality which is to protect himself regardless of what others may suffer or be harmed by his actions. Mr. Pig’s ethics in this specific incident can only be described as unethical; his character lacked any positive attributes whatsoever; the only scruples he has shown are unscrupulous and his only morals are either amoral or immoral. And your defense of his actions proves that you two are “cut from the same cloth”. I could care less why Mr. Pig asked Amanda and Jill to accompany him on his plane. That is between him and them but, when he did and they accepted, he became responsible for his actions. It makes no difference if they were/are prostitutes or the most public of personalities – a person of quality would treat either equally with respect. But, it is evident that Mr. Pig wanted to have his cake and eat it too which is impossible. Every decision in life a person makes requires choices. The decisions Mr. Pig made show that he did not want to accept full responsibility for all the choices he made. And by you defending him with your vile accusations, threats and innuendoes, you are just like Mr. Pig. He should put on his “big boy pants” and man up to his full responsibility in this situation and pay all medical bills, all physical and mental rehabilitation plus all ancillary costs Amanda and Jill have incurred and will incur that are the result of his irresponsible, reckless, childish behavior.
It is a shame that Amanda has the integrity, character, ethics and morals that she does because if she were to out Mr. Pig, he might have to be constantly looking over his shoulder the rest of his life. And I would advise you to not do anything stupid either. You never know who might take offense to his sorry behavior or your unwarrented defense of same.
Larry — This has been on your mind, I can tell! I have sort of outed Pig — you’re not following the links sprinkled throughout the post. It’s one of the things Pig and company are so mad about.
You’re totally right in that Pig acts in his own best interests, regardless of the effects on others. He’s a sociopath. They lack actual human emotions. I would describe him as amoral — he not only doesn’t feel like most people, he believes he is above the law. He cannot recognize right and wrong, the only “wrong” in his world is anything that doesn’t go his way.
Mr. Gentleman is showing his class by trying to do Pig’s dirty work for him for money. And he dares to call Jill and I whores. [Snort.] Indeed.
I hope Pig is feeling some discomfort from all this. There is more on the way. I hope to cause him even more discomfort. Those who aid him will go down with him.
OMG, Amanda, Jill, I am *so* sorry to have let both of you down like this. I intended my post as positive because both of you have been through so much together, stuck together, saved each others lives, even had terrible beatings. OMG. It’s awful that they beat Jill for information. I just meant that I don’t know if I would have had that kind of courage but reading your responses has made me think. I need to find that courage. I work in the anti violence movement and realize that I need to be stronger in my personal and professional lives. I have taken what you have said to heart. Thank you for the honest input. Again I am really sorry that let both of you down but I will take your criticism to heart and use it to improve and hopefully do the right thing if, Goddess forbid, I ever face what either of you have.
Bethany — You didn’t let us down, you don’t know us. I hope you would find the courage to stand up and with your loved ones. If their lives and well-being were truly at stake, would you really turn your back on them? Give them up? How well would that align with your priorities, how well would you live with yourself after? These aren’t questions you need to answer here, just food for thought.
On the other hand, this has shown me how quickly people WILL turn their backs on you and give you up. It’s been astonishing and painful. I can also tell you that those who have stood by me are valued beyond measure, they’re a large part of how Jill and I can keep going.
If a situation developed in a friend’s life, would you cause them more pain when they’re already suffering, or would you be a refuge of strength and source of joy for them? You’re right in recognizing which requires more strength from you, there’s no doubt about that. It’s always your choice in what sort of person you want to be. Your choice then determines how well you live with yourself after, the depth and value of that relationship after it’s all over.
It also helps to view abusers and tormentors as contemptible, stupid scum, rather than as all-powerful gods — because they are most certainly not the latter.
No, I did not take time to read any of the links when I initially read this post. Though after reading the relevant link , a more appropriate name for Mr. Pig might be Lowclass Pigshit. He went from being 110% enamored with you to “I’ve never heard of this crazy Bitch”. As I have repeatedly reminded myself; the only lawyer I ever trust/want to know is the one that is working on behalf of me. That attitude has served me well through the years.
My sincere best wishes in making Lowclass Pigshit so uncomfortable that he wished Jabba the Hutt was his judge, jury and executioner.
With affection and fondness
Larry — Now you know. And why I’m exceedingly skeptical when someone claims how taken they are upon meeting me. I’ve seen this movie before. (The same time I met Pig, I had a client who also wanted to go live on an island with me. He was serious. He was also married. And there are others.)
No, I don’t like or trust lawyers. I’ve had little experience with them outside of clients and still don’t like or trust them.
Discomfort, disgrace at the very least.
Have either of the two of you considered the futility of your master plan? How many more times do you have to be beaten to realize the world doesn’t care about the whining of two hookers? I”ve read this post and others and it is just a pity party. Nothing more. I hope Pig crushes both of you.
“Logic” — Ironic that you come to a blog of someone you don’t know and complain about their “whining.” You’re not much of a reader, either.
Our grand plan is going quite well — as stated in the post. The only thing lacking is Pig losing his law license, which may happen soon. He’s certainly going through some public disgrace. He’s lost everything else I wanted him to lose, one way or another.
Pig can’t crush us. He’s had 2.5yrs in which to try and he’s failed miserably. In fact, he’s afraid of us and our “whining.” As stated in the post, Pig has tried to kill us and only partially succeeded. Pig could easily crush you because you’re a coward. So: fuck you.
By your own “logic” I assume that if you’ve ever suffered an injustice — you’ve stayed quiet about it. Told no one, never reported it to the authorities, never took steps to protect yourself. Otherwise — you’d be whining. If you’ve ever suffered sickness, pain, or an injury, I assume you never sought medical attention or told anyone about it, otherwise you’d be whining. I’m sure you think that the protestors at Ferguson are whining, or that any revolution by the people is a bunch of whining. I’m almost certain you think any woman reporting a rape or abuse is whining. By your own sterling “logic”, you must let people steamroll over you in your life, never taking steps to stop it because you don’t want to “whine.” If this happened to you and you spoke up about it, I would hope someone would excoriate you for “whining.” Wait — it’s not “whining” if it happens to you? Yes, you’re so very logical.
“Pity party?” Not really. Exposing injustice is not asking for pity. Despicable as Mr. Gentleman and Pig are, they have a slightly better grasp of the situation than you and understand that exposure is scary and harmful to Pig. Two “whiny” hookers are actually a very scary thing to cowards, which probably explains your reaction as well. Lots of people are listening to us — we have something interesting to say.
@Logic Anyone, Attitudes like this are exactly what we are trying to change, via coming forward, as they enable men like Pig to harm escorts. I absolutely do not consider our bringing these events to life whiny or futile as doing so takes enormous courage. As for whining, my experience is, most men whine at a sinus infection and fall apart in the face of real pain. I can count on one hand the number of men in my lifetime that wren’t quick to whine in the face of even minimal pain.
Exactly why do you hope Pig crushes us?
This is fucked up on so many levels. Pig what the fuck is wrong with you aside from being a fossilized piece of shit ?
Why the fuck are you concerned with having sex with someone your daughter or even granddaughter’s age. Did this problem develop with age or did you want sex with your daughters friends in High School? Probably the latter. You probably think you have some sex appeal when you likely have as much sex appeal as a Walker on Walking Dead.
You expected sex for medical payments? If I follow the time line correctly you wanted Amanda to dress up in her “finery” just days after suffering a massive head injury? Have you, Pig, ever considered what goes into a woman wearing her finery? Getting hair done, spending 45 minutes doing make up, teetering around on heels, wearing some damn dress that is probably cold inside in the AC. Not to mention that she has to smile and nod listening to your inane bullshit. How the fuck do you rationalize any of this? This is awful and fucking horrible. Pig, you are a disgusting fuck and I haven’t even met you. You should have reported the plane crash to your insurance carrier and had their adjuster pay the medical claims. You have no part in paying medical claims in a crash other than giving an investigator your statement. You wanted Amanda’s medical records so that you could submit them to your carrier? I’m certain your carrier has a mailing address of its own. Why the fuck did you leave the scene of a plane crash? Why the fuck didn’t notify NTSB?
Reading the part about Amanda’s head injury is horrible. I’m sorry that happened to you Amanda. Pig, you cialis filled piece of shit, you wanted to have sex with her in that condition? What are you a necrophiliac? You were going to rape her and leave her there? You think because you didn’t that made it better? You thought about doing it asshole! That’s it. That’s all that one needs to know about your morality You have none.
You have chased Amanda and Jill for 2.5 years? For what? What exactly did you want to do with them once you caught them? Anything you did would be kidnapping and therefore you would have to get rid of them one way or another. Probably using Bashar or some scumbag underworld character. You are still terrorizing these women? Why? Reading about Jill you are likely to get your wish but why? What did she or Amanda do to you? Oh wait, you are male and women held you accountable. Here comes the tantrum. Pig, you are total scum sucking shit.
Is there a campaign to raise money to help Amanda and Jill? If not than one needs to start. Fighting this battle can’t be easy. Looking at Amanda’s neck MRI she obviously needs major neck surgery. My understanding is that both Amanda and Jill are in hiding? That has to be a very difficult life. With all the people who probably are reading this post let’s raise money to help Amanda and Jill. So many other people have betrayed both of them. They need us for support.
I could rant on but remember Karma Pig. Your turn is coming. Since it isn’t hard to figure out who you are and where to find you Karma shouldn’t have much difficulty in exerting its justice. Good luck Pig. Well Pig, the fortunate thing about Karma is that it may cause you have to have your own medical records and you can peruse them as much as you like. Well, if you are capable.
Serra — Was wondering when you’d show up! You’ve really restrained yourself here. Don’t worry about getting caught in the spam filter, I can approve your comments another way if you contact me.
Sex appeal and Pig — please don’t make me think about it, it hurts my head even now.
Yes, you followed the timeline correctly. You may not have caught that Jill had to drive me on a 4hr round trip just to go and get my “finery” because I wasn’t living in Dallas at the time. That drive was terrible for both of us. People may not realize just how much mental RAM driving uses. When you have a TBI (as both of us did), you’re super-short on RAM. Imagine trying to run Photoshop on a Commodore 64 — that’s what it’s like. She had no rest during the drive and I could not help her as I was unable to drive at all (being a passenger was difficult enough for me — sitting up for 4hrs was hard).
I’m not sure what Pig would do with us once he caught us. I’m not sure he thinks that far ahead. He’s never struck me as someone who works from a plan. The threats and attacks have been so muddled and random that aside from the violence, we have never been able to discern real thought behind any of it.
We did nothing to Pig except turn our backs on him and try to use the legal system in the way it was created. If he had honestly reported everything to his insurance carrier — yes, they would have had their own lawyer handle it with ours. I think that’s how it’s supposed to work. However, it’s also likely Pig would have lost his license then as he was already too old to be flying. So his solution was to try and kill Jill because…who the fuck knows.
Fundraising — I’m wary of getting something major started. We have gotten three donations (thank you!). I want to get more publicity drawn to this as it’s the only way we will truly be safe. And maybe then we can safely fundraise. Despite what Jeff thinks, money helps. Of course it does, money is why Pig has gotten away with this as long as he has. Money in our hands means power over our own lives, and safety.
We’re hoping on karma. Karma like a freight train.
What I want people to focus on is that Amanda was in such poor shape she couldn’t drive herself to basic errands like getting her hair done because she was in such poor condition. She shouldn’t have even had to get her hair done. She should have been able to rest. Instead in order to get money to pay her medical bills she had to be driven all over town to get ready and then get raped by that fucking ghoul named Pig. A lot of people have an assumption that if you need medical care you walk in and get it. It doesn’t work that way if you have no insurance.
Should I have been driving four hours through city traffic? No, Amanda noted that I waited in the car in the hot Dallas sun in June and July. I never told her why I didn’t wait in the salon. I couldn’t. I couldn’t sit up long enough without exerting too much energy and thus both of us wouldn’t have been able to drive.
All of this so that 70 year old creep could have “physical intimacy” with someone his daughter’s age. What was far worse, in my opinion, was the fact that I was driving my friend around to get beauty appointments, when she desperately needed rest, beauty appointments so that Pig could rape her later.
I have never gotten by the fact that I was complicit in her rape by driving her to these beauty appointments and then to the hotel where he would rape her. Someone please tell me an equivalent situation where the victim of a crash is required days after the crash to be raped by the responsible party in order for him to pay for medical care. This turns my stomach and always will. Pig, since we know you read this, I hope you know how much I hate you for what you have done.
Jill — Just for the record, I don’t consider you complicit. God only knows, you say this enough and some asshole will think you’re a sex trafficker. So stop saying it.
“the victim of a crash is required days after the crash to be raped by the responsible party in order for him to pay for medical care”
This is the truly disgusting thing that no one seems to understand. They consider it just part of my job. No, it isn’t. Medically, I was not supposed to be ANYTHING other than be in bed. And the situation itself is fucked beyond belief.
Its COERCION, plain and simple. It is NOT your job. If I offer any service or product, and tell you the price, you can choose it purchase it or not â€¦.. if I walk inside a restaurant and smash up the dining room, would it be fair for me to then tell them I want a filet mignon dinner with all the trimmings, fixings, drinks and dessert, and then I’ll pay back the damage I’ve done (and by the way, I’ll decide how much to give you and how to give it)? And, no Pig’s “unintentional” mistake doesn’t make a damn difference. He took control of a deadly weapon despite being totally incompetent to operate it, obviously admitted so repeatedly to Jill, and that is reckless, careless, thoughtless, whatever, but his “intention” was to not give a shit about his passengers’ safety, and everything he did bears that out.
Had you gone up to some random person who had nothing to do with the accident and offered a service in exchange for the price that would have paid your medical bills â€¦.. that’s your CHOICE, and the other person’s CHOICE whether or not to accept (pardon the unrealistic scenario for the sake of the point).
But Pig wasn’t a random person â€¦. he was and is the sole cause of the accident and horrible resulting situation â€¦.. he OWES you the money for medical bills and then some â€¦. it was his fuck up â€“ he is COMPLETELY RESPONSIBLE. It is total and utter coercion …. extortion. If this were any other situation, I’d be trying to think of a word that didn’t come off the tongue the modest way that coercion does â€¦.. but in your case there is one â€¦. its RAPE.
Lee — I did go into this in detail in the post.
Though what I wrote is after 2+yrs of reflection and lots of talks with Jill. It took me almost a year to admit to myself that he raped me — and believe it. That’s how hard our society conditions women to think that nothing a man does to you — no matter how heinous — is rape.
When I tried to get the restraining order against him in late July 2012, the county social worker taking my case shut down when she heard I was a sex worker. The situation didn’t matter. He didn’t beat me, I was a sex worker, she could care less about all of it and nearly tossed me from her office. I can’t honestly say I’ve run into much different attitudes from anyone else — except other sex workers. They’re the only ones who get it (and you). People get the coerced aspect — more or less — but they don’t get that coerced sex is rape. “Rape” is some guy jumping out of the bushes and beating me, raping me, and running off. (Jill essentially had that scenario happen in April and it seems the police couldn’t care less. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.)
This is one of the things that burned so deep when my mother turned her back on me. Her daughter was raped by the man who injured her and she…well…she did not react as a mother should.
PS: Yes, seeing a client other than Pig was a different story. It was my choice. Almost no one knew about my injuries — I did my damndest to hide them. I was very afraid that if I showed weakness, I would end up with another Pig. One is more than enough.
I probably should have directed my comment a little differently. You certainly did mention it, and explained it better than I could have. It was that line “no one seems to understand” that set me off. I started looking at the laws – there are some states that include non-violent coercion or extortion as part of their definition of sexual assault. Texas isn’t one of them (are we shocked â€¦.. isn’t this Texas where one can murder a sex worker if she doesn’t perform to the customer’s demands).
Amanda & Jill:
GREAT job on the radio broadcasts. I had only heard the first one, now come to find there are a whole bunch more â€¦. I’m working my way through them. Jill â€“ the Peyton Manning comparison was very informative. Here and here are a couple of links that explained some of what he went through â€¦.. and (unfortunately) that’s someone who’s got money to burn, plus many others with even more money potentially to gain by providing him with the most through and expensive treatment, facilities, and therapy possible. He didn’t just see a doctor, but a team of six doctors. At one point â€“ I think its mentioned in the articles â€“ he’d even gone to Germany to get stem cell therapy in an attempt to avoid having the neck fusion surgery, to no avail.
Lee — I didn’t know that about Texas, but it figures. However…what he did actually fits under Texas sex trafficking laws — ironically enough.
Glad you’re enjoying our shows! There’s plenty more to come!
Don’t know why Peyton didn’t want a disc fusion but then he has different needs as an athlete than I do. And yeah, this injury requires surgery. There is no “conservative treatment.” There is no natural healing. One asshole surgeon told me that in 2yrs, it would magically heal on its own. Hasn’t happened. No surprise there, but I wonder how the fuck he got to be a doctor.
Peyton did the disc fusion surgery. I believe three of them
Jill — Lee was pointing out that Peyton was trying to avoid the surgery and couldn’t. I’m trying to get the surgery, and can’t.
Amanda & Jill,
I think he knew that the length of the healing and rehab process was going to mean he’d have to miss a full football season, and he was trying to avoid that. Also, he (post-surgery) cannot throw the ball as hard or as far as he did before his injury, and if he was warned of that as a potential consequence, that certainly would have been part of it too.
I loved the turkey story â€¦.. amazing how dense some people are.
Lee — There is a permanent limitation of mobility from disc fusion. How much depends on what vertebrates are fused. And the healing time was a huge factor for him (much less of a factor for me). There’s no good way to live with the injury without it being surgically-corrected, though.
Yeah, the turkey guy was an idiot. I can’t imagine him being any more empathetic with people.
Three days after reading this I am still shocked by the ordeal you and Jill have been through. It makes me sad and angry at the same time.
The whore stigma you have experienced is the most extreme manifestation of an appalling reality: we like to say that in our Western society, women are free to make their own choices, but the truth is that we’re free to make the choices that are dictated to us. There is still a divide between respectable/non-respectable women, and the justice and support structures are reserved for those who qualify for the “respectable” category. The rest of us are on our own. The vast majority of laws being passed “to protect women” (the new swedish-style Canadian prostitution law is the most blatant example of this) reinforces that divide instead of eliminating it.
My thoughts are with both of you.
EC — Thank you. We’re still going through this, frankly. But I have a feeling things will come to some sort of resolution. It can’t drag on forever.
Whore Stigma was alive and well throughout all of this. This is nothing new to any of us, it’s just yet another example of it. Predators are protected because of it.
“the truth is that weâ€™re free to make the choices that are dictated to us.” Yes, exactly. We have had few choices in this, and still have few choices.
Ladies, I am without words. Though I have sent an email. Feel my love.
Gracie — Thank you. Though I keep trying to think of something to say about “feeling your love” that won’t come out wrong, and can’t. 🙂
Someone with your medical conditions probably takes a lots of drugs Jill. If I were your friend Amanda I would be concerned about you overdosing on your pain killers. but you need to be careful Jill. Sometimes accidents happen.
But what would happen to you’re good friend Amanda when you no longer have her back.
Whoever — Again? Enough with the veiled death threats. Jill is not doing well and it’s not secret but what sickens me is how much ya’ll will rejoice in her death. In my mind, you’re responsible no matter what.
Unnamed goon- I don’t understand your point. What are you saying?
Goon- I have wasted a few minutes thinking about your post I believe you are seeing this issue in a reversed view You should be concerned about my safety.
Here are some facts that you have apparently missed. I know exactly what medications and what quantity and dosages to take. There is zero chance that I would make a toxic mistake with the medications that I have. Plus one of the primary medications I take is subcutaneous lovenox. How would one “accidentally” overdose on subcutaneous injections into the stomach?
You have far more reason to be concerned for my safety than Amanda. Amanda has, so far, been able to take care of herself. I, on the other hand, have a terminal condition that was precipitated by a violent assault. Even if you don’t mean to kill me. given my fragility, about any action that you would take would lead to my death, which would be at the very least involuntary manslaughter. Given that I have a terminal condition and am, so far, exceeding life expectancy prognosis, that rules out suicidal ideation and I’m not taking pain killers. Any ‘accidental” death is likely to land you in prison.
Perhaps you should go to church and have a candle lit for my safety as you are likely starting down future whose wife you will be in prison.
What Jill says is true. When she dies, Pig will be guilty of murder. If she dies because one of Pig’s goons did anything to her, then the legal ramifications become even more serious.
God, this is awful. I have heard Jill speak and done activism with her many years ago, Amanda I am so sorry to hear what you are going through, We don’t know each other but Jill is someone I admire and respect. Anyone close to her is someone I am supportive of and therefore am sorry for what you are going through, Jill, OMG, I am heartbroken. This is totally wrong just as is what happened to Liz. After reading this narrative, Pig, started the process that will lead to Jill’s death. Now threatening a dying woman with murder. Jill, Amanda, what can I do to help? Fundraise? Create awareness? Jill you know where I live and that it is likely out Pig’s likely area of power,
Kim — Thanks for stopping by! I’m glad that you’re a friend of Jill. She told me a little about you.
The threats have never stopped coming and probably never will. It gets old. Creating awareness would help quite a bit. Pass this link along to anyone you can. Is it okay if I email you?
AW, Kimmy you always have made me smile even in worst situations. We accomplished next to nothing the day we met other than annoying my dog and learning that matches fare poorly in ice storms 🙂 Yet we had a blast and you got us on NPR!
Kim, my feeling is that if you get any BS for posting support you have my support to deal with threats however you and your hubby determine. My apologies for diverting some energy that could have proven to be “recreational” in your personal life. He is right that the visual probably won’t be as attractive but I”m guessing hubby will find the attitude inspiring,
Although I don’t check in very often, I’ve following you and your blog for many years. I was emotionally destroyed when I read the trials and tribulations you and Jill have been having at the hands of these scumbags these past years. I’ve always enjoyed the intelligence in your writing. To know that someone out there supposedly commanding respect among his colleagues knowingly abuses his power and influence to flippantly abuse and destroy the lives of good people rips at my personal beliefs. It seems that those with power and influence feel that no harm can or should ever come to them. Many times they have the resources to lose battles but win the war by attrition. There are people I feel that I must kiss their ass who are in positions of power because of the possibility they could affect my business. I now have much respect and sense of need to help those in your situation that must hide because of the fear that they could lose there life. I feel my fears are miniscule compared to what you must go through every day now. As a health care provider it infuriates me at the lack of compassion and knowledge that many doctors now have. It seems like in todays world many merely want to pass the buck to another provider and collect their paycheck with little effort to treat the needs of their patients. Even though we have met only through written words, I want you to know that there are those out here that truly see the good and greatness in you. You will never be the same as you were, I just hope you can get the happy back and have a wonderful rest of your life.
Greg — Thanks for your words of support.
Frankly, I now think all of his colleagues are as corrupt as him. The State Bar has given him a free pass, cops do his bidding, and I no longer believe that his wife was ignorant of his actions. I also don’t know why someone hasn’t taken him out by now — surely at some point in his life he’s pissed off the wrong person.
Truthfully, after a while, the troubles are SO huge and overwhelming and out of control that they start existing at the periphery of life, and the bigger concerns are if the grocery store is out of a favorite food I really want. Being conscious of living under the threat of death gets incredibly tiring — the mind will find ways of thinking of something else.
As for US medicine — ugh. Check out my Updates section at the bottom of the post for some health news. I hope, if nothing else, you work to truly listen to your patients and give them the care they need — they may well not find such sympathy anywhere else.
No, I will never be the same person again. The TBI has changed me and my body, everything that follows has changed me. It’s actually easier to find small amounts of happiness now, though happiness has never been an actual goal of mine. It just comes easier. There is almost nothing I fear, not death nor pain nor social embarrassment. As to the rest of my life? I honestly don’t think it’s going to be very long — not if Pig has his way. It’s kind of freeing — I don’t have to ever worry about a damn Roth IRA or anything. I live NOW and that’s good enough.
I truly hope that people reading this blog post caught the latest update. Missed by the drive-by appearances of the US doctors (US doctors allegedly being the best in the world) was the fact that she suffered a fractured vertebrae in the plane crash. The same plane crash that left her with a cerebral bleed. Please don’t try to defend US health care as the best in the world to me. It isn’t.
Anyone wishing to question her story should ask themselves how a very in shape, very healthy 30 something woman did not have a brain bleed or a fracture vertebrae among other issues 1 second before the plane crash but had these issues 1 second after the plane crash. Yet to quote Attorney “J” this could have happened 3000 ways. Really? Excluding a plane crash what would be the other 2999 ways her vertebrae could have been broken and a cerebral bleed start within a 2 second period while seated in a plane struggling to maintain wheels down on a runway?
Hi Amanda and Jill,
I just listened to your podcast. I had two major surgeries in Mexico and I highly recommend a good foreign surgeon over U.S. surgeons. I have worked for private pay U.S. surgeons in the operating room and I do not have any problem choosing a good surgeon in another country over them any day. I shopped around, do not believe fancy websites and fake reviews cleverly disguised as real. I turned to a website called makemeheal.com and searched for real reviews from registered U.S. consumers. It was easy. I interviewed my surgeon and he was very forthright. He had me come to Mexico well before my surgery in order to have a full cardiac workup to determine if my health was good and he had me take a full blood work consult as well. I was so impressed with the cardiologist, she really took her time examining me and then interviewing me in depth. I have never felt so secure about my healthcare as I did there. Best wishes.
Sherry — Thank for you for your experiences and the link! I totally agree and that’s why I decided to try for a non-US surgeon. There’s still the matter of money, but none of the games that one has to play with doctors in the US. Non-US doctors just want to treat you and make you better. It’s such a novel experience.
“I had sex a week after nearly losing my life because of injuries sustained by the man who was insisting I have sex with him, which is rape.”
No sorry that is not rape. Rape is where you are forced. Coercion isn’t even rape it is coercion and coercion can be a crime under certain circumstances but it is not rape. You had a choice get another client but you didn’t now you and Jill have to ask for handouts.
It is terrible you got in an accident and got involved with a bad john but people have overcame way worse. You have to blame yourself to some extent for continuing to see that poor excuse of a man.
But please do not try to redefine rape with your fake feminist version of rape which is anytime a woman doesn’t get what she wants or gets hurt emotionally when she has sex she has been raped. Sorry that is B.S. and disrespect to all real rape victims. Don’t try to water down and redefine rape to fit your situation. That is a terrible thing to do and you will get little or no sympathy from a real rape victim.
You are mad you got into an accident, got badly hurt and got into a major beef with a sleazy, politically connected lawyer. If he goes broke and goes to jail you can’t even get any money from him by suing him. Complaining about it will not help.
If your broke get Medicaid and get the best medical treatment possible and live your life the best you can. Having a pity party is going to take you off focusing on your recovery. I know life sucks at times but you have to roll with the punches.
But that irked me when you said that fool raped you, sorry that is not rape and you are not a rape victim. That is an insult to me as a woman and a friend of a woman that was raped, robbed and sodomized at gunpoint for several hours.
Sandy — Thanks for explaining to me how my own experiences and feelings don’t add up to your definition of rape. When you have sex with a man who broke your neck and nearly killed you because it’s the only way he’ll pay your medical bills — let me know. I’m sure you’ll not think it was rape.
Oh, and Jill, who has had a friend die in her arms as a teen and who was beaten and raped on behalf of Pig with intentions of killing her — is the one who explained to me that what Pig did is rape. She considers Pig a rapist, and does not consider me an insult to rape victims. Her opinion certainly has a lot more validity than yours, and her tragic rape stories trumps your friend’s tragic rape story — so don’t play that game with me.
Requiring a person who caused you injury to pay for your medical bills is not a “handout” — it’s the law. Except in Pig’s case, of course.
I was a resident of Texas at the time. TX has slashed Medicaid and isn’t all that friendly to non-insured people (and getting on Medicaid is a very long process — if I had applied then, I’d still be waiting on an answer). But again, thanks for explaining my life and situation to me. It’s good Pig has people like you in his corner. He’s a victim of tragedy and needs all the help he can get.
Oh, and I’d like to see you go through all this (really, I would) and come out the other side as well as I and Jill have. You wouldn’t. Lesser shit than this has crushed people into the dust.
I am sorry for your horrible experience but that pig did not rape you. You got involved with a bad person and your going through a lot but it still is not rape. As far as your friend if the pig sent people to assault and rape her forcibly that is rape.
If you did not want to go to the police you should have had someone do something to him. Do either of you or your friend Jill have a boyfriend, brother or a good friend who is man enough to go give this pig a beating or may-be something worse?
It is sad situation and if I was a little hard on you about the definition of rape forgive me. You have to try to move on regardless of whether you walk away or seek justice and revenge.
Also I feel bad you are broke. From what I have heard and seen you wrote books on being an escort and you are a high power escort. I cannot understand you being broke why you should be a millionaire or at least half a millionaire.
One more thing I am not in this pig’s corner I am on your side for the most part. However I don’t consider him having sex with you so you can have medical care rape as you could have seen other clients. But I am not trying to argue with you, I do wish you a speedy recovery. Good luck with everything.
“Sandy” — Don’t try to define my experiences for me. Especially when it comes to something like rape.
My finances are my business but I do discuss them in the post quite plainly. Nor is it easy to see ANY clients when one is recovering from a severe head injury, broken neck, and being raped. But if you think you can do it so much better than I did, you’re more than welcome to go through all this, and then write about it.
You’re a rape apologist which means that yes, you ARE on Pig’s side.
Sandy Jones, your post is wrong on so many levels. Cutting through the bullshit, you staked your credibility on being a woman and having an alleged friend that was brutally raped. You arenâ€™t a woman. As stated in a previous response your name is Ronald Alexander. You are a Canadian male in his early forties. You have zero authority to question any woman much less Amanda on her rape. Cutting through more bullshit you have an erroneous belief that your feelings matter or are relevant. You are a misogynist and rape apologist. You werenâ€™t present for any of the events of which you present your viewpoint as though you have some authority. Your opinion is unsolicited, unqualified and entirely erroneous.
You sit there behind the safety of your keyboard and pontificate on what happened, what didnâ€™t happen and what should have been done. You blather your opinion knowing that you arenâ€™t facing any risk. You write as though you were fucking there during the whole thing and have a fact based opinion. You werenâ€™t there sweet pea. Nor would you be. Your cowardice drips off you. You would be one to quickly run for safety and hide if it were you facing danger from Pig. You didnâ€™t even have the balls to put your name to your opinion. You, Ronald Alexander, hide behind the screen name of a woman named Sandy Jones. Amusing choice of names too. Picking a name from your motherâ€™s generation to attempt to cut down a womanâ€¦ How cliche can you possibly be with the Mommy issues.?
“No sorry that is not rape. Rape is where you are forcedâ€.
Incorrect Ronald. Rape is when you have had sex without having actively consented. Amanda never had active consent because the situation was coercive based on a power imbalance and desperate need. She would not have had sex with him if she had another option. There was no other option. The determination of what is or isnâ€™t rape is based on the feelings of the victim not the predator. She had sex against her will. She would not have had sex with Pig had there been another option. That is rape. Amanda was raped.
Furthermore Pig stated very strongly to me that if Amanda was unable to give him the â€œphysical intimacyâ€ then he would â€œget it from me or stop paying Amandaâ€™s medical bills.â€ He couldnâ€™t have cared less about whether or not there was consent. All Pig cared about was his desires. Forcing me to have sex with him in exchange for continuing to pay her medical bills would have also been rape. While that scenario never came to pass, Pig sent his goons twice to violently rape me in an effort to deliver a message of submission to his demands and locate Amanda.
“Coercion isnâ€™t even rape it is coercion and coercion can be a crime under certain circumstances but it is not rape.”
Sex under coercion is rape. I could cite a dozen examples of how coerced sex is rape but I would be feeding your rape fantasies. If someone is threatened with harm unless they have sex, that is rape. You are also missing the big picture about rape. Rape is based on the feelings of the victim. It is not based on the feelings of the rapist or his supporters. You are a male and a rape apologist. You donâ€™t get to make the determination of what is or is not rape. Perhaps you should email your hometown rapist/serial killer Paul Bernardo in prison. He is someone who likely shares your views on rape.
” You had a choice get another client but you didnâ€™t now you and Jill have to ask for handouts.â€
You are turning being wrong into an addiction. Amanda did not have the ability to get a new client. Amanda had a brain bleed, concussion, post concussion syndrome, protruding discs in her spine and a fractured neck from the plane crash. She was very ill and severelly injured. She was absolutely not in a position, just days after suffering these major injuries, to go through the processes needed to advertise, screen and be able to see a new client. She wasnâ€™t in any shape to see Pig but his coercion and her desperate need forced her to submit to his demands leaving permanent and long lasting injury. No one suffering from her injuries would be able to do as you suggest and “see a new client.â€
“It is terrible you got in an accident and got involved with a bad john but people have overcame way worse.â€
They havenâ€™t overcome way worse a week after an equivalent set of injuries. Let me explain something that you obviously didnâ€™t grasp from her post. The plane hit the tarmac twice. The second bounce resulted in a 40 foot free fall drop. If you want to see how you would compare to Amanda go find a four story parking structure and drop over the side and fall forty feet. Once you have done that come back and tell me how it goes with finding and seeing clients. I would be very happy to see how you fare in the same circumstances as Amanda. I guarantee that you would not do as well as she did. Your emotional weakness is visible from your posts.
“You have to blame yourself to some extent for continuing to see that poor excuse of a man. â€œ
No she does not have to blame herself. A rape victim never has to â€œblame themselvesâ€. Rape is a choice of the rapist not the victim. Amanda needed urgent medical care and he was the only option for it. Beyond that, he was the pilot of an aircraft that crashed. He is the only responsible party. It is very telling about your psychology that you blame the victim and badly injured party that was further injured by being raped. The only person deserving of blame is the rapist. The rapist is Pig.
“But please do not try to redefine rape with your fake feminist version of rape which is anytime a woman doesnâ€™t get what she wants or gets hurt emotionally when she has sex she has been raped”.
Apparently you failed your womenâ€™s studies class at Lester Pearson HS. You are illiterate about feminism. Amanda understanding that she was raped by Pig is entirely consistent with feminism. Feminists arenâ€™t sympathetic to rapists as you are. Furthermore what have you done in your life to arrive at a view that women use being raped as an advantage? Your view is consistent with a man that is sulking because he forced a woman to have sex and was accused of rape.
“Sorry that is B.S. and disrespect to all real rape victims. Donâ€™t try to water down and redefine rape to fit your situation”.
I am a â€œreal rape victimâ€ via the definition you are using. I have suffered very violent and long duration rape. It was me who expressed to Amanda that she had been raped. Amanda initially didnâ€™t recognize that she had been raped until we talked at length about it. She is disrespecting no one., especially rape victims. You on the other hand are absolutely disrespectful to â€œreal rape victimsâ€. Pretending to be a woman to gain authority for your rape apologist views is disgusting. Beyond having been violently raped more than once, I am a certified sexual assault crisis counselor. I not only have the life experience but also the professional training to qualify my statements. Letâ€™s also not forget the fact that I was there. I saw what happened and fully understood what was transpiring. You are just a rape apologist male pretending to be a woman. You are the guilty party in watering down rape to fit to your situation. You didnâ€™t even read or grasp Amandaâ€™s post. Amandaâ€™s post documents the nearly three years of rape and violence committed by Pig and his thugs. His thugs had no compunction about violently raping me on Pigâ€™s behalf. They didnâ€™t just arrive at their actions on their own. Their actions, by their own admission, were on behalf of Pig.
“That is a terrible thing to do and you will get little or no sympathy from a real rape victim.â€
Once again you are entirely wrong. Rape victims understand rape. Your perspective is entirely male in that you qualify rape based on flow chart of events meant to disqualify victims. Let me clue you in. Women donâ€™t compare rape with other women and use being raped to disqualify other women as victims. We understand the horror of rape. We understand that every rape is different. We certainly donâ€™t compete for who is the most victimized. The terrible thing to do is to rape a woman. The terrible thing to do is attempt to deny a rape woman of her experiences. The terrible thing to do is to try to silence the victims and protect the rapist. The men doing terrible things are Pig, his thugs and you Ronald.
“You are mad you got into an accident, got badly hurt and got into a major beef with a sleazy, politically connected lawyer. If he goes broke and goes to jail you canâ€™t even get any money from him by suing him. Complaining about it will not help.â€
First it isnâ€™t complaining about it. It is documentation of a long list of actual events. Second, exposing a violent sociopath isnâ€™t complaining, It is a public service. And finally third. Men love to tell women to be silent whenever it involves a male being accused. Telling Amanda to be quiet is a very male centric view. The men in Amandaâ€™s post are all violent predators and the right answer is to bring them into the light, support the victims and advocate for justice. The fact that you have read Amandaâ€™s post and feel it shouldnâ€™t see the light of day is disgusting and indicative of who you are.
“If your broke get Medicaid and get the best medical treatment possible and live your life the best you can.â€
Medicaid is a long process for approval, does not pay retroactive claims and does nothing for a patient with immediate need as was Amanda. It takes years to qualify for Medicaid, if you qualify at all. Texas is a very difficult state to qualify for Medicaid. Amanda needed immediate treatment and burned through her significant savings trying to get it. Walking into a doctors office and telling them you have applied for Medicaid gets you nothing. Once again you try to talk about an issue as though you know what you are talking about. You are as ignorant on Medicaid as you are rape. Perhaps you should take your own advice and shut your mouth because all you have done is show yourself to be a victim blaming rape apologist and entirely ignorant of the topics you are discussing. Silence, in your case, would be beneficial as it would limit the knowledge of your obvious sociopathy and ignorance.
“Having a pity party is going to take you off focusing on your recovery. I know life sucks at times but you have to roll with the punchesâ€
Amanda is the last person on the planet that anyone who knows her would accuse of a pity party thus you can stop right there. “Life sucks at times”? Nearly dying in a plane crash and trying to survive the severe injuries Amanda suffered isnâ€™t an issue of â€œlife sucksâ€, it is a devastating reality and indicative of her strength in her recovering to the level that she has. “Roll with the punches”â€¦ A plane crash, a brain bleed, a broken neck, a concussion, post concussion syndrome and neck injuries requiring surgical resolution arenâ€™t â€œpunchesâ€ they are devastating, life altering events with long recovery times.
“. That is an insult to me as a woman and a friend of a woman that was raped, robbed and sodomized at gunpoint for several hours.â€
Then you arenâ€™t insulted at all because as stated you are a man. See photo of â€œSandy Jonesâ€. This is who you really are and therefore you can save the â€œinsulted womanâ€ bullshit. If you do actually have a friend that suffered the rape you state, it is you that has done her a terrible disservice as you are using the worst events of her life as a proxy in your misogynist agenda.
“I am sorry for your horrible experience but that pig did not rape you. You got involved with a bad person and your going through a lot but it still is not rape. As far as your friend if the pig sent people to assault and rape her forcibly that is rapeâ€.
Save the saccharin platitudes about being sorry about Amandaâ€™s â€œhorrible experience.” Your fake sympathy is nothing more than a sociopath trying to open emotional doors.
“If you did not want to go to the police you should have had someone do something to him.”
Oh sure, boyfriends and brothers just line up to beat up a mob connected lawyer. Perhaps since you suggested it you would like to be the one who gives Pig a beating?
â€œIt is sad situation and if I was a little hard on you about the definition of rape forgive me.â€
You were a little hard on Amanda? Who the fuck are you kidding? You act as though you are somehow above Amanda and able to â€œbe hard on herâ€. You donâ€™t get the option of â€œbeing hard on herâ€. You got your chance to verbalize your invalid, lies based opinion. Your authority and position have been gutted. As for forgiving you. Misogynist rape apologists arenâ€™t eligible for forgiveness. If you want to be forgiven see a priest.
“You have to try to move on regardless of whether you walk away or seek justice and revenge.â€
There is an amazing consistency amongst male perpetrators who tell women to â€œmove onâ€. If you were the great anti rape advocate you claim you would advocate for justice. Instead you advocate letting Pig get away with his actions in silence. Your idea of justice is a male perp getting away with his actions and a female victim being kept silent.
“Also I feel bad you are broke”.
Save your fake pity for someone who buys your bullshit. You feel nothing other than personal need. You are a very obvious sociopath and the faux sensitive sympathetic bullshit just further proves the point.
“One more thing I am not in this pigâ€™s corner I am on your side for the most part.â€
Bullshit! You are very obviously in Pigâ€™s corner. You have attempted to invalidate and silence his victim.
“However I donâ€™t consider him having sex with you so you can have medical care rape as you could have seen other clients.â€
You are repetitive arenâ€™t you? Do you really think how you feel matters?
” But I am not trying to argue with you, I do wish you a speedy recovery. Good luck with everything.â€
Save it. Sandy Jones/Ronald Alexander. You wrote your missives for the purpose of argument with Amandaâ€™s position. Your patronizing get well and good luck wishes are an absolute farce written in an attempt to save face and appear more sympathetic. Find someone else to sell your sociopathy to. There are no buyers of your routine here.
Sandy Jones — Amanda was raped twice by Pig. Before you even begin to argue with me, let’s be clear. You claimed in a previous post that you were “insulted as a woman” by Amanda’s statements about her being raped by Pig. Let’s cut through the bullshit. You aren’t a woman. You are an early 40’s Canadian man named Ronald Alexander. You have zero authority to define what is or is not rape.
Troll someplace else Ronald.
Remembering our conversations about non-profit fundraising back in 2003-2004, I am beyond words to learn of your medical situation. I am so so sorry. I am adding you to my prayers.
Henry — It’s SO nice to see you check in every now and then. I’ve thought of you often. I hope you’re doing well.
Thank you for your kind thoughts. The good news is that I have had my surgery as of last week and will be posting an update on it probably this week. Finally. I feel good. It’s a huge step forward for me.
I’ve been putting up the link to donate on my Twitter account for a while. I’m wondering if you still want to get the word out on that? Please advise. I’m very happy you got your surgery by the way!
Laura — Thank you for that. I think I told you when I had surgery, kind of a hint that main fundraising was over. Guess I should have been more clear. Jill is still doing various fundraises for her ongoing medical care but I am doing fine. I think this is Jill’s ongoing page: https://www.gofundme.com/9y2jkpfw
Surgery has made such a difference in my life, it’s obvious it was necessary. I hate the doctors who thought I should just try to live with the damage.
Once again, thank you so much for your support. It helped when we really needed the help.
I haven’t read your blog in quite a while but I was thinking about you and decided to see what you’ve been up to, I’m so sorry to hear about your pain and troubles, and I truly hope you recover more than you expect.
Robert — I’m up to more than this, but due to this, there’s a lot I can’t discuss. This (Pigshit) continues to this day and it’s gotten very tedious. Eventually, it will end and I can get my life back.
As for recovery, I’m doing as good as can be physically and mentally. Jill continues to degrade in fits and starts — she’s never recovered from the beatings and complications from those beatings.
Something like this alters your life and it’s really hard to express the good and bad of it.
I have no doubt you are keeping busy with lots of things, and no doubt you will be busy in the future. I was just completely shocked and left speechless by this story. Too bad I am not in your area so I could offer my condolences in person, saying “I hope you feel better” via website just seems kind of cold. If you are even in my neighborhood drop me a line and I will buy you a glass of wine, or a bottle, whatever the need may be.
Robert — Thanks for the kind wishes. It doesn’t seem cold via online, I don’t see a lot of people in real life anymore so this is how it happens. 🙂
I’m so sorry life continues to be hard. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.
David — It’s hard, but Jill has the bigger issues as she continues to be a target (for whatever reason). Help? Lawyers willing to fight for us would be a start but the state of Texas heavily favors Pig.
I only wish I knew a decent lawyer there. 🙁
David — You and me both! They don’t seem to exist in Texas.
I happened upon your blog recently after reading The Internet Escort’s Handbook. Thank you SO much for your wonderful advice and mentorship in this industry. I am heartbroken to read about your experiences with Pig. What can I do to help your situation? Do you still need donations? I would love to help out once I start seeing clients again and gain a financial ground. Is there any other way I can help for the time being?
Hang in there, Amanda and Jill. Stay beautiful, ladies!!!!
Lots of love,
Another escort with a BA in English Literature. 🙂
Audrey — You’re very welcome and thank you for being a reader! 🙂
Donations…Jill can use them more than me as she has continuing high medical bills and will for the rest of her life. I’m back to working so I’m okay (and I help Jill as I can too).
Other ways you can help…pass this around to others. If you know lawyers or media, get their attention. If not, just take it as a lesson learned. When there are red flags with a client, do not ignore them! Don’t trust lawyers. 🙂
Thank you for the kind words. Use that English degree to make great ads and lots of money!
Comments are now closed.