Mother decided i was insane one day when i was cooking vegan Food Not Bombs.
The house was like a Junk Store littered with every massive box of scraps left by Helen and Ransom Eng and hauled to Nashville in Massive Trucks.
I was not insane, but merely cooking Food Not Bombs. She on the other hand was screaming at me, and had threatened to slit her own throat a few years earlier, on the front porch of 328.
I had asked to see my dying grandfolk. she had returned from DC having denied me a chance at their deathbed, in addition to the life i wished for with them since age seven.
Such things i recognize now as child abuse.
Was my father Aspergersy?
Was it child abuse to have him as the primary House Dad?
He never did me wrong, never.
I was his office slave, truly, my primary and total career.
But mother decided i was insane when i was 21.
One would think forced incarcerations were a thing left for Siberia and Stalin, but as it turns out, it was all the rage in the 1990's for affluent upper middle class to incarcerate and medicate their family members half-to-death for crimes of atheism, vegetarianism, lesbianism, and general High IQ or humanitarianism and philanthropy.
So just where i went wrong, i can never retrace.
i always imagine it was the punk rock haircut i gave myself.
My brother on the other hand, Michael Eng was a raging alcoholic on LSD.
i was the sober straight edger elder sister who held the family together, got my siblings reading shakespeare as todlers, taught algebra, etc. etc.
I was Mary poppins Perfect, aside from getting slapped across the mouth by Mother when i was sixteen, as she called me a Bitch. Her own father Elmer Kangas used to beat Mary Driscol Kangas.
Essentially, i was Human Trafficked into an MKUltra Prison, by my own Mother. I was Medically tortured for several years off and on on rounds of extreme medications which failed to eradicate my vegetarianism, lesbianism, atheism, or other assorted thoughtcrimes.
What i take from it all now, is that the Mother who gives you life, can always also give you death.
Mothers are the least to be trusted, but the most to be loved.
An abortion, whether at three weeks, or 21 years is still an abortion. Attempting to obliterate a human soul, and extinguish every unique particle of her spirit, identity, and religion, in a haze of nonconsensual drugging and physical and sexual violence, in a hellhole pit called Middle Tennessee Mental Health Institute and other hellholes Parthenon Pavilion, Summit give way to the curiosity:
why was i exploited for child care, housework, and officework from age 5 on?
why did my mother work 50-70 hour weeks my whole childhood leaving me to tend her children?
why did my father allow my mother to extract more children despite his wishes not to have any children?
Why was my father called a "sociopath" and "psychopath" by my mother? Why was my father ridiculed by my mother my entire childhood?
Why was my expensive education poured down the drain under threat of electroshock?
Why does no one know what MKUltra was still active in Tennessee circa 1998-2002?
Why was my head smashed by Max Schuster of Green Hills after meeting in Parthenon Pavilion?
Why did Nashville Police fail to investigate the 2002 Rape and Strangulation i survived?
Why was i raped in 1999 by Mark Reynolds of the Vanderbilt Philosophy department and so afraid of the Police Brutality my Mother Inflicted on me, that i was too scared to report the rape, lest the police blame it on me, and use it as another excuse to test more drugs on me?
Why was haldol used on me to the destruction of my teeth such that 20K dentistry at least have been needed to repair the dental destruction enacted by Haldol Rabbit Syndrome?
Why do i still suffer extreme Jaw Tightness after the Terrifying Medical experimentation with Tardive Dyskenisiac effects so terrorizing i would flee America as a refugee in 2010, and flee Tennessee in 2003 to California where i lived in Los Angeles as a refugee in my own country from a Medical Stalking so severe, i demanded Mother take the CIA 500K grandpa left us, hire a Lawyer and Legally Protect me from the Nashville Behavioral Stalkers which were terrorizing my every day.
Undercover in California, i was the least ill, successfully studied and worked, sued corporate abusers and soaked in artistic ambiance and non-judgemental company.
Finally restored to my true kith and kin, Father's San Diego Naissance meant i was Half-Californian afterall---soul-wise.
If Being Californian outside of California, is a mental illness to all the people the Californians fled from, god may we repatriate.
Bless, them, the Chicagoans: Ruth Balsey Stephens . . .
Atheism aside, there is memory, what is lost forgotten and suddenly remembered.
Mary Catherine might know.
Her dress was facebook blue in the coffin. They put her together so well after she was knifed to death in the throat.
Lots of makeup and a cold serene look she had. Father Charles Strobel stood over her casket, his face red, and streaming tears.
I want to know what he thinks of all the Child Rapists in the Catholic Church.
Mary Kangas told Anne Eng to take the kids and leave Nashville.
Mary Kangas was an activist against the horrors of "Behavioral" research in Portland, where MKUltra style forced-drugging and hospital abuse became the new religion of secularism.
I was doing the work of Christ, poor and threadbare, feeding the homeless, giving Grandma Helen Stephens Eng's CIA silver to the poor outside Lucy's record shop. Anne Eng unwittingly perhaps sold me to Psychiatric Human Experimentation---as a proxy crucifixion for all the hatred she heaped on my father my whole life. He remained untouchable. Male. She incarcerated me, and my father began to die. It utterly destroyed him, to see his daughter crucified and lynched in the MKultra Machine he decried even in the Jimmy Buffet Biography in the mid-nineties. Father was all too wise.
Mother could have come to Oregon.
I could have called Ran in DC and demanded a Child Protective Services investigation.
I just suffered through the first 21 year Eng family life sentence, never expecting to be sold into slavery for some 7 dollar an hour Ghetto Torture Abu Ghraib bullshittery under Mohammed Jahan, torture doc extraordinaire. It was an Honor Killing fit for a CIA wife, to enact upon her unruly daughter, who failed to turn up in the string of pearls, the poodle skirt, or put her plath-head in the oven fast enough to avoid Dante's Inferno.
So Thorazine powers this, as Thorazine always did, give Thorazine blues, to they that know God by way of Chemistry, Thor's hammer so mighty, none may stop it.
So what was top 5, Science Director doing for the poor, as the lobotomies rolled forth?
As Sem Jacobsen practiced his dark arts of brain surgery on the living in Norway?
As Michael Eng contains the stories of Lyndon Johnson, and Anne Eng stories of the childhood of my father, the dinner parties, how can i walk a fine line in this fine family and find a way to more Total Information Awareness?
Monday, September 16, 2013
Beating up the homeless and disabled is a Major Error.
foundation may be the dirty word here. I associate it with money laundering, total creepiness.
one of my favorite intellectuals in portland oregon is a person called charles johnson.
for three months i have seen him continue to wear half of a broken pair of eyeglasses.
someone needs to take him for an eye exam and a new pair of lenses and frames.
i have pledged him a new pair of glasses from my 868 social security check coming in next month.
in the meantime, i was going to put all my income into Benjamen Pickering's portland police brutality case.
Beating up the homeless and disabled is a Major Error.
I mean really, all my energy faith hope and love are with Benjamen. But when he is sufficiently healed, i know we can move forward into a way of making a better world for those we love and care for . . .
so investing in Ben's health, is like investing in the future of the foundation of a ministry.
Never mind, our love.
Our Love is so vast, in our love was born the idea, of the Mary Catherine Strobel foundation.
I was tired of living in fear, and i gave way to love, opened my heart.
The lingering fear, gave way to knowledge, wherein horror story after horror story have unfolded.
It reminds me all so terribly, of the witch of east nashville.
Stephen Eng's novel carried him past Y2K as spoken language left him, his still could compose words, aphasically.
Father Strobel was as a brother to my mother, wed to an atheist CIA brat.
Never mind, dad's early gigs with CIA himself. things get in your bloodstream after all.
This will never have anything to do with her, but always to do with transpersonal realities which are every mother, every son, every daughter, every father.
Nashville cracked thunder down on Gillian Welch one day.
There stood Bill Siesser, Chief Bromden with his Priscilla and I, with my Mark Franklin Holladay.
Mark and i then took Intake in LA Pershing Square homeless mecca at Food Not Bombs of a former Chinese National Intellectual and Writer who was kicked in the stomach in China for dissidence. In LA his shoes were robbed in the night. His last 2000 dollars stolen at the greyhound station. He feared his family was being tortured back in China. He was exiled in Canada. Then came to USA. He went to the Los Angeles Times, to the ACLU. No one cared. He needed a pair of eyeglasses.
That was 2005. Katrina came. I was near broke myself, longing to go to paralegal school.
Headed up to Portland to take care of my aging parents.
Did he survive?
Did he ever get a pair of eyeglasses?
John, he called himself. Johnny.
Father was sent to Portland for the War on Poverty.
so, evidentally they lost that one, along with Vietnam.
they shot Olaf Palme.
and killed Mary Catherine.
one of my favorite intellectuals in portland oregon is a person called charles johnson.
for three months i have seen him continue to wear half of a broken pair of eyeglasses.
someone needs to take him for an eye exam and a new pair of lenses and frames.
i have pledged him a new pair of glasses from my 868 social security check coming in next month.
in the meantime, i was going to put all my income into Benjamen Pickering's portland police brutality case.
Beating up the homeless and disabled is a Major Error.
I mean really, all my energy faith hope and love are with Benjamen. But when he is sufficiently healed, i know we can move forward into a way of making a better world for those we love and care for . . .
so investing in Ben's health, is like investing in the future of the foundation of a ministry.
Never mind, our love.
Our Love is so vast, in our love was born the idea, of the Mary Catherine Strobel foundation.
I was tired of living in fear, and i gave way to love, opened my heart.
The lingering fear, gave way to knowledge, wherein horror story after horror story have unfolded.
It reminds me all so terribly, of the witch of east nashville.
Stephen Eng's novel carried him past Y2K as spoken language left him, his still could compose words, aphasically.
Father Strobel was as a brother to my mother, wed to an atheist CIA brat.
Never mind, dad's early gigs with CIA himself. things get in your bloodstream after all.
This will never have anything to do with her, but always to do with transpersonal realities which are every mother, every son, every daughter, every father.
Nashville cracked thunder down on Gillian Welch one day.
There stood Bill Siesser, Chief Bromden with his Priscilla and I, with my Mark Franklin Holladay.
Mark and i then took Intake in LA Pershing Square homeless mecca at Food Not Bombs of a former Chinese National Intellectual and Writer who was kicked in the stomach in China for dissidence. In LA his shoes were robbed in the night. His last 2000 dollars stolen at the greyhound station. He feared his family was being tortured back in China. He was exiled in Canada. Then came to USA. He went to the Los Angeles Times, to the ACLU. No one cared. He needed a pair of eyeglasses.
That was 2005. Katrina came. I was near broke myself, longing to go to paralegal school.
Headed up to Portland to take care of my aging parents.
Did he survive?
Did he ever get a pair of eyeglasses?
John, he called himself. Johnny.
Father was sent to Portland for the War on Poverty.
so, evidentally they lost that one, along with Vietnam.
they shot Olaf Palme.
and killed Mary Catherine.
Mary Catherine Schweiss Strobel
there has to be a place in the world for 100% goodness, no lies
no pain
no more nonsense
no high-wheeling non-profit CEO's rolling in G's
Mary Catherine Strobel paid the ultimate price for her dedication to the homeless in Nashville Tennessee.
Relocating to Portland---a mecca for homeless youth--reminds me how everyone needs security, a bulldog, a protector.
Who will protect your mother when she takes a knife, for having a heart?
one wrong move, and the game is over.
How can we end homelessness and suffering and hunger, and stay alive---balance the risks of our compassion with the endemic violent programming of a warlike colonial warmachine america?
http://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Schweiss-7
Family links: Parents: Henry Charles Schweiss (1871 - 1928) Mary Magdelene Sullivan Schweiss (1874 - 1914)
http://www.larryhollon.com/blog/2011/02/07/what-do-the-homeless-need-charles-stroebel-knows/
Recently I met a man I’ve long admired—Charles Strobel, a longtime advocate for the homeless and founder of Nashville’s Room In The Inn ministry. Room In The Inn partners with more than 170 local congregations in the Nashville area—including 34 United Methodist churches —to provide shelter for more than 1,200 homeless individuals from November to March.
no pain
no more nonsense
no high-wheeling non-profit CEO's rolling in G's
Mary Catherine Strobel paid the ultimate price for her dedication to the homeless in Nashville Tennessee.
Relocating to Portland---a mecca for homeless youth--reminds me how everyone needs security, a bulldog, a protector.
Who will protect your mother when she takes a knife, for having a heart?
one wrong move, and the game is over.
How can we end homelessness and suffering and hunger, and stay alive---balance the risks of our compassion with the endemic violent programming of a warlike colonial warmachine america?
http://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Schweiss-7
Born in Nashville, Davidson, TN, USA
[sibling(s) unknown]
Mother of Alice Strobel, Alice Strobel, Charles Strobel, Charles Strobel, Jerry Strobel,Jerry Strobel, Veronica Strobel and Veronica Strobel
Died in Nashville, Davidson, TN, USA
Last profile change on 23 August 2013
19:32: Lianne Lavoie edited the data for Mary Strobel. (Merged Mary Catherine Schweiss into Mary Schweiss) [Thank Lianne for this]
This page has been accessed 562 times.
Advocate for the poor and homeless. Mary Catherine was the only child of Henry Charles and Mary Magdalene Sullivan Schweiss, Jr. She was baptized at St. Patrick Catholic Church in Nashville, Tennessee on September 25, 1912. She was raised by her father and two aunts after her mother died in a fire.
She married Martin George Strobel on September 14, 1937 and they had four children; Veronica, Alice, Jerry and Charles. Her husband Martin was an employee of the Nashville Fire Department. Martin died suddenly in 1947 and following the death of her husband Mary Catherine was hired by the department and thus became the first female employee of the Nashville Fire Dept. For 28 years she was secretary to the fire marshal. She also became the firefighters' favorite mother figure; confidante. At Christmas each year crews of firefighters visited the Strobel home to make sure the children had toys. She sometimes knelt in prayer when they were sent out on a fire call. The fire marshal's building in Nashville now bears her name.
She worked tirelessly with the poor and homeless. While in the city, she was abducted and murdered. More than a thousand people came to pay their respects to the tiny, compassionate woman who had touched so many lives. There were firefighters, police officers, public officials, the bishop of the Nashville diocese, more than 50 priests and even a few homeless people. A stickler for details, she left instructions for her own funeral. There was to be coffee if she died in the winter, lemonade in the summer. She also left the names of pallbearers. The funeral procession included a fire truck and five police cars.
The Strobel children wanted everyone to remember: "Mary Catherine Schweiss Strobel was a very special Mother. She gave us life-- then showed us how to live it with vitality and virtue....Our mother was a giver, not a taker. A participant; not an observer. A lover; not a hater..."
Years later someone wrote: "Mary Catherine was Nashville's Mother Teresa minus the fame. A tireless & unsung good Samaritan in life, she has become the standard by which volunteer work is measured in the capitol city as well as middle Tennessee. Every year the Mary Catherine Strobel Volunteer of the Year Award is presented and it's just an honor to be nominated".
Family links: Parents: Henry Charles Schweiss (1871 - 1928) Mary Magdelene Sullivan Schweiss (1874 - 1914)
Spouse: Martin George Strobel (1901 - 1947)
Burial: Calvary Cemetery Nashville Davidson County Tennessee, USA
Created by: Jody and Lesa Baltz Record added: May 31, 2005 Find A Grave Memorial# 11070495
http://www.larryhollon.com/blog/2011/02/07/what-do-the-homeless-need-charles-stroebel-knows/
What Do The Homeless Need? Charles Strobel Knows.
Recently I met a man I’ve long admired—Charles Strobel, a longtime advocate for the homeless and founder of Nashville’s Room In The Inn ministry. Room In The Inn partners with more than 170 local congregations in the Nashville area—including 34 United Methodist churches —to provide shelter for more than 1,200 homeless individuals from November to March.
It Started With An Open Door.
Back in 1986 when Charlie first decided to open the doors of Holy Name Catholic Church to the homeless, he knew the decision was a pivotal one. One cold evening, he briefly thought to himself, “If I let them in tonight, I may end up doing this for the rest of my life.” He did indeed foretell his future.
One question people ask Charlie repeatedly is, “What do the homeless need?” His answer?
“They need everything I need—everything you need. Of course, there’s Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs starting with the fundamental things like food, clothing, shelter and basic personal things. And then they need education, social support, recreation, employment and those things on the next level. But then Maslow talks about the highest level of need is the need to find meaning in life and purpose in living—to resolve the riddles and mysteries of our world and our life. I don’t have to understand them anymore than I need to understand myself. If I understand what drives me and what are the obstacles and roadblocks in my own life, then it’s easy to understand the homeless. We’re not that different.”
People also ask Charlie if he ever wishes he had some other “problem” than advocating for the homeless.
“They’re not a problem. I wrote once that they present a million problems, but they’re not a problem. Isn’t that what parents mean? I used to hear my mother say, ‘You all are driving me nuts! I can’t understand how you can do this and then do that, when I ask you to do this and you won’t do that!’ And she was telling me that we caused problems, but we weren’t a problem. It’s because love was there. The homeless are not a problem. Love is there. They’re not a problem because I love them.”
This winter there will be anywhere from 4,000 to 10,000 homeless men, women and children on the streets of Nashville. Every city across America has its own version of that same reality. My hope is that every city also has a Charlie Strobel—a kind, loving and gentle soul who was once faced with a life-changing question, “Do I open this door and let them in?” If he hadn’t, the lives of so many—especially his own life– would have been so different. I, for one, am grateful for the choice he made.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)