Springfield Ohio Post Underground - Page 2

This story can be checked within the San Diego News, incident location: Motel 6 2nd Street (if my memory serves correct).

I was met by a well-dressed black agent and given a key to a room.

Later that same evening at least two persons approached me from behind while I walked to the room on the second floor.

My instincts at 2am caused me to be acutely attentive to the strange rustling and shuffling of steps fast approaching from behind.

Picking up my pace and getting the room door to close behind me did not make the perpetrators go away. I guess that they had some fuel that needed to disappear now that the target was in the room.

The "whoosh!" I heard after having closed the motel room was actually an instant fire which I could see through the peep hole!

But I was so exhausted that I ignored it and laid down to rest. I hoped it would just go away but then came the alarms. Motel 6 has one of the most annoying fire alarms you've ever heard!

So everybody was coming into the hallway yelling, "Fire!" and "Get out of the building!". Of course the fire was directly on the other side of my door so I ended up having to jump from the 2nd story window over to an adjoining balcony, that was caddy-corner to my room.

Luckily an honest person caught my solitary bag and did not take off with it.

A large portion of the motel would be evacuated and many of us were questioned.

I was loaded into a police car off to the San Diego Police Station, no reason given.

And not proud to say, but I was so tired that I fell asleep in their car.

In fact I was so tired that I refused to wake up when they were trying to unload me at the entrance of the jail/police station.

They were telling me to get out, but it was almost impossible for me to stand let alone walk (no, I wasn't intoxicated, I don't drink and was just really tired).

This story ends with them not wanting me in the jail. They were trying to unload me at the entrance to their jail. I eventually was helped out.

Motel 6 has a security camera system and I'm relatively certain that the extended wait time in which the officer's went into the back office room was to watch the videos. Maybe they thought whoever those people were that tried to douse me were doing the world a favor or something. Or maybe it wasn't worth pursuing because of some other reason I'm not aware of.

To the extent of my knowledge, nobody was ever charged for anything, but I may have seen at least one of those involved. Amongst the crowd of everyone that had to exit the motel, a tall black guy stood out in the corner of my eye (there was an equal amount of blacks to whites so this is not to imply that he was unique other than the fact that he and I locked eyes. He caught my eye more than once as he waned between being obscured by another individual, then reappearing staring intently in a hard way at me. It may not sound like much to go on, but there would have been no reason for that man to know me otherwise.

This story hasn't any murders, and is simply left here for history-sake.

After some time being interrogated by the Secret Service agent who informed me that he could (would?) make my life hard (because I had no freaking clue what the kid was talking about; I remember him asking about Clinton and the affair but would be clueless that the ball was already put into motion shortly after he left). Later a visit from the FBI occurred (with plans for a second visit by the FBI), and then still later the Commonwealth of Kentucky Court gave me an ultimatum. It wasn't actually a choice so after signing a document attesting that I'd never come through the State of Kentucky ever again (or I'll do Five years in their prison), they eventually released me.

I feel sorry for all those people that have to actually stay and live in Kentucky though. ";-)

So I literally walked out of Kentucky before the FBI agents were able to meet with me the second time. The first time, the two FBI agents called me into a different cell from where the secret service agent had met with me a few days earlier.

I was told to have a seat where they asked me questions, one question was whether or not I had ever owned a van (I think they said it was white). They showed me a picture of the suspect they alleged was me. When I saw the picture, I wondered if it could be me. Involuntarily I did something that surprised them (and me in retrospect), I slowly rose from the table with the photo in hand and walked away leaving the two agents to look at each-other as I walked to the bathroom in the holding cell (which had a door and walls all around with the exception of the door that had a small wired window).

Inside, I looked at me in the polished metal mirror. I looked at the photo. I may have asked myself, "could this person really be me?".

I looked back at me, and then I held the photo up to the mirror with my face side-by-side the photo, when suddenly it hit me. INVOLUNTARILY I RETURNED exclaiming, "WAIT A MINUTE, MY NOSE ISN'T THAT BIG!". It appeared to upset me that someone could think my nose was so big. No! this person is obviously not me.

Somehow these FBI guys were led to believe I was some sort of a Timothy McVeigh, or a killer, or maybe they were just planning their next patsy. They brought up the name of a woman in Tennessee who owned the Owl's Roost RV Campground in Tennessee, and asked questions about involvement in criminal activities I wasn't privy of. I was clueless as to what could make them so interested in me, surely I wasn't that huge of a problem on the planet. Of the period they were inquiring about, I related to them that at one point a Tennessee Sheriff had tried to convince a park associate to sell Pot to me, but I did not perform well (I didn't buy it, nor was I the person that proposed any such transaction. Apparently the entire plot was brought to you by the "good guys"). I went on to state how I wrote a politely flaming letter to the sheriff that orchestrated the aggressive attempt against me. I told of another incident when later an officer "conducted a traffic stop" of my dump truck, and forced myself and the worker passenger out of the vehicle, where the officer brought up the issue of the letter I had written, stating that it had been placed on the police station's bulletin board and that the officers found it humorous. I could detail more of what happened during that unlawful stop of my traveling vessel, but can think of no good reason to do so at this point in time. Needless to say I was eventually released, late for a job, but without any "ticket".

So anyway, back to the Kentucky Jail issue, after having answered more questions, one of the agents expressed that they didn't think the man they were looking for was me, but inquired as to whether or not I would be willing to provide hair samples. I replied "of course I will", and later wondered if they might plant the hair somewhere to entrap me (It's not like we haven't heard of this anti-society behavior from them before). I was released from the confines of the jail to quickly experience blisters on my feet. Step-by-step I walked clean out of the state of Kentucky, a common-wealth state that didn't want my type (whatever that type is). Some of my property later was found at a somewhat unlikely location (that need not be commented on).

As a final late interjection, If anyone doubts anything I write in this website, and more specifically this Kentucky fiasco, if the jail "loses" it's records or some other disaster should happen, verification to this story can be obtained from the Horse Cave Kentucky Hospital.

The Hospital in Horse Cave, Kentucky will reveal that not only did a Kenny Hendrick have to get stitches and other services for "falling out of the bunk", but they can verify the date in which the visit occurred because I was rushed from the Jail to the Hospital and then back to the jail after they stiched me up.

On the upside, the jail sure fed us well. I'm not joking. The Jailer's wife came to see us all lined up for inspection and she began to walk the line (for what, who knows?), but then she stopped at me! The words out of her mouth made her appear as an angel. "Ya'all better get this one fattened up here. He looks a little thin". I think she may have asked me a question but it all blurred after the realization of maybe a bigger chicken or something.

Synopsis: The Good Guys kick down a 2nd story door at the Continental Hotel in Denver Colorado and murder a young man.

I actually met the guy the same day he left the planet.

His crime that was worthy of assassination? Corporate infringement (but I'm just guessing. With so many officers unloading into his room, I never learned if there was more than just some check issue).

This is about a young man that approached me and wanted to sell me a check that was clearly more than what he was willing to sell it. I've never heard of such a thing and turned down his offer instantly (and I was broke anyway, which made the offer even more preposterous). However there was another man in my room who stated he had just got off work and wanted to introduce himself to me. In retrospect, it's possible that the black neighbor was possibly some sort of undercover agent, but not certain). Despite my not-so-hidden objection to buying a check from somebody that nobody knows in a room where nobody knows anybody, had me quite shocked when the neighbor said that he would do it. He would buy the guy's check!

Even when the check seller was initially telling me how he lost his identification and that he doesn't want to lose his room and really needs the money, all I saw was lie. I was relieved to see them both leave my room; the neighbor to retrieve the wallet and seal the deal.

Later that day someone knocked on my door and I opened it to see the guy that transacted with the white guy that sold the check (his room was in the corner of the second floor of the Continental hotel). He stepped past me or somehow he was in the room and telling me what happened at the bank. Like I couldn't see this one coming, still he told me the details of how he was detained at the bank and then tackled by police until he gave up the location of the man that sold him the check.

We both watched from my window as if we were watching television as the men all dressed in bullet-proof black and para-military guns. It was surreal to watch, nobody could have survived in that room after they were done. *(THIS STORY HAS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE 2ND STORY PROVO UTAH MURDERS, and should not be confused with the Amenity Inn in which a similar incident took place).

Synopsis: Tasered while wet from the shower. Burn points still divoted into the plasticized concrete. R.I.P. This story is not to be confused with the one already expounded on the previous page, which also occurred in Florida. Will return to write more later.

Synopsis: Strangled and almost killed in South Dallas Texas thanks to the antics of the FBI. Will return to write more later.

New York to Colorado -Going through the State of Ohio

Note to self: Start this section at the point in which I joined the military. Sergent Boraccio (sp?) in Tempe Arizona as recruiting officer; passed ASFAB and Physical but...the government had different plans for me.

Synopsis: "Goldo", murder with a message. Will return to write more later.

This one is kind of sad really.

(oh I can't resist)

Pill-popping addict ex-cop neighbor shoots at my house stating he is going to shoot and kill me!

The petty reason being? That I stacked some concrete block next to my garage on my own property.

The fact that I stored the concrete block was somehow the tipping point from the day before, when he threatened me because I woke him up with my lawnmower; it was like 2pm!

So the ex-cop refuses to come out of his house when the police arrive.

They surround the ex-cop's home on the corner in Port Richey, and even had a helicopter overhead to coax the freak out of his house.

This is actually a good story as well as a base for another, I'll stop back to add more to this later.

...synopsis: while the addict cop is in his home with weapons, one of which he already discharged at my house, what do the "good guys" do?

Well it seems quite rational for the cops to call me out of the safety of my house and stand me in front of his house. In the dead-center of the road! The Police even backed their cars away from me...I mean I was standing there alone in the only abandoned spot on the roadway.

When the cop finally comes out, he is permitted to sit in a lawn chair on his lawn facing me while I'm forced to stand in the middle of the road (looking at him). Naturally the devilish judgmental dangerous cop is not charged whatsoever.

Jump to when I entered the police station to file charges, I was discouraged from doing so, and basically denied.

Still waving your flag? Addressing any grievances might have you tucking it away for a minute, there's unquestionably room for evolving.

Freeze, We're robbing your mother!

Clark County Municipal Court in Springfield Ohio "finds" the downstairs (previous) tenant to be liable for the upstairs neighbor's plumbing and fire problems.