SOME HIGHLIGHTS OF MY PERSONAL ODYESSEY June 4, 2024

A 65-year one man campaign fighting against illegal immigration and a 53 hour flight to freedom.
Late October 1947 stood two 11th grade High School students in front of the bank in Mansfield, Arkansas. Soon a beat-up pick-up truck pulled alongside where the two boys were standing. The man in the truck asked the two boys if they wanted a job and a reply was quickly made with an excited yes. The driver said be at this spot at 10:00 tonight. In the boys’ excitement they forgot to ask where, what & how much.
One of the boys was a town boy and the other lad was a country boy. The boys and the driver were at the appointed spot at 10 pm. They loaded in the battered pickup and departed and soon turned onto a rough country road and continued, much to my surprise, past the house in which I lived. We soon drove into a pasture and on to a dilapidated chicken house. The driver ordered us out of the truck and into the chicken house with instructions to keep an eye on what we believed, and rightly so, a collection of illegal Mexican nationals, and if any broke and ran to call out to the driver who was apparently in charge. The illegals were catching chickens and putting them in crates and loading them into a soon arriving old battered former public-school bus. When the bus was finally loaded with the chickens it was off to Springdale, Arkansas, the epicenter of illegal immigration, then and now. Tyson owned another former school bus that traveled daily to Wicks, AR to an illegal encampment for the same purpose as the above. He also had a processing plant in Wicks. The same scenario exists today, just higher tech.
This procedure was repeated 3 more times using the same illegals and three different locations. Another bus arrived to transport the illegals. Before we knew it, it was 2:00 AM and the driver took me and the town boy back to Mansfield. He paid us in cash, i.e. in illegal alien wages. I didn’t want the driver to know where I lived so I picked up my bike in town and made my way back to my home in the country.
We were told later that the driver of the old school bus was none other than THE John Tyson, soon to be King of the poultry Empire, built on the backs of illegal aliens and in violation of Federal Statutes. Two or more things happened that night; my friend and I quit the job, the only job I ever quit, and that night was my introduction to a lifelong battle to subdue the illegal invasion of foreign nationals which could and would ultimately destroy our beautiful republic despite all our foibles. Observe. Unscrupulous employers imported illegal aliens for cheap labor with no regard for the effect on our culture. Is this not true today?
Ironically three years later, ensconced in the Univ. of Arkansas in Fayetteville, Arkansas I met the son Don Tyson at the Dickson St. Pool Hall. Several years later we met again at the Barnhill Basketball Arena during the Eddie Sutton days. Tyson’s seats were behind ours. No discussions regarding the unbridled invasion of illegals into Arkansas, particularly N.W. Arkansas.
As I recall, somewhere between the 1970’s and 1980’s there appeared a plethora of foreign nationals enrolled in what was then Westark Community College, Fort Smith, Arkansas. Later research showed that the Lebanese (MI) U.S. Senator Spencer Abraham was Santa Claus to hundreds of thousands of Muslims and other Arab brands. Some of these Mideasterners were enrolled at Westark. If ever you are in Flint or Dearborn, Michigan you may deduce you are not far from the Sahara Desert. More about Spence shortly. Soon after the above occurrence a statement appeared in the S.W. Times proclaiming, “We will take all we can get” (referring to illegals, mostly Mexicans) compliments of a past Fort Smith Public School Superintendent Benny Gooden. That certainly served our public school system well, didn’t it? Further burdening middleclass taxpayers with exorbitant welfare hand-outs, (including English as a second language courses), more than blacks were receiving. So much for bureaucrats/politicians.
After 3 years at the University, 2 ½ years in the military, I was discharged and back to the U. of A. I applied for admittance to the U. of A. School of Pharmacy in Little Rock and in another 3 years I graduated from U.A.M.S. and finally, back on course resuming my efforts in stimulating a thought process that would help motivate citizens to understand our nation was in the throes of an invasion and a beginning of an erosion of Western Civilization and American Culture.
(OBSERVE—ALL ON OUR WEBSITE…. www.arkansasfreedom.net.) In 1967 I resumed my efforts to educate with Letters to the Editor, articles in the hundreds, radio, TV programs, newspaper, and billboards, while at the same time I was being bombarded by racial slurs and more by ignorant buffoons. I am Scots Irish so those did not deter. Comedian Ron White rightly said, “you can’t fix stupid”.
At this point (1967) I did not fathom how lazy, uneducated, and brainwashed that the masses are in America, a condition that reigns even more, thanks to the Marxist’s indoctrinations that permeate our total educational and social systems. This attack could be said to have originated with Abraham Lincoln and his close relationship with Karl Marx. YES, IT IS TRUE! Do the research.
In 1964 I became an associate of our soon to be Governor Win Rockefeller of Arkansas. He understood very well what the coming crisis of illegal immigration would force upon us. Mr. Rockefeller diagramed to me his vision of how he was going to reshape political Arkansas. Unfortunately, the few Republicans in the state did not comprehend the many negatives of illegal immigration, i.e. fear, ignorance, power & money, therefore the business of Arkansas politics won the day concerning illegal immigration.
We had numerous long conversations when his chauffeur drove us around the state to attend veterans’ funerals at national cemeteries. Mr. Rockefeller was a dogface infantry man and a company commander—a hero and the lettuce on his uniform proved it. The purpose of attending those funerals was for him to praise the vets for their sacrifices and courage and mine was to play Taps on my trumpet. Taps is so sad that it brings tears to your eyes because of what it stands for and the eerie sounds the trumpet makes. At that point I aspired to run his election campaign.
On to 1967, one sunny day I put on my Stetson hat and best coat and began my journey to Washington, DC to visit (AR) Congressman John Paul Hammerschmidt (R). I arrived at the Capitol at noontime and sat in John Paul’s office, soon he arrived with a big smile and said “Joe, what are you doing here?”. I said, “John Paul I would like for you to do something for me, and he said, what is that?” I responded by asking him to get in the Well of the House and make a serious plea before Congress to make illegal immigration a national issue. The question wiped the smile off his face, and he answered me by saying, “Joe, this is just not my style”. What a letdown! I still respected John Paul. He was a WWII hero and a terrific B-25 pilot and was backed up by plenty of ribbons just like Mr. Rockefeller. I am also a B-25 pilot.
On leaving John Paul’s office, I heard somebody call, “Joe, hold on”, it was my friend Congressman Tommy Robinson (Little Rock). As he approached, he said, “Are you here on personal business”? and I said, “no Tommy, I’m here on the business of the American people”. I told him the response I got from John Paul, and he said he was on his way to Little Rock, but his flight was socked in and asked me to stay with him overnight and I could explain the details and he would be happy to address the Congressional body. He stated it could be that he would not be available and if that’s the case, he would inform 3-4 of his colleagues. As it turned out, Tommy decided to run for Governor, and I never heard from his friends. He did tell me that he called them.
Skipping ahead, somewhere around 1978, Bill Clinton was ensconced on the Conservative side of the political spectrum. I campaigned for Bill for 2 years, spent one entire summer with he, Hillary and baby Chelsea. Occasionally he would ask me to fly him to some political gathering and I always gave him the “affirm”. He would call me at home late at night and at my pharmacies for advice, not that he always took it. The measurement of a good mind makes good political sense. Our political philosophies began to erode, and we parted by exchanging gifts. My wife Ramona could not stand him. Later, more about Ramona.
Skipping ahead again, in late 2,000 my family and I returning from a Thanksgiving Holiday stopped in Rogers, Arkansas to have lunch. In a few, then John Boozman Republican candidate for Congress in Arkansas’ 3rd Congressional District suddenly appeared at our table and remained for an hour. We shooed him off and within minutes he reappeared for more conversation. He told me of the many things he intended to do when elected and illegal immigration was one of the issues. I was elated. John was elected to the Congress and within 30 days the old guard had him roped and tied and his visions quickly disappeared. Later John became a Senator, but before he was elected to the Senate a huge bold headline appeared in the Fort Smith paper in blazing red letters “Boozman declares war on illegal immigration”. John has never been heard from on that subject again. Certainly not, he represented the home of the Tyson’s, George’s, and a raft of other poultry and trucking magnets and illegals were their bread and butter. Another lawmaker that lost his will, i.e. the Tyson’s cancelled John.
2001 was our most successful in the fight to magnify illegal immigration but ultimately it amounted to zero. Barbara (my wife at the time) and I were listening to a newscast highlighting political news, in which case the cast was pointing out the negatives of Republican U.S. Senator Spencer Abraham who facilitated the entrance of hundreds of thousands of middle-easterners. Abraham himself was of Lebanese descent. To whet my appetite was the fact the announcer stated Spence’s political capital dwindled to 5%. What also drew my interest re Spence is I had been noticing a plethora of all varieties of middle-easterners enrolled at our local Community College as stated above. Couple that with all the Tyson’s illegal Mexicans it quickly branded Fort Smith, Arkansas, a sanctuary city that city government would not acknowledge. Also, if you ever travel to Dearborn and/or Flint Michigan you will understand Abraham’s success.
Immediately I told Barbara I was going to Detroit and if we could move 5% of the vote, Spence would be defeated. With the help of several like-minded patriots and on the second day I was in Michigan I quickly determined that big city newspapers were out of the question for campaigning due to cost and to focus my attention on smaller cities and towns with daily & weekly newspapers…radio and tv were out of question also due to cost, except on rare occasions, then came my big idea. I went to an airport near the 5-mile Sault Ste. Marie bridge and rented an airplane & told them to manufacture a drag sign that said “HALT ILLEGAL Immigration Now” on one side and “Dump Abraham” on the other! This banner was flown over the Michigan & Michigan State’s football games and on Labor Day flew over the 5-mile Upper Peninsula bridge back & forth, because on Labor Day politicians walked the bridge to display their commitment to Labor, just like peacocks.
On election night Barbara & I watched as the results came in and Spence was 12 % ahead so we both went to bed dismayed. We arose the next morning and got the newspaper and voila! Spence was defeated by 5%!
Several major media gave us full credit for the Senator’s defeat. However, Spence was then appointed as head of the Energy Department!
Now returning to an important experience in my Odyssey, in late 1965, a planned interlude that quickly turned very bad. Before the occurrence I had to make a choice. I made the wrong choice. A three-day window to decide whether to be a potential campaign manager for Governor or a business in Brazil.
There came, what I believed was a once in a lifetime chance to become filthy rich. Our group consisted of 4 men. One of the men (Ralph Dial) had allegedly put together a loosely knit contract (a mistake) that would allow us to purchase residue for a dollar a pound and sell it for $13 a pound. I believed I knew all the facts and that it was a perfect triumvirate composed of our group, the government (Department of Army) and Fan Steel Metallurgical Corp. based in Chicago, with a subsidiary in Muskogee, Oklahoma. Soon we would realize the “contract” was Fool’s Gold. Our group consisted of 3 men other than me. I knew 2 of the 3, Joe Truhill & Ralph Dial less than 6 weeks, and Sam Sexton for years, which was not particularly a cordial relationship.
The source for our product came from the deep interior of Brazil and the nearest city was Belo Horizonte to be known as Belo. In this area there were numerous mining projects prospecting for zinc, lead, & other metals. The method they were using was archaic subjecting the raw clay material into crude ovens at a high temperature for extraction, they then would shovel the residue and pitch it outside as waste material…that was what we were purchasing, the numerous residue mounds. What we were buying was hopefully containing Titanium ore.
The next step was to build a laboratory enabling me to assay the percent yield in each projected mound. The time was mid-December 1965. I prevailed on a former professor of mine in the college of Pharmacy at the U of A Med Center, to allow me to set up a means to assay the raw Titanium ore. He entrusted me with the keys to one of the laboratories at the Med Center and I used this time during Christmas week to develop a means to assay. I got my equipment from the Ladoux Laboratory in New Jersey and developed what is known in chemistry as an ion exchange column which produce resins, I created three columns which would ensure accuracy. When Joe Truhll and I flew the samples in from Belo, after the plane was unloaded in Muskogee, we flew 1 sample bag out of the acquired 13,000 lbs. to the Med Center in Little Rock to be assayed in the borrowed laboratory. Trial tests were run in the three columns and results were positive—32% yield, exactly what Fan Steel and the government wanted. Titanium is a metal that resists heat, is malleable, used in wings of supersonic aircraft, surgical instruments and various medicines. We were told that this metal was to be used in the Viet Nam war.
A further description of our trip: When we arrived in Muskogee from Belo with the samples, we taxied to the end of runway 18. At that point we were met by a huge black and orange Allied Van Line Semi. A big black gentleman got out of the tractor wearing a khaki uniform with a black leather bow tie and billed matching cap and met us with a welcome smile. We helped him unload the product and he departed with the load to be taken to the Fan Steel smelter a few miles away. We made a TERRIBLE MISTAKE by not obtaining a receipt of acceptance for the yield valued at $35,000. I believe I am the last living member of the group. Fan Steel denied ever receiving the titanium ore or ever heard of us and no mention of ever having any contact with our group. A lie. Same with the government agency. I PROVED IT A LIE WITH MY CIA FRIEND, BENNY, WHICH YOU WILL SEE LATER. How did the Allied Van Driver know to meet us at the Muskogee airport and take the ore to Fan Steel?
Within days during that period Joe Truhill, and I loaded the three activated columns into the cockpit of the B-25 behind our two seats and flew the exchange columns to Belo where Ralph Dial (the third member) had rented a small house to be used as a lab which unfortunately we never got to set up. (Incidentally, Joe’s wife, Gerri, was an expert aviator and part of the “Mercury13” Space Program and one other.)
Later Joe and I left for a second flight to Belo via Miami and landed later in French Guiana for fuel and to spend the night. We took off the next morning and our course was flying over the Amazon jungle and river, exiting at the mouth of the Amazon River where fresh water spilled out into the ocean for 35 miles. (A very dangerous flight) Two hours over the jungle I went to the back of the plane to relieve myself and as I came forward, I smelled smoke. Neither of us were smoking, I got back into my chair and looked at my engine and it was functioning perfectly, and I looked out at Joe’s and smoke was billowing out of the engine and flames licking at the sides of the cowling. After strapping in my chair I told Joe, “My engine is fine but yours is in a hell of a mess”. Joe’s emergency procedures had no effect on the prop that was still fanning, and at that point I said, “Joe we have to approach stall attitude” and we both pulled back on our respective sticks and when we approached stall attitude the warning bell rang and instantly the flames subsided, the smoke dissipated and then it was nose down, level flight, on course and High Fives. I looked out to see if my big old R-2800 engine was holding its RPM’s and at that time it was. When we both recovered the airplane was at 5,500 feet. We had lost a critical 1,000 feet of altitude. By this time, we began our crossing of the Amazon River. This required Joe to milk every foot of elevation because one engine could not hold altitude. Another 2 hours to get across the river and looking for the little seaport hamlet Belem, Brazil and fortunately it had a runway and soon after the 2 hours or so, Belem came in sight and as we came in for an approach that was so low that my engine’s prop was cutting off palm branches. Then, as happened in Rio at the Santa Dumont airport we were landing at the very end of the runway, but safely. The airport crew came in and pulled us to the terminal where we spent 2 weeks under crude conditions installing the spare engine that was in the fuselage and finally off to Belo.
Flying at night in various parts of Brazil is against the law; however, some pilots disregard. The third night in Belem we were in the airport café and a fellow came in and tapped me on the shoulder and asked if he could look at our maps and we said certainly. I handed him a map and he unfolded it on the table and ran his finger over different lines, back and forth, as if it were braille and finally he said, “I got it” in Portuguese and he departed the terminal and minutes later we could hear his engines smoothing out and shortly the heavily loaded C-47 struggled down the runway and finally airborne at the end of the runway! No co-pilot, just expertise and lots of courage.
Before we left to deliver the Ionic Change Columns, I was being seriously considered by Mr. Rockefeller to be his campaign manager and given 3 days to make the decision to accept or reject his offer or to engage in the Brazilian venture. The choice was very hard, not only for me but most especially for my family, a decision that was a grandiose mistake only because of the treachery involved at some point & by whom, but as then Governor Rockefeller said later, “Joe, you made a mistake” and I responded, “Yes Governor, I surely did”. (The mistake was certainly not caused by me. The candidates for the treachery were the Dept. of army, the CIA, Costelo Blanco, Costa E Silva, and who knows…more later.)
In the meantime, Sam Sexton (the 4th member of our group) purchased a customized B-26 from the W.G. Letourneau heavy equipment manufacturer. The plane was to be used for the hauling of titanium ore and to be used for travel since the B-25 could not accommodate more than 2 people.
Back when I was at the University, I formed a friend from Costa Rica. From time to time, he would be in the U.S. and would call me occasionally. Then came a call at Christmas time in mid-December 1965. He informed me he was employed by Taca Cargo Air Freight, a small air freight business in Belize, that the U.S. government was in the process of awarding a contract to Taca and he would advise purchasing a sizable amount of Taca stock at 27 cents a share, which I did. The price rose to $29 per share within 10 days. With my newfound small fortune, I made a down payment on some airplanes. The idea was to get the planes and outfit them for freight and strive to always have one plane in the air hauling the ore to Muskogee. That bubble burst in a short time, leaving me without the down-payment money and the airplanes. Such is life, as you will see shortly.
The 4 of us were on board the B-26 to travel to Rio de Janeiro to visit the Bureau of Mines to sign documents and ancillary material, which Ralph Dial allegedly had done, and on loading in the dark with 10” of snow on the runway I knew a couple of boxes were put on the B-26, but I just gave them a cursory glance. I was convinced that the 2 boxes were for lab equipment and other things and thought nothing more about it. The weather was freezing, visibility less than ½ mile, ceiling less than 500 feet and there was some question whether we could get airborne. Joe, the pilot, took off in the snow headed for Miami and became airborne in less than ½ the runway distance …and today I still don’t know the contents of those couple of boxes. Before we landed in Rio, we lost communication with the VOR that we had been flying by. Fortunately, we found a deserted landing strip which had been abandoned by some religious organization. This is where we believed the fellow that later testified against us said the tail number of the 26 was in fact on the tail, when it actually was on the fuselage, making it impossible for him to have seen. This issue will be in an upcoming Trial.
We had already spent over 7 figure dollars and thought as I said several pages ago that we had a perfect triumvirate. We had already started hiring men and at the same time thought everything was in perfect order and what we were doing would please the nervous Brazilian government. South American governments are always nervous because they are so unstable and prone for overthrows. Our flying military aircraft perhaps did make them nervous.
After arriving in Rio, it took 3 days to catch the Bureau Chief in his office. Every time we appeared the assistant would say “he must be here, there’s his coat hanging on his chair”. On the third day he showed up and WE SIGNED ALL DOCUMENTS, ANSWERED ALL QUESTIONS and departed for our hotel. Sam and Ralph (Dial) went sightseeing and Joe T. and I went back to the hotel. We were staying at the Trocadero on Copacabana Beach. I changed clothes and went downstairs and stopped on the street level observing what was happening in and around. Momentarily a man approached me stating he was from Oklahoma City and owner of a chain of nursing homes. After some small talk he asked me if I would like to play some golf at the country club at Ipanema. I told him I had no membership and he said you can use your credit card and I agreed. We went to the club, played a few holes and returned to the Trocadero, told the gentleman I enjoyed the afternoon and proceeded to go to my room. In hindsight, coupled with other incidents, I NOW BELIEVE HE WAS A SPY FOR SOME UNKNOWN ENTITY and not a good ole boy as he alleged.
Upon entering my room were two DFSP (FBI) agents who had ransacked the room, asked a couple of questions and escorted me to DFSP headquarters and to a room upstairs. The interrogator showed up promptly and the process began, which lasted the rest of that day, all night until 10AM the next day. The only pleasant thing that came from that difficult interrogation was my view of Corcovado. The interrogator’s name was General Rio Grandino Kruel. (That he was) When finally, the interrogation was over he announced to me that our trial was the next day and that I was to be at the Federal Court House at 10 AM. UPON THOSE ORDERS AN OFFICER AND 2 SOLDIERS APPEARED AND HUSTLED ME OFF TO THE TROCADERO. WHY WAS I INTERROGATED AND BELIEVE THE ONLY ONE OF THE FOUR?
The next day all 4 of us met at the Court House for the day’s event. THAT IS THE TIME WE BECAME AWARE THAT BRAZIL WAS UNDER THE FLAG OF A FULL-BLOWN DICTATORSHIP—COSTELO BRANCO/COSTA E SILVA. The Trial was obviously conducted in Portuguese, and we could only ferret out a few words as the proceedings went on. Sam Sexton, an attorney, did a magnificent job interpolating the proceedings. The witness for the government claimed he saw the tail number of the 26 on the tail and when he found out the tail number was on the fuselage he recanted. BRAZILIAN COURT ALLOWS ONE TO CHANGE THEIR TESTIMONY and on that note we all deduced that the party was over. Somewhere during the farce, it was said that I was the least guilty and getting only 4 years…but no guillotine and the others greater sentences. At that juncture the gavel hit the lectern and immediately we were in the hands of soldiers. I believe the 4 of us were separated and taken to different prisons. But first I want to say that the court ruled that we were smuggling and illegally importing some electronic goods and liquor. (Did those boxes have something to do with that ruling? I will never know because I thought all along they were filled with lab equipment…at the end I will summarize all the very curious events) With the huge dollar investments and equipment, as well as making ourselves known at the Bureau of Mines, and with the opportunity to make many millions, why would we be involved in such nonsense when we were legally buying a waste product that would generate huge amounts of tax revenue?
At the conclusion of the “trial” we were scooped up again and apparently sent to more than one prison, but not sure. I was taken into a partially underground cell block consisting of 7 cells. The whole cell block was steel, and I occupied #7. One of the guards pushed me in, slammed the steel door and departed. I observed where I was, and I thought “can I make it and for how long”? The cell had one filthy sink, a commode and a bunk with excrement worn into the fabric. Same description for the floor. I looked up and saw a slit of light at the ceiling and I could see a guard was posted. I knew I had to face the situation with a plan to survive regardless of the length of time. They slipped rice and black beans between the bars of the cell door once a day. The days went by oh so slowly, but I knew I was winning this mental battle.
On or around the 15th day I began to hear a rat-a-tat-tat and I pondered just what that was. The next day the answer to my question was forthcoming. Something zinged by my right ear close enough I could feel the heat and suddenly I knew it was a bullet from an M-6 Carbine. Rat-a-tat-tats continued all the days I was confined in this hellhole. Every time I heard the rat-a-tat-tat I laid down on the floor among all the excrement.
I believe it to be the 18th day at 4 AM (my watch was in my shoes) and four soldiers came and removed me from my cell and there was one other person that I think was my friend Joe Truhill. Later I was told that it was the FBI who had located us and was going to free us. I had my doubts. They whisked me off to Santa Dumont airport in Rio. I knew the airport because Joe and I had landed there a couple of weeks before and we were flying IFR and listening to a Portuguese air traffic controllers and were told there was 26 aircraft in the IFR pattern. Obviously, it was a severe storm. We landed in about 20 minutes and the runway we were cleared for ran right out into the ocean.
When we arrived at Santa Dumont airport, we were all together shortly and loaded on a DC-3 containing soldiers bound for an unknown destination. It was a five-hour flight before we were told it was Brasilia, the capitol of Brazil. For a while I thought the old tail dragger would not make it. There was a huge crowd awaiting our landing. How did they know the Americanos were on the DC-3 that was about to arrive from Rio? Immediately the guards took us to a building and put us together in a large room that appeared to be a BOQ (Batchelor’s Officers Quarters) with protected windows. We were a disheveled looking group. The crowd was not an admiring gathering.
Came one of the highlights of my life!
In minutes we all settled and hearing a gentle knock at the window was a man, wife, & 2 babies. They had huge smiles on their faces and to go with the smiles a large offering of home-cooked food and drink. What a wonderful surprise. The folks bringing that surprise were a Methodist Missionary and family. They were to visit us on several occasions, and I got to know Pastor Martin, for whatever reason, more than the other guys. I told Pastor one time when he was visiting that he was the only preacher I ever knew who carried an M-16…in jest of course. He knew everything happening in Brazil.
In the coming days we were transferred to a barn of a prison, located across the alley from the Brasilia Fire Dept. (Corpo de Bomberos). We then learned that there were two Commandants each serving 27 days on rotation, one good and one bad. The good one, Colonel Romano.
After we had been in this fortified shack a very few days, 4 soldiers came in and escorted me to their Combe (a modified Jeep) also called Gepe and drove me deep into the nearby jungle at night, all the while playing with their weapons and pointing them at me as if to shoot, all the while making fun of me. After a while they reversed their course, patted me on the back and returned to the prison. That was mental torture. Here again, the other 3 were never subjected to that maneuver. In a few days the prison presented us with one softball and a mitt and would allow us to go to the walled grinder to play catch. In a few days there appeared a young Brazilian orphan who was sleeping and eating with the firemen. Shortly he began to play softball with us and had a terrific right arm, and it wasn’t long until we started talking about bringing him back with us to the states. He was called Handolphe, not the real spelling but the pronunciation, unfortunately that was not to be.
In my unwelcome stay there were 3 other occasions to which I was invited and the other 3 were not favored. Colonel Romano and I got to be, as much as one could hope for, friendly. One day he came to the cell door (he addressed me as Mr. Meecutchen ) and asked me to come outside with him and his guard. He proclaimed he was going to the American Embassy and would like for me to accompany him and certainly I answered in the affirm! It was a pleasant experience and I met Herb Okin who was the Ambassador to Brazil (for us he was a zero) and shortly became a high-ranking official in the U.S. government—a unique experience. I am wondering if Colonel Romano was ordered to take me to the Embassy.
The next one of a kind was an invitation from the Masonic Lodge for me to attend a Lodge meeting. How the Brazillia general Masonic population knew I was a Mason I have never known. Colonel Romano told a lieutenant who was commander of the radio patrol to take me to the Lodge Hall in downtown Brazillia. The Lieutenant and 2 guards escorted me to the Lodge Hall in a Combe. When we arrived, we approached the door with a knock from the Lieutenant and the Lodge Tyler opened the door and reached to bring me in and the Lieutenant & guards started to come in, but the Tyler pushed them back and closed the door. It was a beautiful meeting and genuine friendships evolved. The name of the Lodge is Estrella de Brazil. (Star of Brazil) Now back to the prison with guards laughing because the three were shut out of the Masonic meeting.
As the days rolled by in the desert climate came another tap on the prison door and it was Colonel Romano for the second time, this time no accompanying guard and again he requested me (no order) to come with him. We strolled up the alley where the firetrucks were lined up and he said, “let’s get in this truck”, and after some small talk and serious conversation he looked at me with sorrow written on his forehead and eyes and said “Mr. Meecutchen, you must bring attention to your case”. With that statement I knew I was in for the long haul if I did not act. I returned to my cell. Certainly, I did not want to tell the Colonel I was long on developing a plan to escape.
Looking back for a moment, I had explained that there were 3 unusual happenings that occurred that the other 3 were not involved. Make that 4. During the middle of our incarceration in Brasilia, came a guard on a Sunday night commanding me to follow. I was escorted to an office in the Corpo de Bomberos headquarters. When entering a gentleman was standing dressed to the nines, top to bottom. I could see immediately that he was not off the farm. His English speaking was polished and impeccable, and he immediately began to ask me inconsequential questions, followed by me asking him why he was there? He evaded my simple questions and in 15 minutes he was gone. The same thing happened the following Sunday with a new man dressed in a similar fashion as the previous gentleman and was also polished, with the same questions. The one difference was he mentioned Nelson Rockefeller, and I don’t remember in what context. In my travels with Win Rockefeller, he had mentioned that the Rockefeller family had large land holdings stocked with cattle in Brazil. Of course, the two are brothers. Win told me about the Brazil holdings when we were at a Santa Gertrudis cattle sale in Baton Rouge. That was a stretch thinking they were in some way trying to help me. This is just one more unanswered question. For the second gentleman to mention Nelson Rockefeller in conjunction with his presence in Brasilia was off the wall.
I will remind you that the other 3 were not afforded the type of relationship I had with the Colonel. I still to this day do not know why.
Specifically, I was thinking when I was in Steel Cell Block #7 of escaping. When I looked up through the crack and could see the guard patrolling the area gave me great resolve. I can outsmart them. That kept my mind in a positive mode.
I began polling the 3 if they were interested in formulating a plan to depart this place. Dial and Sexton were not interested, period. I could tell Joe was interested and frankly I knew we were the two that could pull this off. In a short while Joe T. let me know he was in the game, and the plan shortly became a reality. As I had said before the prison was somewhat of a shack and I got out twice at night to see if I could find railroads, rivers, highways, etc. I got through the roof where all the communication wires that Brasilia was depending on were located. My second night out I had climbed through the hole in the roof and I crawled down the roof to the bottom and dropped off feet first, hit a piece of iron and made a loud noise and I went around the corner and met the guard I had bribed the day before when I got out, he had his automatic weapon drawn and we met face to face! I don’t know who was the most surprised, him or me? He very gingerly led me to the prison door and let me in. Strangely I never received punishment for my acts. The guard I had bribed was the guard that allowed us to make a successful escape…more later.
Joe called his wife Gerri and asked her to get in touch with Bud Hulsey in Dallas to fly his plane to Brasilia and make his way to our prison telling the prison personnel he was on a cattle buying mission as he did with every stop. (To legitimize his mission) He just wanted to stop by and visit the Americanos. Bud was a member of the old-line Hulsey family of North Dallas. I don’t think Bud would object for me referring to him as a playboy, and in this case, he later admitted he was just seeking excitement…and he got his fulfillment. His airplane was a sleek Mitsubishi twin and fast.
To complete the plan, I called Ramona, who was my first wife that passed away with a stroke at a young age. I asked Ramona to bring a bottle of Tranxene (in this case for sleep) and when she arrived to pick up a bottle of Jack Daniels. Somehow, she raised enough money for a round-trip ticket and down the road she and Gerri hooked up. (I suppose she received the money from Miss Clara, mentioned later.) They arrived safely and were treated very well by the Commandant and the rest of the command. Joe & I also told the girls that we would be getting their passports and hope they could pass through customs, and they made it fine. How sweet. With those two passports we crudely etched our names on them. A sidebar, we were required to show the passports only one time and that was one heck of a production to be told shortly.
Bud arrived in a few days. We were not far from the Brazillia airport, and we all took turns looking for that blue & white Mitsu. He came immediately to the shack prison and the Colonel allowed us out, with a guard of course, to visit with Bud. There was a bench at a little soft drink stand that allowed us to talk privately (Joe, Bud & I). As previously mentioned, Sexton & Dial did not want to make the move; therefore Joe & I conversed with Bud and made him aware of the plan. I believe Sam knew something was going on and was remotely aware of the plan. Sam was not physically able to run, and he had no passport.
When Bud was aware of all the details, he informed us that he had found a deserted religious airstrip (as you recall, the second one). Bud informed us he was staying in the old seaport town of Anapolis, Brazil and expected us to arrive before 12 A.M. He had overstayed his time at the prison and quickly departed and he was certainly a breath of fresh air.
On a moral note. I had a beautiful wife and 2, in my view, perfect children. I had thought numerous times that maybe I was being selfish in trying to escape and could possibly rue the day because the odds were so great against success. I concluded that Joe & I could win, and I could offer my family a beautiful life when I returned. At this juncture I was not counting on Sam being with us, he offered too many obstacles, but as you will see that all changed.
I have been remiss in stating Bud Hulsey had a companion and was not seen when they arrived in Anapolis and at the prison. His name was also Bud, he remained in the hotel during this unfolding drama. The two Buds are lifelong friends and differ only because one had a silver spoon, the other was lead.
A few days after Hulsey arrived and visited us, we pulled the cord. Two days before, as previously stated, it was determined that Joe and I were leaving, and Sam selfishly asked to join us even though he had n o input into creating the plan and absent a passport. As stated, he was a distinct liability, and the odds of our mission success were sorely jeopardized.
Before we departed, being accompanied by the guard I had bribed, I told the three, which was not needed, but had to be said, that under no uncertain terms would we not resort to any violence of any kind, and in the extreme meant killing the guard or any other force that opposed us. It is my understanding that my position on no violence has been lied about in some books, media and individuals! The books I am told were libelous.
We departed with the guard in tow at 5:00 PM. I secured a VW Cab, and we loaded in and proceeded not knowing we were traveling in the wrong direction. In the meantime, I was feeding the guard a mixed cocktail of Jack Daniels and Tranxene. He was reluctant to take the bait but the further down the road we got he loosened up. The plan was to take him to the red-light district at his request. When we arrived there, he refused to get out and go inside, so at that point, time being of the essence, we got him out of the Volks and tied him to a tree in front of the house and assured him someone would see him soon and untie him. He offered no resistance, and we assured him we meant no harm.
We reversed our course and went straight away to Brasilia and the driver let us out. We paid and thanked him for helping us, since he apparently knew who we were. On exiting the cab, I told the others to get behind a clump of evergreens and I would hail another cab. These cabbies must have thought we were underdogs! When we told him we wanted to go to Anapolis (125 KM) he never flinched and on the entire trip never entered into a conversation and never asked why we were going there. We saw some light flashing across the highway and suddenly we realized that was a check point! We could not believe our eyes that there was a guard on either side of the highway, sound asleep and the striped barrier lying down. The driver never spoke a word as we breezed through the check point. What a stroke of luck!
We miscalculated the distance between the 2 cities and were about halfway to our designated destination and it was already 12:30 AM and we were supposed to meet the two Buds at 12:00 AM at the hotel. We arrived at the hotel at 2 AM. Joe went in the hotel to get the two buds. They were frantic at our lateness but very happy that we made it. The two Buds and Joe came running out of the hotel and crawled into the overcrowded Bug and off to the deserted landing strip.
We encountered a torrential rainstorm and of course there were no field lights to guide us at the deserted airstrip. We arrived at the field in a short time. We all emptied our pockets of Brazilian money (cruzeiros) in the VW and thanked the driver and made a mad dash to the Mitsu. Loaded up, no walk around or engine check, cranked up both engines and Hulsey was the pilot and relied on the instrument panel to get us airborne. He was masterful. We broke out of the thunderstorm at 2,500 ft…I yelled out Yoo Hoo Mountain Dew. The flight plan dictated that we fly straight line course to Asuncion, Paraguay. We landed there in about 4 hours, refueled and noticed we were parked beside a Brazilian transport aircraft. No problem. After refueling we straight-lined to the northern tip of Argentina and across to Antofagasta, Chile, turned north flying along the coastline of Chile and soon out over the Pacific Ocean, turning north near the pacific coastline. Chile is a long country and as we neared Antofagasta, Chile, it was another place we almost met our peril. Truhill was flying and the airstrip was located near the coastline of the Pacific Ocean and Truhill made a tissue (perfect) landing, but only one thing was wrong, he and we made a wrong-based leg approach to the main runway. We had to again park at the control tower and were met with a bevy of what appeared to be Chilean military and not very happy. They demanded to see our passports, and this is where Sam’s presence nearly did us in. As previously stated, Sam had no passport, and my friend Joe Truhill did the juggling act. We had given him all our passports and Joe was the only one that spoke some degree of Portuguese. He exchanged the passports we had so many times the commanding officer appeared to be confused and finally allowed us to refuel and depart. Obviously the two Buds had legitimate passports and plenty of money, and Bud greased some palms, and we weren’t long getting out of there.
After we departed Antofagasta, we were soon to cross the Andes, some parts altitude 20,000 ft. Our airplane had a surface ceiling of 18,000 ft. We had one bottle of oxygen which we passed around. To cross the Andes safely in a light aircraft it was important in this case to fly around peaks. We got so close to some of the mountain tops we could see Andean Indians with baskets they were filling up with some kind of plant that they could chew which gave them extreme energy levels.
When we finally crossed the Andes, we were back above the Pacific Ocean and soon to enter Peruvian air space. We landed in Lima, Peru, refueled and pointed the nose of the airplane to the country of Columbia and within hours we would be landing at Bogota, Columbia. Without problems we refueled and again crossed the Andes at a lower elevation, and we could almost see Panama, figuratively. It was a long flight and we landed in Panama City in about 6 hours. When we arrived, we deplaned and went to the concession area of the terminal, to first have a short meal, then shave, and refuel the plane. We all felt free and for the first-time relaxation set in. The original plan was to fly to Tampico, Mexico and land on a beach. Sam, Joe and I would deplane and make our way to the U.S. as best we could. The two Buds would take off on the beach and fly to Dallas. The reason for the aggressive act was simply we did not know if there was an extradition agreement between the U.S. and Brazil. Out over the sea I was tuning in the radios trying to locate some VOR’s and suddenly I came upon a Razorback vs. Baylor football game and at that point I announced, we were going to change course and proceed directly to Brownsville, USA. We touched down in Brownsville in about 4 hours, nearly sundown and were met by a U.S. Custom Agent who no doubt was informed via the ATC we were the escapees, what kind of plane and what our ETA was. Remember I filed a flight plan to Tampico and cancelled it when we became airborne and then I filed the final flight plan for Brownsville, TX.
The Customs Agent was extraordinarily friendly, showed us where the telephones were, while looking inside the plane where he saw in the floorboard a Brazilian newspaper. At that point he asked the question “where you fellas coming from” and Hulsey quickly responded by saying we had been fishing in Panama. The Agent chuckled. I knew then there was no extradition treaty between the U.S. and Brazil.
I quickly went to one of the phones, called Ramona, told her to charter a twin and have the pilot to fly to Addison, TX and likely, we would be there before the charter. Something that made me very happy when we made it home to Fort Smith, my family and I were in our house and the phone rang, as it had many times before, I answered, and it was the Custom Agent in Brownsville informing me that all kinds of media had been calling the Customs agency asking where we were and all the minutiae. The agent stated that he told them nothing. That was pleasing and 2 days later I was blessed with another call from the agent. We landed in Fort Smith, AR at approximately 10:30 pm on a Saturday night, late October 1966. A substantial crowd had gathered, and I submit they were perhaps gawkers.
I would like to say at this point, my brother Dan made supreme efforts to go to Brazil and try to spring me. He was restrained and good sense took over. I was very pleased with his feelings for me…real brotherly love.
My lovely wife and 2 beautiful children were waiting for the twin to arrive. I got out of the plane and rushed over for hugs and kisses and a lot of love and emotion. Need I say, we quickly made our way home. I believe Sam spent the night in Dallas and all the others were Texans.
We arose on Sunday morning with phones ringing, and I was pleasantly surprised at the warmth that was conveyed. It was so very pleasing. At 1:00 pm on the dot I received a call from Mr. “Bum” Bright of Dallas, TX and future owner of the Dallas Cowboys. He made apologies for calling me so close to my arrival home and then posed the question, could he send his airplane to Fort Smith and bring me back to Dallas to recreate the same group of people that were at his home December 1965 for pictures and questions for me. Some of the attendees were Congressman Joe Poole of Dallas who became a very good friend, 2 Congressmen from No. Carolina, the editor of the Dallas Morning News and of course Joe Truhill, etc. Even though the 2 Buds and Sam were not at that December 1965 meeting they were invited and were there. The original group that was at Mr. Bright’s home in December 1965 was a meeting of some excitement and questioning on how we planned to get the Titanium ore back to Fan steel in Muskogee, OK and of course during the discussion were served food & drink. At this point Mr. Bright’s question was moot, but we did explain how we had planned to transport the ore by using a small fleet of airplanes.
Congressman Poole asked me what he could do for me and my family. I responded by telling him and the other 2 No. Carolina congressmen that I wanted to go to Washington, DC, go to the Halls of Congress, get in the well and plead my case that I, Joe H. McCutchen, was not involved in any illegal activities. Congressman Poole immediately said that I could come to Washington, and he would arrange for me to speak anytime that I desired, but he also said “Joe, there are those who believe in you and those that don’t, and you will never change th e others’ minds”! I retorted that he was exactly right, and I should forget that pipe dream and go about finding a way to start a little pharmacy that would generate money that would help me begin to be a productive citizen and procure the good things in life that my family deserved. Mr. Bright had his plane and pilot ready to take me back to Fort Smith. I would be remiss if I did not mention that the 2 No. Carolina congressmen had introduced Gerri & Ramona to the Mafia for possible help during the fiasco. I do not know how many were present. Their response was that South America did not hold the wealth that they dealt in, therefore they would not get involved, if it were anywhere but South America they would help in a minute.
Financially I was broke. Additionally, I so dreaded going to the First National Bank to see if I was worthy of a loan. Mr. Carl Robbins had been my banker for several years and what a sweet man. I chose to go into the bank at the back entrance because I knew the occupants in the bank would be whispering and gawking at this international escape artist. I walked up to the desk of Mr. Robbins, and he looked up and said, “Good morning, Joe, have a seat and I’ll be with you in a moment”. He had a lady customer he was attending to. Shortly he asked me to come to his desk and have a seat. He said, “Joe, what can I do for you this morning” in a soft, non-condescending voice, truly a man of breeding. I responded that I wanted to open a little pharmacy in Cavanaugh (a Fort Smith addition). He looked at me and said, “how much do you need?” and I said “Mr. Robbins, I need $9,500, that’s all that I can pay back.” And Mr. Robbins quickly answered, “Joe you can’t open a store for $9,500, when you need more money just call me”. What a confidence builder, a real polished gentleman.
I left the bank swollen with confidence that I certainly needed at that point. I never had to ask Mr. Robbins for more money. My pharmacy went well, and I was able to recover in a short time and pursue interests that I could control. In time, I was able to provide numerous amenities for my family which they most certainly deserved. Very quickly I had reached financial liquidity.
In a couple of weeks after my visit with Mr. Robbins, I was downtown at the Greyhound Bus Station where the Republicans were holding a gathering. This was when the now Gov. Rockefeller spied me in the audience and gingerly nodded for me to come forward and I did. In a slightly scolding tone, with a sly grin on his face, said “Joe, you made a mistake” and I replied,” I certainly did Governor”.
Shortly after my visit to the bank I got word from my CIA Agent friend, Benny C., who was at home and on furlough from his 2-year assignment on the border of Belarus and Russia. I immediately called him and asked him if he would go to the CIA Brazilian desk in DC and ask what they knew about my and the others Brazilian experience. As Benny related to me on a phone call the next day, they told him to get out, keep his mouth shut and never come back, all being laced with expletives. Benny was shaken badly and when he called me his voice was unsteady and I got the feeling that he thought I was guilty, and the conversation was over shortly. I truly am sorry that I lost such a terrifically nice person.
I was concerned about what the Agency told him while he was there and his mental state. Benny was a tough guy, his mental state caused concern. I went to Washington with the intention to visit Benny. He had married a European woman connected with royalty and was a difficult person I was told. When I arrived, I initially stopped at Pat Buchanan’s home where I attended a campaign party. I drove up and down the street and finally parked outside Benny’s house and I could see activity in the lighted house and sat there a while, but I just could not get up the nerve to go in and visit. I was afraid I might cause an upheaval and I immediately turned back to Arkansas. Benny died shortly after my trip to DC. I have often wondered if what occurred in the Agency office had any effect on Benny’s death.
A few years later my wife Ramona at a very early age was debilitated by several strokes and she passed in 3 ½ years, first in rehab which was totally unsatisfactory, I had carpenters build a hospital room for her in Lisa’s (my daughter) old bedroom in which Ramona lived for 1 ½ years. At that juncture my 24 hour a day caregivers had worn themselves out, they were magnificent in their outpouring of love & care, but became exhausted. The caregivers were my Cavanaugh Methodist minister’s wife and daughter. There was no other choice than to put her in a nursing home because she was totally impaired mentally & physically and I was pleased with the care and visited her every day even though she did not know or respond to me, eventually she passed away.
Back before the Brazilian experience, when I was still active in the capacity as a minor stockholder and a practicing pharmacist locally at Law’s Drug in Phoenix Village, I had a group of customers that you might choose to condemn and that was two Madams and the ladies that worked for them. When they first entered the store, they came back to me in an apologetic manner asking if I would extend credit to them on a weekly basis and I said I will extend credit for one week to see if you are good for your word. They became excellent customers and very prompt with their payments. I tell you this simply because one of the Madams, Miss Clara, came to our residence at night while I was incarcerated and would bring Ramona, food, clothing and some money. She told Ramona she came at night because she did not want to embarrass her. I thought this was a beautiful act, particularly in view that we as a family were active members in the First Methodist Church in Fort Smith and not one single member offered a kind phone call, prayer, or a visitation. On that note we never returned to that church. As a sidebar, months after I returned, I received a call from Miss Clara explaining she was in financial straits, and could I help her? Of course I did.
I believe this to be another place to ask the question….Who took over the titanium ore business that we had almost brought to fruition and is now making millions upon millions?
The New York Times (one of the multitudes of reporting global media) stated we were convicted of smuggling and no import permits. Again, I will state that we went to the Bureau of Mines 3 days in a row before the Director showed up. Each day we went to his office and an underling would tell us, “He must be here, that’s his coat hanging on the chair”. On the third day we filled out all the necessary paperwork in the presence of the Director.
The New York Times reported that the two boxes contained whiskey and electronics. I did not drink whiskey, Joe did not drink whiskey, Sexton did not drink whiskey and I don’t believe Ralph Dial did. Dial had been fraternizing with a European woman during the short time I had known him. He was with the woman in Fort Smith during the week before we departed. I do not believe Dial had the money to procure the contents in the two boxes, but his lady friend gave all signs that she did.
With the time I have spent on this Odessey analyzing everything in detail I have resigned myself to believing that there were, aside from analytical equipment, there were some illegal products in the 2 boxes. The boxes were small, perhaps holding 2 TV’s and a case of whiskey and the way they were put in the fuselage indicated they were very light. That tells me that the merchandise in the boxes were not for sale, and I further conclude that Dial and the woman were responsible for the illegal material, but I would not count out Sexton.
It certainly appears, without a doubt, that Dial, his woman and maybe Sexton let Truhill and I also take the fall. And Sexton was willing to jeopardize my plan asking if he could go at that point on the attempted escape.
Let me say, there were too many ironies that had occurred that made this venture extremely dangerous. Some of which I enumerated throughout this Odessey, e.g. the Fan Steel lie—we landed on runway 18 and there was the big Allied Van Line waiting with a professional driver who knew precisely where to take the titanium ore. Fan Steel denied every hearing of us, knew nothing of the arrangement of purchasing all the titanium ore that we could produce. The conduct of the CIA and their treatment of long-term meritorious service to the Army and the Agency, the individual standing at the front door of the Trocadero Hotel, unknown to me, undoubtedly was an FBI or DFSP agent. Then there were the two gentlemen calling on me on two successive Sundays, dressed impeccably to the nines, asking me nebulous questions but obviously had an impact. I’m now sure that Colonel Romano was ordered to contact me and what he knew made him very nervous, the reason he took me out of my cell, and we walked to a Copa de Bomberos fire truck and asked to get in and quickly said, “Mr. Meecutchen, you must bring attention to your case.” I believe he felt he had to alert me to something of some nefarious significance.
Just a thought regarding the crime. The two boxes, as stated before, were light and small (3×4) and I am sure the boxes did not contain enough saleable merchandise, leaving only for personal use. This seemed to be the only hypothesis that makes sense! Therefore, to me making such a large issue out of the above maybe there was a greater reason for the arrest. I am thinking that we should have been fined a fairly large amount, i.e. $5,000 each and that would relieve the expense of maintaining us, generate tax revenue, hiring Brazilian citizens.
In the matter of fines vs. incarceration in a civilized society the putative position I’m sure would-be fines, not 4-6 years of incarceration for an alleged offense such as ours. I believe the cargo had a value of less than $1,000.00, not including my lab equipment. The outgoing Dictator, Costa d Silva and the incoming Dictator Costelo Blanco were quoted liberally in Brazil’s magazine El Globo (a copy of our National Enquirer) in another manner sealed our fate.
So, the big, big question…. Who is benefiting from the many mounds of titanium ore?
Soon after my return home I launched back into my campaign of trying to make Americans understand the dangers that lurk from practicing unbridled immigration, legal & illegal. 20 or more years ago, I wrote that America had become an international illegal dumping ground. I have seen that expression used in the last couple of months three times, but not by me… I am glad.
My return to fighting the illegal multi-nationals was for the most part writing articles, unfortunately many, many of my articles were lost in a computer crash & hacked twice. Our website is still full of many articles. The website can be located at www.arkansasfreedom.net A number of years later a former Marine Sgt (Jim Gilchrist) and a newspaper editor (Chris Simcox) were trying to form an organization large enough to seal off a segment of the southern border preventing the illegal invasion in that sector. I received a call from the retired Marine Sgt asking if Barbara and I would help in securing a sector of the Naco line on the Arizona border with Mexico. He and his partner were calling it The Minuteman Project, April 2005. I quickly gave him an affirm. In the coming days there was a massive response to the Sgt’s plan. As a few days passed I suggested that we enlist some of the members in the Minuteman Project to fly their planes to patrol our segment of the Naco line. I was going to use my plane and thought if we could get 4-5 more that would be sufficient. It was not long before we ascertained that the strong winds on the line would probably be quite dangerous not only from the wind, but the Mexican army was quartered no more than a mile away, therefore we quashed the plan.
Our Headquarters was the Tombstone Tumbleweed newspaper, and every individual was questioned as to why they were there and to determine if there were any troublemakers present. The interviews were done in a very professional manner. Numbers began to swell; some say on the first day, April 1st. There were between 800 and 1,000, that includes all the media, national and international. Several attendees were interviewed, I was interviewed by the Washington Times, CNBC, CNN, CH. 4 Tucson, L.A. Times, the Christian Science Monitor, a professor from U. of Ariz., Time Magazine and some Mexican media including Telemundo & La Voz.
There were speeches by Jim Gilchrist, Bay Buchanan, Frosty Wooldridge, Tom Tancredo and an Arizona State Senator.
On April 2 we, the volunteers, attended a rally on the Naco line Border Patrol Station displaying our patriotic signs and singing and having a good time.
On April 3, we assembled at the Palominas Trading Post, specifically to receive our assignments and we were ready to go and show the Mexicans our mettle. We enlisted to serve 30 days. Barbara and I would go again for a second encampment.
It was so exciting to see hundreds of older people manning the line, sprinkled with a few youngsters. I can still see the seasoned, mostly products of the military, 70 & 80 years old. Some with pickups backed up next to the line, sitting on lawn chairs in the beds of their trucks. Exciting to see who American patriots really are, as if we didn’t know. We almost sealed that border off which was approximately 5 miles in length, initially the border patrol was mildly upset but as the days went on, they appreciated our presence because we nearly shut that border down. We were there 24 hr. per day. We patrolled in a regimented military manner.
As word spread about our success, President George Bush called us vigilantes! That one statement exemplifies the truth, i.e. The DC Beltway wanted no part in shutting down the border, which is true today!! Self-serving Gutless Traitors!
Barbara handled the donations, which came in large amounts, $1,000 checks and down to a $1.00. That $1.00 donation was as important as the grand, it made her weep because it was from a disabled veteran who wanted to be there to help and an inspiration to us. Barbara also did some interviews with reporters over the telephone. I did most of the reporting to the Arkansas media. My duty on the Naco line was from 2:00pm to 10:00pm. Barbara would take me to the line and come after me at night by herself. The distance was significant, at the very least 35 miles.
My assignment changed at the end of the second week, and I was placed in the Coronado Mountains. My companions were a lady from California and her husband (Sharrie “radar ears” & Arnie “radio man”) who passed away shortly after the Project. During the night she said, “I hear them coming down the trail, you must go down to the bridge” and each time I ran down the mountain and I found nothing, and I was about to give up when the next time she said they are coming down the mountain, this time she was right. The illegals are trained to walk like Indians, very carefully and quietly. She punched me and said, “get down to the bridge” and again I ran to the bridge and crossed the highway and flushed out 75-100 illegals who then scattered across the desert floor. Out of the net, we only caught one due to a mix up in co-ordinates by the helicopters. Later that evening we moved to another location in the dark and quietly waited. In a short time, there was rustling in the Joshua trees. I then jumped up, pulled out my flashlight because it was so dark, and as they came within 20 feet of where I was standing, I issued a call, Alto muchachos! Followed by Aqui, pronto! The 13 dutifully came forward and I turned them over to the sheriff. Within minutes I was attacked by an ACLU thug by the name of Ray Ybarra with whom we had trouble before. He tried to tackle me, and someone pulled him off. After the miniature scuffle the Sheriff proceeded to arrest me and told me to report to the Courthouse in Sierra Vista the next morning. To that I called Joey McCutchen, my attorney son, to call off the dogs, which they did. It’s as if the Sheriff was welcoming these interlopers.
Barbara and I had driven our Sports Lexus to the project and that night the ACLU stuck a large screw in one of the tires valued at $750. They were run-flat tires which enabled us to drive to Tucson and get a new one. So much for this Marxist/Jewish operation. After the two ACLU events my son Joey flew in to spend a few days at the Project.
About the 3rd week the two innovators of the Project, Jim Gilchrist & Chris Simcox were vaccinated by the DC swampers. Barbara & I and newly made friends Field Coordinator Mike Gaddy and Arizona Prop 200 Kathy McKee tried to advise the two founders that it would be sudden death to engage in conversation with an outfit named Deiner who wanted to take over the Project. Mike (who became a very close friend) and I have had considerable experiences, all bad, with the DC Establishment. Our advice was wasted and by the 4th week the project had fallen into the hands of the Deiner Group and the funds disappeared in smoke.
The 4th week we returned to Arkansas and both of us knew the border contiguous with Mexico could be secured without much effort by the military and permission by the national government. The U.S. has been undergoing an illegal invasion for 65 years and that falls within the jurisdiction of the U.S. Army and other branches of the military. I stand by that number because that’s the number of years I have been fighting the illegal cancer…unbridled mass immigration, legal and illegal.
One of my favorite persons at the watch was a fella I nicknamed “Bulldog”! (Robert Reep of Amarillo) as described before his position was next to me on the Naco line, he backed his old pickup truck, got his camp chair, placed it in the pickup’s bed and would sit there stoically with his rifle placed across his legs, and always a big straw hat. Very friendly. Barbara & I still hear from him.
We returned for a Minuteman muster for the second time June 30, 2005, and it was called “A muster for Independence Day, July 4.” We were in Three-Points, AZ and several volunteers were already there. The VFW ladies provided home-cooked meals for the volunteers. The shifts were from 8 PM to 8 AM at various locations on private land and daytime we drove “The Laundry Line” to spot and remove various items placed near the roads that were used by illegals for alien or drug pick up points, etc. The patrols were in tandem. Through those drives we were able to spot and pick up many items, including gloves, shirts, ski masks, etc. hoping to put some snags in the coyotes (traffickers) and illegals travel operations.
We were there when an illegal came onto the highway desperate for water, which we gave him. We called the
border Patrol and he finally arrived with more water and Barbara gave him her crackers & chicken salad she had just purchased at the Sasabe General Store in Mexico.
On another day Barbara and I passed an illegal man just walking down the road, our radio would not reach our fellow Minutemen and the phone signal would not work, so we turned around and followed at a distance knowing one of our Minutemen would be coming soon. Finally, the Minuteman leader Freddy Puckett arrived as did the Border Patrol because they heard our radio calls. As always, the MM provided water & food to exhausted people. The volunteers found a dead illegal a few feet away in the cactus that day.
On our last day as we headed back to Tucson, we saw the BP rounding up a group of young illegals, approximately 10-13 years of age and no adult with them. The U.S. exploits these young people and turns them in as slave labor and middle-class American taxpayers pay their costs…healthcare, education, crime, food, etc. etc. and then we suffer the awful effects of Balkanization as you readily observe today.
April 14, 2024, Tyson foods shuttered a plant in Iowa that employed 1200 American citizens. Within days they were back at their old illegal game that they are masters at playing, i.e. hiring cheap labor illegals who had just recently crossed our southern border. Nothing new here by Tyson’s and many others.
After those two projects I have written many articles on the website of www.arkansasfreedom.net
I have been dismayed and depressed at the lack of Constitutional courage displayed by the American government. They have presented themselves as depraved, self-serving dolts. The Democrats are a deadly force top down to the last 2-bit bureaucrat destroying our Western Civilization and American Culture. Democrats fight for power and use any tactics whether lawful or not, e.g. the vile attacks on President Donald Trump.
The megalomaniac President Joe Biden and his funding NGO’s (Non-Governmental Organizations) enable the destruction of our Southern Border allowing 12-14 million illegals of all denominations to invade our Republic and in so doing he also is using the U.S. Airforce to fly illegal foreign nationals and deposit them in sanctuary cities during nightfall. President Biden has spent 40 years on the taxpayer teat that has emboldened him to think he has no reason to abide by legal statutes. There is estimated to be 150 countries represented in these invasions. Do you realize that this republic has become a nation of non-English speaking nomads?
America was a White Republic and sparsely represented by Blacks who have not been treated with respect for a lot of America’s history. But since the 1950’s the deficit in money and unearned largesse has been made up for in huge amounts of welfare dollars. (Blacks will not agree) Think $Trillions. Now we are undergoing a massive invasion, most of which began 75 years ago, to use the word massive again, handouts compliments of middleclass Americans that will never be paid for in American dollars. Remember, I first learned about illegal immigration in 1947, firsthand.
Once our nation was a shining star, but since the 1960’s our culture has been eroded by not securing its national borders, if so, would have guaranteed Whites would remain the guiding influence, which means innovations, innovative minds, hard work, understanding of freedom, the rule of law, and the Constitution and understanding it. We now are a nation of perhaps about 49% White. Ask yourselves if you would enjoy the nomads from those 150 countries to hold sway over you and I; since they have no background of what a Constitutional government demands and how it produces ever improving standards of living. With a controlled immigration system, we could benefit from international immigration by allowing talented migrants to enter. (Biden and his handlers are rapidly destroying the freedom-based America). We now have a collection of foreign nationals that round out to about 150 million residing in the U.S. and when the dam spills over, they will be more than 50% of the population, if Biden’s border policies remain in place in the coming 2 years the tipping point of 51% will have been achieved. Now, with their ever-increasing numbers they realize when the dam spills over the nomads will rule. Put another way, when the numbers are right? They are not fools, who will rule? Unfortunately, it appears that Americans are the fools.
As I have been arguing since the late 1960’s that we should have a minimum of a 5-year moratorium on all immigration. Instead, the buffoons in DC have spent us into bankruptcy, funding their own self-service and those postage-stamp hostile countries. (Iraq, Iran, Israel, Jordan, Egypt, Mexico, ad infinitum.)
The present administration is spending $1 Trillion every 100 days. The Biden administration is planning on spending in this year 2024 $7.2 Trillion! We now have a national debt of closing in on $40 Trillion and you citizens continue to re-elect all the self-serving criminals, decade after decade. Now, couple the debt to global wars that the national government is involved in, and this tragedy can never be paid for again in dollars & cents. So, you say, how so? The answer. Are you aware of what the brutal U.S. governmental agents are presently extorting from American citizens while extending their beastly tenacles that wrap around the globe? With this in mind, the President’s handlers will mandate all government agencies to extend the total depth of their theft of American’s personal property. It will be done on a percentage basis and happen rapidly before Americans know what happened and what to do. There will be no negotiations. Disagree and you will pay dearly!
In my opinion Ukraine involvement is Biden’s payoff for the millions he and his family have pulled in from Ukraine. For example, April 9th, 2024, the Republican congress sent $138 million and additionally fighter aircraft and heavy artillery with shells and in cash outlays and this comes to well over $300 Billion since the Ukraine disaster began. I will not discuss the politics of these disasters other than to say again, this gangster running the country has allowed 12+ million illegal aliens to invade our republic in 3 ½ years. April 24, 2024, Ukraine was given another $57 Billion and Israel and Tiawan will in some manner split $38 Billion, totaling the $95 Billion in 4/24. In May 2024 Biden and Congress presented Ukraine with another $150 Million and shells for long range howitzers and more to come. This is compliments of a Republican Congress!
Senator John Boozman, in one of his nebulous offerings per the $57 Billion hand-out, “It is not only Camden, AR (Lockheed) but this is a national security issue”. Looking carefully at his statement you can readily see money & power are the issues and how does this buffoon claim that our nation is going to receive any security from these handouts? Does he not understand that America has no friends?
Earlier in this piece I wrote about how Barbara & I defeated Michigan Republican U.S. Senator Spencer Abraham, obviously we were too late. Spence is the fellow who orchestrated mass immigration of Muslims, Houthis, Palestinians, Hamas, Hezbollah, and many other mid-eastern Arabic tribes residing in the United States. Dearborn and Flint Michigan are the Muslim capitals of the U.S.
So, what have Americans received from Sen. Abraham’s massive importation of mid-eastern Arabs? April 9,2024 the Muslims had a rally in Dearborn, MI and the battle cry was “DEATH TO AMERICA”. The day before the Muslims or some other Arabic sect took over the Congressional Building (April 8, 2024), same battle cry “DEATH TO AMERICA”. Two days later the throngs of mid-eastern tribes paralyzed bridge traffic in Brooklyn, Chicago, Seatle, and San Francisco. At this time the demonstrators had added “Kill a Soldier”. Republican U.S. Senator Tom Cotton said, “the citizens of these respective cities should have physically thrown them in the water”. Blocking roadways is an ultra-criminal act! Blocking Hospitals! Police! Fire!
An insult, shame and an embarrassment to allow these 2 sand-dwellers to dirty our landscapes by waging their 1,000’s of years wars on America’s shores, while at the same time belittling Americans.
Jews (This is meant to be awe-inspiring) own or control 90% of all commercial activities in the U.S. while composing only 6-7% of the national population. With these astounding statistics, why aren’t the American Jews subsidizing Israel, it’s their people? It is an afront to all colonial Americans and our government is equally guilty of being co-conspirators in such disgustingly criminal behavior.
What has occurred is that mid-eastern Arabs and the Israelis are continuing the 1,000’s of years their religious war (which will never end) on American soil! In the meantime, Biden was funding Israel with more guns, artillery and money for the Palestinian massacre. These folks in both houses of government are fond of exclaiming “Israel is our friend”! (Out of fear of the Jews) Ask the sailors of the U.S. Intelligence ship USS Liberty if they think Israel, is a friend. The Israelis bombed and strafed the U.S. ship for 6 hours, this occurred in 1967, no retaliation by the U.S. That cowardly Israeli attack butchered 34 American seamen and wounded 171. Also ask those folks on that ship in the Red Sea that survived the Israeli’s recent bombing and killing Iran’s top military officers. That ship was bound for Gaza with food & survival supplies which never arrived. Israel has led brutal attacks on innocent Palestinians who from day one had a dog in this present ongoing religious forever war as their country has been conquered and downsized to just Gaza and the West Bank. Israeli President Netanyahu at the outset on this part of the war stated that he would not rest until all Palestinians were killed. I believe this is called genocide. In 1985 Israeli Jonathan Pollard was caught with highly sensitive U.S. security documents and was sentenced to life in prison and turned loose several years later because of Jewish pressure on both houses of congress and the President. So, when you hear a politician or preacher speak to the fact (lie) that Israel is our friend, you will know how corrupt Israel is and has always been. Ask them what Israel has done for us as a “friend”? Since the above was written, they bombed a hospital and another ship killing several children and adults, and not a word of disgust by the American government, which incidentally is filled with Zionists.
I pose the question, on May 5, 2024, Senator Chuck Schumer engineered another hand-out of $100 Million to benefit, i.e. protect Jewish and Muslim synagogues and mosques in the U.S. I would like to remind Senator Schumer it is unconstitutional first to divvy up monies that the U.S. does not have and unconstitutional to fund religious entities, i.e. Jews vs. Muslims. Who are the fighters for Hamas? Are they Palestinians? It is being posted that Netanyahu is in cahoots with Hamas with the idea this will split Palestinian leadership.
A very brief history of how Israel came about. England ruled Palestine due to the Balfour Treaty. In 1947 President Harry Truman and David Ben-Gurian (Israel’s first President to be) hacked out of Palestine what was to become the illegitimate state of Israel. Immediately Jews began emigrating to the new illegal state. A short time later the Jews began to burn Palestinian homes, and their olive groves and drive them toward Gaza. As Israel became more populated with Jews, they began to herd Palestinians to encampments where they are today, down by the sea in Gaza and part of the West Bank. I would say that the above gives the Palestinians some degree of legitimacy in their unending ill will toward Israel, what say you?
Within the bounds of the United States the Jews are constantly interfering with Constitutional Government, blocking legislation by lawsuits, and lobbying (the most powerful and feared lobby in DC is AIPAC, American Israel Public Affairs Committee), and organizations that are libelous, liars, spies, etc. etc. e.g. some of the most powerful ones are the Southern Poverty Law Center, ACLU, AEI, & Zionist Organization of America.
When foreign nationals, legal and illegal, arrive in our nation and immediately lay claim they never will give up their culture from which they left. This is America today and balkanization is in high gear!
And observe what we have today, 2 sand dwellers fighting their age old religious civil wars on our shores!
What has brought about the destruction of American Culture, Christianity & Western Civilization? Who invented Communism…Marx, Engels, Lennin, Stalin, Trotsky, (as a sidebar Marx & Lincoln were pen pals as Marx & Engels wrote nearly 500 articles for the New York Tribune 1851-62) Also who invented The Frankfurt School (Which moved from Germany in 1934 due to Nazi control. They were welcomed to Colombia Univ and NYC) which produced Cultural Marxism…Adorno, Lukacs, Horkheimer, Fromm, Freud, Gramsci, & Marcuse with their “Long March through the Institutions” (SUCCESSFULLY) which created Political Correctness, multiculturalism, sexism, feminism, racism, white supremacy, death to the family unit & morality, D.E.I, Diversity, CRT, Rainbow Coalition, BLM, Antifa, etc. Funding now provided in the main by George Soros, Klaus Schwab, Bill Gates, ad infinitum. Then from 1966 there was the Cloward-Piven strategy concocted by two Columbia U. professors whose goal was to Fundamentally Transform America (Remember that’s what Obama said when elected President) by overwhelming the welfare system until it collapsed…aided by “The 1965 Immigration Act”, the 2008 Financial Crisis, and subsequent Border Crises which led to massive illegal alien invasions.
What do these people all have in common? They are all Jews. The ultimate goal is to wipe out the white race. Aside from taking over all influential institutions, mass immigration is being used to implement their goal. The illegals are coming here for a piece of the pie (not to be an American) and as they always do they continue to want a bigger piece of the pie. Now what to do, keep in mind we are pushing very close to a $40 Trillion debt which is impossible to pay off, as the standard of living plummets and the morass of parasites keep coming from all over the globe.
There has been a laundry list of Israeli (Jewish) spying on the United States and claims are steadily fed to U.S. citizens that Israel is our ally.
All the above fall under the heading DISPARATE IMPACT THINKING.
What is so chilling about the above I will announce 2 examples. The American Medical Association has removed the standard Mcat test for admission into medical schools and reduced it to nothing more than a study in social issues. This is tailor made to accommodate the Black population which is 13% of the national population. This simply means that there must be 13% of the medical classes be Black and ultimately become physicians. Some medical schools have done away with all achievement tests.
The same scenario exists for law schools. Now you know why there are so many black attorneys, judges, prosecutors, law clerks, etc.
April 24, 2024, was the first week of President Donald J. Trump’s dealing with an incredulous trial and persecution brought out of the hatred, jealousy and fear of the outcome of the presidential campaign of 2024,
The jury of April 16, 2014, composed of 7 members at that time, are all democrats and made their feelings known that they profoundly hate Trump, and they continually put lies on social media and mainstream.
He was ultimately convicted on all 34 counts by the Marxist Communist Cabal.
If candidate Trump is not elected President of the U.S. coming this November our republic cannot and will not survive as a Constitutional Republic—not a Democracy. It’s the Republic!
Joe McCutchen—Colonist
www.arkansasfreedom.net