Sadly, Robin Greene will be mostly remembered as the chopped up guy in the bathtub. He deserved better.

Robin Greene was the son of a prominent elder on a Shoal Lake reserve. He was 38 years old, and he was visiting Winnipeg to celebrated Canada Day. He was around 5’8″ and weighed about 150 pounds. He was not especially muscular. He had long straight jet-black hair, halfway down his back.

Robin Greene didn’t know his killer until they met shortly before his death. Both he and his murderer were gay. They had some drinks, conversed and decided to go to Teerhuis-Moar’s suite at the Royal Albert Arms Hotel. The hotel had seen better days; the rooms were typically rented to welfare recipients and low-income residents.

Once in the suite, Robin Greene posed for sexy pictures, first wearing underwear, and then nude, and then nude in the antique clawfoot bathtub. He must have anticipated nothing more than an enjoyable bout of sex. He likely had no inkling of his immediate, ghastly fate.

The details are such that I need brain-bleach to get them out of my head. Poor Robin Greene was stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. I only hope the first strike was fatal and he didn’t suffer unduly. Sydney Teerhuis-Moar, the over-achieving fame whore killer, finally tired after 68 blows. Oh, yes, he just had to outdo Jack the Ripper, didn’t he!

And then, with visions of famous killer Dennis Nilsen no doubt dancing in his head, he spent hours butchering the corpse of Robin Greene. That was a lot of concentrated, meticulous and serious effort. But where Dennis Nilsen tried to hide his handiwork under the floorboards and in the sewer system, the artiste inside Sydney Teerhuis-Moar demanded that he create a masterpiece.

And so the remains of Robin Greene, eight pieces, were posed preposterously for posterity in the bathtub in room 309 of the Royal Albert Arms Hotel. I shall spare you, dear reader, the worst of the details. It is the stuff of horror films.

Sydney Teerhuis-Moar had made a half-ass attempt to mop up blood. There was still plenty left on the walls, the mattress and a bed sheet. Why he was worried about the blood I don’t know — possibly it didn’t fit his artistic vision.

Sydney Teerhuis-Moar was far more successful in making Robin Greene’s organs disappear. The police never did find them, and believe me they looked!

So after spending such a busy night, Sydney Teerhuis-Moar trucked himself to the nearby Remand Centre and approached the two guards at front desk. When asked if they could help him, he calmly announced that he was turning himself in because he’d killed somebody. The flummoxed guards in turn handed him the phone and invited him to tell the police. And he told them all right.

“My name is Sydney Teerhuis and I killed someone yesterday… I chopped up the guy. I blacked out and when I woke up I found the body in the bathtub.”

And without much further ado, police officers were on their way. Sydney Teerhuis-Moar told them that he’d met the victim, they’d gone to his room for drinks and sex and …. he passed out. And when he woke up, Holy Crap! there was a body dismembered in the tub!

Yup, that’s his story. He BLACKED OUT! Doesn’t remember a thing! How nice for him.

He’d been too boozed up, he and his lawyer argued in court, so he couldn’t possibly have planned to kill anybody! He had no motive to kill Robin Greene, so it couldn’t possibly be first-degree murder or second-degree murder he’d committed, right? No no no, it had to be manslaughter!

The police officers that investigated will likely never forget the horror that they saw — what Sydney Teerhuis-Moar meant them to see. The jurors at his trial will likewise never forget the gawd-awful photos and evidence. No, apparently only Sydney Teerhuis-Moar enjoys a blank, gore-free memory.

Know what? I don’t believe this blackout, memory-lapse crap this POS is handing out. You know why? Because, since Sydney Teerhuis-Moar is a flaming fame whore, he sent a whole lot of correspondence to local author Dan Zupansky that proved he knew exactly what he was doing, and remembered every awful detail. He wrote these letters after he was arrested for murder:

“When you kill someone you experience a frenzy, a vehemence for what cannot be changed; the triumphs and trophies Greene’s physical body had to offer when I carved him up, having sex with a dead body was more powerful than anything you could fathom. The poetry of Greene’s viscera, the inexplicable beauty of his intestines elaborately coiled and folded, the rich aroma of fresh human meat, the sound of stainless steel cutting into bone, ripping out the lungs with my bare hands. When Greene was sawed in half, the shreds of flesh hung from his ribcage like colorless frond. Randomly stabbing his corpse, butchering him for the mere pleasure of it, because I can (when you cut off a human arm or leg, then hold it and admire it, you are overwhelmed with this ideology that the victim was ultimately sacrificed for the right reasons).

“When I butchered Greene’s body, watching the steel blade enter the body and the sensation of pulling it out again was beyond any moral connection. I treated the corpse like a side of beef, like Greene was a dead animal and portioned him like a giant turkey, cutting off the arms and legs.”

My God, how can anyone not see this creature Teerhuis-Moar belongs forever in hell? He’s totally orgiastic over killing a human being! Over raping a corpse! Over slaughtering a human body! And that’s not all he wrote to the author:

“I looked into Greene’s eyes as I cut into him. It was kind of erotic.”

Excuse me while I retch.

“Dissecting Greene was a lot of work. It was a messy job… I pulled out the heart. It was smaller than I expected… I was in awe at the sight of his intestines. I looked at them in amazement — the curls, the intricate folds, the transparency … Now I know how serial killer Dennis Nilsen must have felt when he killed his first victim.”

This POS demon beast Teerhuis-Moar wrote extensively about being sexually aroused as he killed his victim and defiled the corpse. He wrote about sex acts he performed on the victim both before and after he was dead. He discussed his admiration for serial killers such as Jeffrey Dahmer.

Sydney Teerhuis-Moar also made tasteless jokes about how the victim was dismembered:

“I guess you could say I’m a cut above the rest. Sometimes I can be a real pain in the gut. But I wouldn’t fall to pieces over it. Just reading this, you must think I lost my head or something.”

Shitstain Teerhuis-Moar even drew a detailed map of the suite inside the Royal Albert Hotel on which he pinpointed exactly how and where he committed various acts including stabbing Green and cutting up his body. How could he do that without remembering everything?

Teerhuis-Moar wrote about getting sexual satisfaction from the actual murder and smoking crack cocaine after Robin Greene was dead.

“I had left Green’s headless nude corpse on the bathroom floor for quite a while before chopping him up.”

Jurors heard these extracts and more during testimony by pathologist Dr. Charles Littman. Dr. Littman testified Teerhuis-Moar’s descriptions of the organs — including their shape, weight and texture — were accurate. So much for blacking out and not remembering!

Dr. Littman said poor Robin Greene’s dismemberment was “almost surgical-like” in its precision and would have needed three hours minimum to complete.

“It would require some degree of manual dexterity and co-ordination,” he testified. So how drunk was that hellbeast Teerhuis-Moar that he could do that?

Defense lawyer Greg Brodsky said his client was suffering from “disorganized thinking and impaired judgment” at the time, and deserved the benefit of the doubt from jurors.

Teerhuis-Moar argued he was a victim of his own desire for fame and made up the details to make a better story.

In his closing arguments defense lawyer Brodsky asked jurors to leave emotion out of their deliberations. While admitting the crime was horrific, he told the jurors, “You can’t decide my client is a horrible person.” No? Then what on earth would make somebody a horrible person if not that?

Brodsky also suggested that “no sane and sober person” would do the things that were done to Robin Greene.

“He lost it,” Brodsky said in closing arguments. He also spoke of Teerhuis-Moar’s “very unhappy background” which included being sexually abused as a child.

Brodsky also criticized the Judge Glen Joyal for allowing jurors to be shown photos of the crime scene, saying they only “inflamed the passions” of the panel.

Crown prosecutor Sheila Leinburd suggested that Teerhuis-Moar was simply “evil”:

“How drunk does a man have to be to do this to another human being? The killing was merciless.”

Teerhuis-Moar was found guilty of second-degree murder.

Justice Glen Joyal, after considering all the facts and details, eschewed the normal sentencing for second-degree murder (life with no chance of parole for 10 years) and imposed a sentence of life with no chance of parole for 25 years. Yay Justice Joyal!

The POS Teerhuis-Moar isn’t happy about this turn of events. He wants out! Through his lawyer, Greg Brodsky, he appealed. Apparently one of their arguments was that the jury shouldn’t have been shown photos of the scene. Too inflammatory and prejudicial, apparently. Never mind that it was the actual scene of the actual murder for which he was on trial.

Seriously? So what photos are juries supposed to see if not the crime scene photos?

Teerhuis-Moar also argued that Dr. Littman erred on how Robin Greene died.

“In 2006, Dr. Littman states Mr. Greene had died of a fatal stab wound to the heart, yet all the internal organs had been removed, so how could he come to that conclusion?”

Does this creature expect anyone to believe Robin Greene died of natural causes? Sixty-eight stab wounds! I think it’s fair to say he was stabbed to death.

Appeal denied. Thank God!

And still the fame-whore Teerhuis-Moar clutches at every gambit for fame. He created a comic strip entitled, “Munchie: Life in the Big City” which portrays a happy day in the happy life of a cannibal. (So where exactly are Robin Greene’s organs? Hmmmm.)

Recently, for those who believe in divine justice, Teerhuis-Moar has claimed he’s recovering from a severe bout of flesh-eating disease. In a handwritten letter from Saskatchewan Penitentiary near Prince Albert, he told a reporter from Sun Media:

“(I) had undergone three major surgeries to get rid of the virus. I almost lost my left leg. To date, I am still recovering from surgery and deemed somewhat crippled for life. I’m dependent on a wheelchair, leg brace and walker.”

He also complains that he’s suffered numerous health problems, “from Hep C to arthritis, diabetes and a rare blood disorder.”

Excuse me while I pray hard for his complete recovery — NOT! Nope, I am actually rejoicing in each and every physical ailment this inhuman being suffers. May his suffering only end upon his death. And then, Sydney, may you roast in pieces!

As bad as that number is that is not the worst statistic. It is far worse that nearly 94% of these rapes are not even reported to police. That’s right, 94% of victims even after they’ve been overpowered, threatened, probably beaten and then forcefully penetrated by some loathsome hellbeast refuse to step into the arena of the criminal and justice system in Canada.

I would not be surprised if that number rises to nearly 100% in Manitoba thanks to Queen’s Bench Justice and Major Asshole Robert Dewar.

The Canadian justice system has set three years of incarceration as the starting point for judges in determining sentences for rape and major sexual assault. Three years is the starting point, the minimum, not the cap, and judges can tack on more time if they feel it’s warranted. In my mind more time is always warranted. Let the rapists rot in jail, I say.

As of 2007 Parliament wisely took from judges the power to grant conditional sentences for sexual assault. Why? Probably because of assholes like Robert Dewar. Unhappily, cases dealing with rapes dating back to before 2007 are subject to the old way of doing things.

This brings us to the case of the convicted rapist Kenneth Rhodes. Back in the summer of 2006 Kenneth Rhodes and a pal met up with a couple of women outside a bar. Now his pal and one of the women hit it off really well, so the four of them piled into the women’s car and headed off toward a nearby lake.

Kenneth Rhodes started hitting on his 20-year-old victim, but she spurned him.

“I didn’t like the guy,” she is quoted as saying. “He was beyond creepy, a real pervert.”

Well the pervert didn’t stop his attentions. He began foisting upon the girl unwanted kisses. Ewww. He pawed her and mauled her and wouldn’t stop. In a panic the girl asked her friend to stop the car and let her out. She didn’t want to be anywhere around that creep. Her clueless/brainless friend obliged and stopped the car on the highway, in the dark, so she could get out. Unfortunately Kenneth Rhodes got out too, and oblivious to the girl’s distress her friend drove off and left them there. Imagine the terror the girl felt, alone, in the dark, with HIM.

The girl feared for her life and she had good reason to do so. The assault was violent. When it was done she was covered with bruises and had been raped and sodomized. She still bears a scar on her knee as a result of the attack.

After the prolonged assault the girl fled from her rapist without her pants, trying to run away through the dark woods. She ultimately had to no choice but to go back to the highway, still without pants, to flag down help from a passing car. Horrifically for her she had to share a ride with her rapist.

And so it came to be that Kenneth Rhodes was convicted of raping the girl. No question that he did it. Guilty, guilty, guilty. But because the crime occurred before 2007, Justice Robert Dewar had the right to impose his own sort of justice in sentencing.

And if you read this official transcript of Kenneth Rhodes’ sentencing hearing (Click Here to view it on Scribd.com), you’ll see that’s exactly what he did. I warn you, by the time you finish reading it, your level of anger may reach dangerous levels.

Justice Robert Dewar decided that the two men meeting up with the two women outside a bar constituted “inviting circumstances.” He noted that the women were wearing tube tops with no bras, high heels and plenty of makeup.

“They made their intentions public known that they wanted to party,” Dewar said. There was “sex in the air” that night, and Dewar gave weight to the convicted rapist’s contention that he thought the woman had consented to sex.

“This is a case of misunderstood signals and inconsiderate behavior,” Dewar concluded.

Rape and sodomy are inconsiderate behavior? Seriously? Yup, that’s what the man said. Betcha he thinks murder is downright incivility and rudeness.

And not only that, the convicted rapist was in actuality a “clumsy Don Juan” according to asshole Dewar. That’s right, Kenneth Rhodes was being all romantic while he was grinding that girl into the highway, ripping her pants off, shoving his fingers and then his penis into her vagina and anus, ignoring her whimpers of pain.

How was Kenneth Rhodes to know the girl didn’t welcome his advances? I’m sure all his girlfriends ask him if he’s going to kill them while they have sex. I’m sure all his girlfriends try to hide in the woods before and after. I’m sure all his girlfriends wind up with bruises and scarred knees as souvenirs. “Clumsy Don Juan” indeed.

No, according to Robert “Asshole” Dewar poor Kenneth Rhodes never threatened the woman, didn’t have a weapon and was simply “insensitive to the fact (she) was not a willing partner.”

Justice Robert Dewar said, “There is a different quality to this case than many sexual assaults… Not all guilty people are morally culpable to the same level.”

That’s right, poor Kenneth Rhodes was not morally culpable. The girl was. That nasty slut got him all excited and confused and forced him to believe she wanted sex with him on the highway in the dark. How dare she wear a tube top WITHOUT A BRA! How dare she talk to strange men in a parking lot! How dare she wear too much makeup and high heels! There was “sex in the air” and she damn well knew better than to not deliver!

What did the girl expect anyway? That she could change her mind? Refuse Kenneth Rhodes’ kisses? Deny him full and unfettered access to her vagina and anus?

The prosecutor was seeking a three-year jail term for this convicted rapist, but Justice Dewar decided poor Kenneth Rhodes should be spared jail time.

“Protection of society is not advanced one iota by putting Mr. Rhodes in jail,” Dewar the asshole ruled.

So Kenneth Rhodes got a two-year conditional sentence that allows him to remain free in the community. He’s allowed to go to work and buy groceries, but no booze. Oh, and he has to write a letter of apology to the victim of his “inconsiderate behavior.” And he should attend counseling for sex offenders. Should attend. Not even must attend.

Ooooh, Justice Robert Dewar really gave that convicted rapist what he had coming, right? I’m sure every violent sexual offender in this country will think twice before raping again knowing that there are NO CONSEQUENCES for their “inconsiderate behavior.” They don’t even have to write “I will not rape again” a hundred times on the blackboard — instead they get to send their victims a sweet little note saying they’re very, very sorry.

And I’m sure every woman in Canada now knows she doesn’t have to worry about her safety from sexual predators — just so long as she doesn’t wear anything more enticing than a burka… and a parka.

And victims of sexual assault will know better now than to clog up the courts with their nonsense after they’ve enticed these poor rapists into behaving badly. Rapists don’t create victims after all — potential victims create rapists. The moral culpability lies with the woman, everyone knows that. Or at least the judges know that.

Justice Robert Dewar’s decision in this case stirred up a media and public opinion firestorm. He has since been taken off sexual offender cases, and the Canadian Judicial Council is reviewing complaints regarding his conduct. Hopefully he’ll be “retired” from the bench before he does any more damage.

I’m sure you have figured out that I would consign convicted rapist Kenneth Rhodes to the flames of hell if I could, with hellhounds nipping at his balls forevermore. But Justice Robert Dewar should be joining him and all rapists down there too, because thanks to his stone-aged attitude 30,917 Canadian women will likely decide not to report their sexual assaults to police this year, and the next year and years after that. Just as I didn’t 35 1/2 years ago.

Editor’s Notes: I found a petition to have Justice Robert Dewar removed from the Queen’s Bench. I urge everyone to Click Here and sign it, since it’s obvious Justice Dewar hasn’t got the first clue about what it means to a woman when she is raped.

In this day and age, with all we know about what motivates rapists, and how the effects of rape on the victim can follow her throughout her entire life, this supposed representative of the law pronounced that the woman who was raped in this case ASKED for it by wearing suggestive clothing and “lots” of makeup. That’s not just wrong, it’s cruel, evil and incredibly insensitive. It also makes me wonder about how stable this man’s mental state really is.

One thing. Let’s try and keep the Canada bashing to an absolute minimum here. The fault in this story lies not in the Canadian justice system, but squarely in the heart and mind of Justice Robert Dewar. The tools to properly sentence Kenneth Rhodes were all in place on the day he was to hear his fate. It was Justice Dewar, and Dewar alone, who came up with Rhodes ridiculous sentence and the bizarre reasoning behind it.

To say I had struggles would be putting it lightly. To say I was depressed, hopeless, and feeling completely undeserving of the two little souls I was given to nurture and teach to become men would be a complete gloss over. But, as much of a douche bag as my ex husband was, he never raised a hand to me, beat me, or raped me. Unfortunately, Rachel Susan Miller was not so lucky.

“Yeah, I wanted to make it work, you know? I loved her. Things just got out of control I guess and she took my kids. I had no idea where she ran off to or why. I provided for her and she took off one night when I came home. Bags packed, said she was leaving and walked out with the kids. I figured she would come back like always but she didn’t. That was around her birthday of that year. I told her as she left I would find her. I told her.”

(Bruce David Daniels, in his police interview after the murder of his ex wife Rachel.)

So many women that are caught up in the cycle of domestic abuse give up. They continue to take abuse doled out to them with the hope that “this will be the last time”. Some, as we all know, even sacrifice their children to the cycle of hate and mistreatment that they themselves have grown accustomed to. All in the name of love. Because, someday, it’s going to get better.

And then there are those few who fight their way out. Leaving behind all that they know, own, and are familiar with. These few brave finally come to the conclusion that it WILL NOT get better. So they run. In hopes that they are able to run long and far enough so as to never cross paths with the demons that have beaten them down.

Rachel Susan Miller went above and beyond getting out. She not only ran, but was able to let her guard down and realize that there are REAL men out there. Real men worthy of her love and the love of her children. A man deserving of her hand in marriage and the promise of a new life to come.

DANIELS: No. I stayed still. I felt bad again so I made love to her again but all this blood was coming from her vagina so I stopped.
WALTERS: Did you know she was pregnant, yes or no?
DANIELS: I thought she was lying.

That’s right, Rachel was six weeks pregnant with a baby boy, the result of her happy marriage to a man she trusted and knew to be nothing like Bruce Daniels. Not only did Rachel have the balls to pick up and leave her ex husband, but she also became active in the fight against Domestic Violence.

One month and 2 days before Bruce David Daniels brutally raped, beat, and stomped her to death, Rachel Susan Miller wrote this advice for other women, which was posted as note on the Facebook page “STOP GIVING WOMEN BEATERS A SLAP ON THE WRIST. DOMESTIC VIOLENCE KILLS.” Click Here to read, in her own words, how passionate she was in the hopes of saving another woman from the hell she had been through.

Rachel Miller found the courage to leave, to start over, to not lay down and die. To not let her son and daughter fall victim to the madman that was their father. On April 16th 2000, Bruce Daniels found his way back into Rachel’s life. Like the lowlife that he is, he had used her social security number, drivers license, and date of birth to track her down via the internet. For two weeks he stalked her, watching her every move, memorizing the times she would be alone. The fact that she had a house alarm that was used religiously did nothing to deter him.

DANIELS: Yeah, under the house, behind the house is a wood deck. The cat that she stole from me ran under there when it saw me so I looked under there for it and behind some piles of dirt was this little window that probably led to the basement. Nobody thinks about them kind of things.

So there Rachel was. At home, watching Friends, happy and secure in the safe environment she was finally able to secure for her children and herself. But all that came crashing down when Bruce Daniels decided to take it away. She heard him coming up through the basement.

Once she saw that it was in fact him, she once again ran. Ran just like she had two years prior from this animal. Only this time, she wasn’t able to run far. He found her upstairs, crouched in a closet, having an asthma attack no doubt brought on by the fact that her nightmares had just become reality.

For the next few hours, Rachel was subjected to nothing short of torture. Beaten, raped, strangled, raped again. It went on for what must have been an eternity for her. And in the background, her new husbands voice on the answering machine letting her know he’d be home late.

DANIELS: She stopped making noises after I hit her a few times, so I stand her up and lean her against the fridge and smashed the back of her head where I hit her with the wrench into the fridge till I got tired. Blood was fucking everywhere man. I was like holy shit, how much blood do people got in them?

Bruce Daniels continue to beat the hell out of Rachel. He attempted to rape her one last time, but apparently the baby that she was losing caused so much blood to pour out of her that he lost interest. Shortly after that, and between a few more beatings, he grabbed a hammer off the counter and struck her so hard in the chest that it broke the metal part off. Grabbing a screwdriver and holding it to her neck as she lay there motionless, he realized rather than stay and kill her husband, maybe it was time to leave. And he did.

Click Here to view the actual interview he gave police, of which there are brief excerpts throughout this story. As horrid as it is, please read it if you are able. Rachel Miller’s story deserves to be told, even if it is through the words of this disgusting creature that ultimately took her life.

At the last minute, Bruce Daniels plead guilty to the murder of Rachel Susan Miller to receive life in prison. He was never formally punished or held accountable for Christopher Miller, the six week old baby that lost his life during the torture and rape of his mother. Please Click Here to read the transcript of the hearing where Bruce Daniels changed his plea to guilty, as I cannot possibly with my own words, do justice to the absolute lack of humanity of this man’s plea of guilty.

So, Bruce Daniels was given a life sentence for the horrendous crimes he committed. His confession held fast that even though, yes, he beat his wife, and yes, he “made love to her”, he was not directly responsible for her death as she was still breathing when he left her. Makes your stomach curl don’t it?

Alas, Rachel’s life ending a few days shy of her 30th birthday was not to be the last act of tragedy for this heroic family. Her son, 12 year old Tyler, committed suicide in 2001. Unable to come to terms with the murder of his mother by his biological father and terrified that he would one day turn out to be the same kind of monster, he took his own life.

I’m far from a religious person, but from the moment I read this story, I have, in my own way, prayed for this family. For the beautiful souls that were taken far too soon, for the daughter left behind, for the husband that was actually worthy of a beautiful and smart woman like Rachel.

As far as Bruce Daniels, well, my thoughts run a much darker path when I think of the atrocities he committed and the lives he stole from the world, much less their family. If there truly is a hell, I would issue this piece of shit a one way ticket, smiling and waving the whole time.

This Story Was Written And Submitted By Katrina, A Long Time Reader Of PYSIH. This is her first story for us, and it has affected me like few stories ever have.

Bruce David Daniels is as cowardly a son of a bitch as you’re likely to run across. Everything he did to Rachel Susan Miller, and his incredibly lack of remorse afterwards, made me want to hate him more and more.

But for me, the worst part was the fact that this animal, this subhuman neanderthal, was allowed to cop a plea to save his life. A jury should have decided his fate, and I believe they would have taken no time at all to give him the death penalty. But if you give this kind a coward a way out, he’ll take it every time. Bruce was no exception.

The Bruce Millers of the world make me sick to my stomach. I don’t know if it’s their arrogance, their ignorance, their cowardice, or their downright stupidity that gets to me the most, but I feel that anyone who removes a guy like this from the world should be hailed as a hero.

I pride myself on my self control – it took me years to master a very bad temper – and I seldom let people get under my skin, but whenever I read about another case like this, I lose it. I want to hurt this cocksucker.

Does this make me a bad person? I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care. I’m not a saint after all, just another flawed human being….

I wouldn’t imagine Jessica Blackham is very happy at all considering she can possibly spend the next 30 years of her life rotting in jail (she’s 25 now, do the math). Can you imagine a woman in her 20s being very happy that she may spend her last young years in the slammer?

What for, you probably wonder? Well, it depends on who you ask. If you ask Jessica Blackham herself, she’ll claim she has no idea and doesn’t remember.

Yeah, Jessica Blackham is one of THOSE criminals.

On Friday night, February 5, 2011, the Ringling Brothers and Barnum Bally Circus was being held at the Bi-Lo Center in downtown Greenville, SC. It was rather late, around 11:30 p.m., when the cleaning crew for the center entered one of the women’s restrooms to begin cleanup.

One of the crew members heard whimpering from the stall at the end of the bathroom. Inside the stall, Eder Serrano and Marco Calle found bloody paper towels strewn about. When they looked in the toilet they found a placenta, and umbilical cord and 6 pound baby boy at the end of it, no more than 2 hours old.

Luckily the baby’s head was resting on the rim of the toilet. Eder Serrano called 911 and the operator on the other end coached him on what to do to save the newborn until paramedics arrived.

Dispatcher: EMS fire, what’s the address of the emergency?

Caller: We found a newborn baby in a toilet. Can you please send an ambulance or something?

Dispatcher: Is the baby breathing?

Caller: It’s breathing. It’s newborn. My supervisor take it off from the toilet already. We tried to clean the nose, but not much, we don’t anything about it. You know?

Dispatcher: Do you have a blanket or anything like that on the baby?

Caller: We put a blanket already on the top

Dispatcher: OK. Make sure you keep the baby warm.

Dispatcher: Just make sure that they can gently wipe off the baby’s mouth and nose. Dry the baby off with a clean towel, OK, or a cloth. Just keep the baby wrapped in a clean, dry cloth or towel.

Caller: OK. We’re doing that right now.

Dispatcher: Make sure that you cover the baby’s head, but not its face, OK.

Marco Calle whispered “vas a estar bien, bebe” (you’re going to be OK, baby) as he used his finger to wipe some mucus from boy’s mouth.

The infant was taken to a hospital where his condition was critical.

Fast forward a few days later. It didn’t take officials very long to find the mother of the abandoned baby boy, even though it’s estimated that about 10,000 people were at the circus.

Police were somehow led to Jessica Blackham, who is married and already has a four-year-old child. She was arrested and faces jail time for one count of felony child abuse and one count of unlawful neglect toward a child.

If convicted on BOTH counts, Jessica Blackham could face up to 30 years in prison – FAR TOO SHORT of a time if you ask me. I’m honestly baffled as to why she’s not being charged with attempted murder because, well, what are the chances of a newborn baby surviving in a fucking toilet?

Anyone with common sense knows the chances are very slim, and it was only by the grace of God that this child survived those grueling hours in freezing toilet water. Of course, the infant was found to have hypothermia, a condition which is extremely dangerous for newborns.

Unfortunately, Jessica Blackham won’t be waiting in jail until her trial begins because Mommy, Anita McAuliffe, came up with $30,000 to bail her daughter out of jail. Wait, it gets worse; she explained to the judge that her daughter had no symptoms or knowledge of pregnancy in addition to- ready for this?- AMNESIA!

It’s okay everyone, relax! CLEARLY Jessica Blackham is not at fault because she got amnesia conveniently during and after giving birth in a public restroom and leaving her newborn son to die in a toilet. It’s not her fault!

What a downright abomination to think for a single second that the woman who birthed and abandoned this baby is responsible! How dare anyone spread such cruel slander!

Jessica Blackheart, oops, I mean, Blackham said nothing as mommy dearest held her close and rambled some bullshit to the judge about how poor Jessica felt ill during the circus performance and went to the bathroom.

SPOILER ALERT: This is where the amnesia part comes in.

Poor Jessie doesn’t remember her unusually long and painful bathroom break during which she birthed a healthy 6 pound, some-odd ounce baby boy WITHOUT an epidural or any pain meds. Mom says:

“She had amnesia, couldn’t remember what happened. She went there (to the hospital) of her own accord because she knew she was bleeding and something was wrong,”

Apparently Jessica Blackham can’t recall any of the bathroom break; not the horrendous contractions, not the pushing, not the feeling of her vagina slightly tearing as a full-term baby came out, and not even the cries and whimpers of a newborn baby as he was cruelly left in cold, dirty toilet water, wondering why his mommy wasn’t holding and comforting him. Nope, Jessica is the victim here and didn’t even KNOW she was pregnant!

Anita the Hun also claims that Jennifer showed no signs of being pregnant, going so far as to tell the judge:

“She’s had periods. There’s been no sign whatsoever of her pregnancy,”

Well, that’s not exactly true, it seems, even though her and her mommy vehemently deny claims of any other explanation. A man, Jason Jones, has come forward saying he believes he is the father of the baby boy. He also said that according to Jessica Blackham’s wall posts made on her Facebook page, she knew she was pregnant as she publicly posted about morning sickness and headaches (common side effects of, you guessed it, pregnancy!).

Whoops! And that “I didn’t know I was pregnant” thing was working out SO well for you and your mother, huh Jess? Damn today’s popular trend of posting about every private aspect of one’s life!

Thomas Blackham, who separated from his wife, 24-year-old Jessica Blackman last May, said that he thinks something is “mentally wrong” with her.

Blackham said he doesn’t believe that his wife was unaware she was pregnant. He also doesn’t believe her claim that she blacked out and had amnesia during the baby’s birth.

“She’s been pulling this crap for years.”

Jason Jones has said he wants a paternity test to prove he is the father. The baby boy, currently still named John Doe, is with a foster family as he recovers. I somehow don’t think Maury Povich will welcome Jessica Blackham on his show via Skype from jail for a free DNA test, do you?

On a positive note, the cleaning crew members who saved the baby’s life, Eder Serrano and Marco Calle, are anxious to finally see the baby as soon as possible. At least some human beings still have some decency in this world.

Now, for personal ranting. What fucking prick judge would even ALLOW a bail to be set for this worthless piece of trash?! And what the hell is her mother thinking? I understand this is her daughter but Christ! She fucking left her baby (YOUR GRANDSON, Anita McAuliffe!) for DEAD in a toilet! How can anyone stand by her?

And to keep up the charade of, “I didn’t even know she was pregnant and I’m her mother! Jessica Blackham didn’t look pregnant, she didn’t act pregnant. And we already told you, she doesn’t remember her baby-birthing bathroom break.” I also can’t, for the life of me, understand why this is not an attempted murder charge and why this bitch won’t be able to rot in prison for the rest of her life.

Seriously, what did Jessica Blackham THINK would happen to a defenseless newborn baby after she leaves it in a toilet right after birth? Oh, that’s right, she “doesn’t remember”!

This Story Was Written and Submitted By Our Good Friend Leasha – Thanks For a Great Story.

Editor’s Notes: The Blackham family is a class act, let me tell you. Check out this raw video from a local TV news crew as they tried to get some footage When Jessica Blackham was arrested.

Wow! Doesn’t it make you want to believe everything they have to say? Is that banjos I’m hearing in the background?

You might be a redneck if…..

The police arrived and began asking questions. Bill told them truthfully he lived with his brother’s family and that he had babysat Valin the night before. This made him Suspect #1, and within 12 hours of finding his niece’s body Bill was charged with first-degree murder.

Bill was hysterical, crying and protesting his innocence. It did no good. He was accused not only of murdering the little girl but also raping her. After fourteen months in custody Bill went to trial in September 1994. He was certain he would be exonerated for he had done nothing wrong. He hadn’t counted on the testimony of Dr. Charles Smith, the top pediatric pathologist in Ontario.

Dr. Charles Smith, the darling of Ontario prosecutors, testified that Valin had been strangled to death while being sodomized. He couldn’t produce the autopsy exhibits — they were lost, but without a doubt, beyond any question, Valin had been sodomized and strangled. Not surprisingly the jury found Bill guilty of first-degree murder. He was sentenced to life in prison with no chance of parole for 25 years.

Bill was sent to Warkworth Penitentiary, an Ontario prison known to house killers, rapists and pedophiles — the absolute dregs of society. For the next decade Bill lived in an eleven-by-seven foot cell, beset by depression. He maintained his innocence but only his mother believed him.

“We cried, cried all the time. Rehashed that stupid trial every time we got together.”

Finally in 2001 David Bayliss, a lawyer with the Association in Defense of the Wrongfully Convicted, listened to Bill and believed him.

“There was not a shred of forensic evidence linking Bill to the crime scene,” Bayliss said. “This was an alleged sex-homicide. There was no semen. There was no blood. There was no saliva, no hair, no biological material whatsoever connected Billy to Valin or the bed where she was found dead.”

Could this be true? No evidence at all of a sex-homicide yet Bill was convicted of this horrible crime? After nearly two years of bureaucratic nonsense, the Ontario chief coroner’s office finally ordered a search of Dr. Charles Smith’s office. And what did they find? The missing autopsy exhibits. Right on Dr. Smith’s desk.

Two expert pathologists examined the medical exhibits and determined that the bruises on Valin’s body were not evidence of strangulation or sexual assault. The marks had been caused by the gravitational pooling of blood that occurs after death. Valin had succumbed to a “sudden natural death.” No sodomy. No murder. Said Bayliss:

“Valin … was not killed by anyone.”

And yet Bill had spent 12 years in prison amongst killers, pedophiles and rapists. He’d been convicted solely on the testimony of Dr. Charles Smith. And he would have been exonerated by the “missing” evidence Smith kept in his office.

Okay, people make mistakes and obviously Dr. Charles Smith f*cked up. But how many mistakes before it becomes a pattern of intentional malice? How many incidents of “lost” evidence and “misinterpreted” autopsy findings should a prominent pathologist be allowed?

Bill Mullins-Johnson was not the only one wrongfully imprisoned because of Dr. Charles Smith.

In 1997 Louise Reynolds was charged with killing her seven-year-old daughter, Sharon.

Sharon was missing for several hours before police found her bloodied body under the stairs in the basement of the family’s Kingston, Ontario home. It was a horrible, heartrending sight, this little girl’s body covered with blood and gashes and punctures.

Two weeks later the grieving Louise was charged with murder. “They said they know that I did it, they said they have the evidence that I did it,” said Louise. “It was like I was in another world really because I just couldn’t believe they were sitting there telling me that.”

And what evidence did they have? Why, Dr. Charles Smith had told them that the girl had been stabbed with scissors more than 80 times. And that would make Louise Reynolds an absolute monster!

But there was a pit bull living in the house seen with red staining around its mouth on the day Sharon’s body was found. Couldn’t maybe, possibly …? But no, Dr. Smith testified there “was absolutely no way in the world a dog could have caused that pattern of injury.”

“Dr. Smith was at my preliminary hearing and testified that you know he had no doubt that my daughter was stabbed to death. I’m just sitting there thinking: he’s not right, he’s wrong.”

So off of prison the supposedly murdering mother went, for 22 months. Twenty-two months sitting in solitary confinement grieving the death of her little girl. Finally a bonafide expert forensic pathologist, Dr. James Ferris (of the Australian dingo-baby case) looked at the case and publicly challenged Dr. Smith’s findings.

“They were absolutely classic of a dog bite,” Dr. Ferris said of Sharon’s wounds. “In my view there was never any other reasonable opinion.”

Eventually Dr. Smith “deferred to the other expert opinions” and the Crown dropped its case against Louise and released her.

Okay, so that’s two mistakes made by Dr. Charles Smith. Is that hellworthy yet?

In 1995 eleven-month-old Nicholas Gagnon of Sudbury bumped his head on a table and died. Accident, plain and simple. But Dr. Charles Smith disagreed with the findings of the first pathologist and ordered a second autopsy. He determined the baby’s death was non-accidental, blunt-force trauma. The parents were never charged but authorities seized their second child. They not only lost Nicolas but were robbed of his sibling as well.

In 1998 three-year-old Tyrell Salmon of Toronto died. His father’s girlfriend Maureen Laidley was charged with murder based on Dr. Charles Smith’s conclusions.

On the eve of her trial three other pathologists concluded that Tyrell’s head injury was caused by falling on a coffee table. The charge of murder against Maureen Laidley was withdrawn.

Can you imagine what it was like for her? The little boy falls and bumps his head the wrong way, he dies and everyone grieves. And Maureen had to live with the condemnation of the entire community, and face the fear and anxiety of going to trial.

So that’s four “mistakes” — hellworthy yet?

Brenda Waudby was another “mistake.” She was accused of murdering her 21-month-old daughter Jenna in 1997. A pubic hair found on the baby’s body “disappeared” during Dr. Smith’s investigation. Five years later the police found it in his office. Charges against Brenda Waudby were rightly dropped and Jenna’s babysitter was subsequently convicted of her murder.

We’re up to five “mistakes” now, and still counting.

In 1999 Sherry Sherret-Robinson found her four-month-old baby Joshua cold and blue in his crib.

“I will never forget the terror I felt when I reached down to pick him up and discovered that he was blue and his little body was completely stiff,” Sherry said. At the hospital, “eventually the doctors came and told me he had died, and let me hold him to say goodbye. I sang him a lullaby and refused to let go of him. Even to this day, I cannot get the image out of my head.”

Sherry was accused and convicted of murdering her infant boy. Dr. Charles Smith had concluded and testified that Joshua had died of asphyxia, and cited a skull fracture and neck hemorrhages.

Although Sherry had initially pleaded not guilty to infanticide, her lawyer and the Crown drafted an agreed statement of fact that said she smothered Joshua. She spent a year in prison (which I have to say is 24 years too little for someone who murders a baby, but one year too much for someone who didn’t).

In December 2009 Sherry was acquitted of charges after Ontario’s chief forensic pathologist, Dr. Michael Pollanen told the Ontario Court of Appeal that he did not find any skull fracture and the neck hemorrhages were caused during the autopsy process. In other words, Dr. Charles Smith caused the neck hemorrhages himself.

Baby Joshua had died of accidental asphyxia caused by too many blankets under, around and on top of him. Out of love Sherry had swaddled her baby too much.

What compounds this tragedy is that Sherry’s other son, Austin, was taken from her by the Children’s Aid Society and given up for adoption. He is now 15, and she cannot legally see him until he turns 18, and then only if he agrees.

“I hope he will know the truth, but that isn’t up to me; it is up to his adoptive parents. I would give anything to get him back.”

That’s six “mistakes” Dr. Charles Smith committed. Hellworthy yet? Hell yes!

Questions were being raised about Dr. Charles Smith’s performance as a leading pediatric pathologist and star prosecution witness since 1991. Finally, in June 2005 an Ontario coroner’s inquiry reviewed 45 child autopsies in which Dr. Smith had concluded were homicides or criminally suspicious. This inquiry covered the years 1991 to 2002. FYI Dr. Smith had started conducting child autopsies in 1981.

“I am very surprised with the overall results of the review, and concerned,” chief coroner Dr. Barry McLellan said after the coroner’s inquiry. “In a number of cases, the reviewers felt that Dr. Smith had provided an opinion regarding the cause of death that was not reasonably supported by the materials available for review.”

The coroner’s review found that Dr. Charles Smith’s conclusions of foul play were questionable in 20 of the 45 cases. Thirteen of these cases had resulted in criminal convictions.

Can you imagine? Twenty families already upset by the sudden loss of their children were blown apart by accusations of murder and foul play. Instead of receiving community and family support during their grief many were vilified and shunned and, yes, convicted. And that, my friends, is what makes Dr. Charles Smith hellworthy.

After the coroner’s inquiry’s findings were made public in April 2007, the Ontario government ordered a public inquiry into Dr. Charles Smith’s practices. This inquiry was led by Justice Stephen Goudge.

Dr. Smith repeatedly said he was “sorry” and “ashamed” of mistakes that compounded the tragedy of the children’s deaths. He then placed the blame on his ignorance of the criminal justice system and a woefully inadequate education in pediatric forensic pathology.

A leading pediatric pathologist and star prosecution witness ignorant of the justice system and inadequately educated in pediatric pathology? How the hell did he get the job and keep it for almost 25 years? And why would he take the job if he couldn’t do it?

No, his problem wasn’t ignorance of the justice system and an inadequate education. No, his problem was he was on a crusade and was willing to “help” in the prosecution and persecution of people he considered undeserving parents.

Just speculating here, but it is known he was born in a Toronto Salvation Army hospital and given up for adoption at three months of age. He spent years tracking down his biological mother, and when he called her on her 65th birthday the woman refused to take his call. I’m thinking his life circumstances engendered in him a definite hatred toward inadequate parents. But as I say, I’m just speculating.

Back to the inquiry, Justice Goudge concluded that Dr. Charles Smith had “actively misled” his superiors, “made false and misleading statements” in court and exaggerated his expertise in trials. In other words, he lied. A lot.

“Smith was adamant that his failing were never intentional. I simply cannot accept such a sweeping attempt to escape moral responsibility,” stated Justice Goudge. He also added, “Smith lacked basic knowledge about forensic pathologist.” Ouch! A liar AND an incompetent!

The Ontario provincial government has announced compensation up to $250,000 for Dr. Charles’ Smith’s victims. Parents who had their children removed from their custody are entitled to up to $25,000, and other family members are entitled to up to $12,500. Oooh, how magnanimous!

Maurice Gagnon of Sudbury, for one, is happy to get compensation. He spent his $100,000 retirement fund to clear his daughter Lianne in the death of Nicholas, the toddler who hit his head on a table and died.

Many victims are considering suing Dr. Charles Smith himself, but he’s not a multi-millionaire so compensation that route will be more emotional satisfaction than monetary.

Dr. Charles Smith no longer has a license to practice medicine. His marriage broke up since the public inquiry. He’s 57 now, lives in Victoria but he’s not registered as a physician in British Columbia.

What he’s going to do with the rest of his life I don’t know. But after this life I’m thinking there’s a toasty little spot for him in hell.

I daresay that the spacious house in Florida they lived in was not a home. It would be far more accurate to call it a torture chamber. Not of course for John and Linda Dollar, but certainly for five of their eight children.

When John and Linda Dollar went looking for three children to adopt in 1995, they gave every appearance/ of being great parental material. They were already raising five adopted children who seemed happy. John was a commercial real estate appraiser and Linda was a former businesswoman with a master’s degree in education.

The Dollars were also known to be religious — deeply religious, ULTRA religious even. In 1999 they opened a private Christian school called Mountain View Christian Academy in Strawberry Plains, Tennessee. At that time they attended Mount Harmony Baptist Church where most of their children were baptized.

Remember back in 1999 and the big dark cloud on the horizon was Y2K? People were predicting outages and civil unrest and they spent big money on generators? Well the Dollars took Y2K more seriously than most — they were convinced it was the End of the Earth. Their pastor did not agree with them and so the Dollars left the church.

Yes, the Dollars apparently had a direct pipeline to God, and He was telling them that they were right, Armageddon was coming, and everyone else was wrong. I wonder what explanation God gave them when Y2K fizzled into nothing.

Regardless of how Y2K turned out, seven of the eight poor Dollar children found themselves trapped in hell with no escape in sight (the eighth child was grown up and living on her own). The children were being “home schooled” and “home churched” by their parents as they were moved around between Tennessee and Hillsborough County, Polk County and Citrus County in Florida.

What with all the moving, and no school or church, there was nobody on the planet to notice what was happening to the children. And what was happening to them was John and Linda Dollar’s special brand of Christian living.

Now I’m not quite sure which bible they were using. Not mine. Mine says, “Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.”

Apparently John and Linda Dollar didn’t get past “Suffer the little children,” for indeed they made those little children suffer.

See, my version of the bible does not instruct parents to commit monstrous acts upon children. It does not say, “Thou shalt shock thy children with cattle prods,” or “Thou shalt pulleth thy children’s toenails out with pliers.”

OMG can you imagine that? They pulled their children’s toenails out with pliers! And that’s Christian behavior to these f*cking hell beasts?

The bible also does not condone hitting children’s feet with mallets and canes. And it cannot be used to justify starving them nearly to death while locked in a closet. Yet that is precisely what those obsessively religious pieces of sh*t did.

Nobody saw this happening to the children. The neighbours didn’t even know the Dollars had children — they were never outside. Nope, they were locked up in a walk-in closet being taught that they deserved every bit of punishment that was meted out to them.

Nobody knew anything until January 21, 2005 when the Dollars’ 16-year-old son was taken to hospital in Crystal River with a head wound and red marks on his neck. It wasn’t only the head wound and the red marks that tipped off the medical personnel that something wasn’t right — it was also the fact that a 16-year-old hadn’t achieved puberty and weighed a whopping 59 pounds. I’ll let that sink in. Fifty-nine pounds. The skeleton of a grown man weighs about 30 pounds. A brain comes in at around 3 pounds.

To put 59 pounds into my personal perspective, I had a dog that weighed almost double that! My healthy 16-year-old nephew weighs triple that.

So the authorities were advised that something was oh so very wrong with this scenario. Within two weeks they made the trip to the Dollar home to check it out.

The Dollars lived in a spacious house 70 miles north of Tampa. They owned a luxury SUV and a top-of-the-line mobile home. Obviously it wasn’t lack of money that made them cut back the calories for their son. And the pair of them certainly didn’t restrict their own caloric intake. Chubby bastards.

The investigators knew right away they were dealing with a seriously f*cked up situation. The 14-year-old twins were tiny — they weighed 36 and 38 pounds and looked 8 years old. We’re talking years of malnourishment and starvation here.

The children, ages 12 to 17, had a horrifying account to tell. Five of them were spanked with belts, paddles, switches and whips. They were kicked and locked in the closet if they were caught stealing food, and then of course there was the cattle prod. Very Christian upbringing, wasn’t it.

Wait, there’s more. They were taped to chairs, they had chains wrapped around their torsos and they’d be hung until they passed out. Yup, suffer the little children all right, just like the bible says.

Two of the children were given preferential treatment and weren’t punished like their siblings. (Reminds me of Elva Bottineau and Norman Kidman.)

One of the twins told police that his toenails had been ripped out with pliers, and that that had hurt “very bad.” He said he would scream to make the bastards stop.

Police found the toenails and the pliers and the cattle prod. They found blood smears and the mallet and the cane. There was no doubting the stories the children told.

Apparently the physical torture mostly ended the summer of 2004 when John Dollar’s elderly mother moved in with them. You can’t tell me they didn’t know what they were doing was evil if they had to hide it from Mom.

However, the children still didn’t get anywhere near adequate food and sleep. And I can find no explanation for the head wound and neck injuries sustained by the 16-year-old boy. His injuries must have been fairly serious if they were enough to scare the hell beasts into getting him to a hospital.

John and Linda Dollar hit the road and were arrested in Utah after two weeks of being on the lam. They were brought back to Florida to face aggravated child abuse charges.

The pair, if convicted at trial, could have faced 150 years in prison. However, the prosecutor offered them a deal that gave them each only 15 years in prison. The offer was made to protect the children and spare them the ordeal of facing their tormentors in court. And as much as I’d like to think of that pair of hell beasts rotting their whole lives away in a cell, I applaud the prosecutor for putting the children’s needs first.

In court, dressed in jumpsuits and chained at the waist, the Dollars admitted they let the situation get out of hand.

“We are sorry that the children are hurt,” John Dollar said. “We are firm believers in the God almighty … because of those principles we were led to do certain things.” Certain things like torture?

“It was not intentional that they be harmed in any way,” said John Dollar. “They were not responsible. We love them, wish them well.” And then he started to cry. Boo effing hoo, bastard.

Their lawyer claimed they were overwhelmed by adopting eight children, some of whom had special needs and came from dysfunctional families. Well, their parenting skills certainly made sure that if the children didn’t have special needs before, they sure do now.

Some of the children were placed in a residential treatment program, and others were placed in foster care. Some understandably stopped using Dollar as their surname. The court psychiatrist testified that they were like POWs, suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Poor kids.

I wish the children a lifetime of health, happiness and peace. I hope they are so blessed in the future. And I think you can guess what I wish on John and Linda Dollar — yup, a toasty place in hell.

Editor’s Notes: Now do you all see what happens when you mix religion with crazy people? You get monsters like John and Linda Dollar. Hmm, maybe it would be more effective if I told you that what you get is a pair of 14-year-old twins who weigh in at 35 and 38 pounds, EIGHTY POUNDS under their normal weight for their age. Eighty fucking pounds!

I’m sure that, when asked “What Would Jesus Do?” when raising children, neither John nor Linda Dollar would have answered, “Starve them nearly to death.”

But what bothered me the most about these “Good, God fearing folk” was the ridiculous grins on both their faces in their mugshots. It just goes to show how easily they had put their children out of their minds. It looked like they were having the times of their lives during their arrests. They weren’t even concerned about the charges against them – probably because they didn’t think they had done all that much wrong.

I used to believe that it was our instinct as humans to protect and care for our children, no matter who the mom and dad were. Today I realize how naive I was for having such a belief. Not only do we have these two neanderthals masquerading as parents, John and Linda Dollar, but we have all the people throughout the years that encountered these children in the pitiful state them must have been in and chose not to get involved. There must have been dozens of them.

Fortunately, these five kids survived their ordeal – Too many have not. Maybe someday people will get tired of stories like this, or their consciences will nag at them enough, and they won’t hesitate to get involved. Then maybe I’ll stop feeling so foolish for believing we owe our children everything we can give them, and more.

Tempers flared inside a northwestern Tennessee courtroom Monday night as residents and local firefighters argued about the expansion of a local subscription-only fire-department policy, one that has ignited debate across the country. Three weeks ago, an elderly couple in Obion County, Tennessee, lost their trailer and four pets when firefighters refused to extinguish the conflagration. The trailer was located in a rural section of the county that does not have its own fire department, so five surrounding municipalities respond as needed, with three others responding only to subscribers. Gene and Pauline Cranick had forgotten to pay an annual $75 subscription fee for rural fire protection — so the South Fulton Fire Department helped only the Cranicks’ neighbors, who were paid subscribers.

The International Association of Fire Fighters has condemned the South Fulton Fire Department’s inaction as “incredibly irresponsible.” Pundits painted the family as victims of Tea Party politics or, alternately, as freeloaders. Every fire department in Obion County received complaint calls and e-mails, even those not directly involved. “I’m asking the Lord to visit a curse upon every person involved,” said one caller in a voice mail. “May your house burn down as well.”

Over the objections of firefighters and many residents, the Obion County commission voted 15 to 3 to expand subscription-based service throughout the county. Beginning July 2011, all fire departments in the area — including the five that have answered calls at no charge for the past three decades — will require residents to pay the annual fee. Fire chief Bob Reavis of Hornbeak, one of the municipalities in the county, had opposed the expansion of the “pay to spray” policy, arguing that more houses would burn. “It’s a public-safety issue,” he said. “Subscriptions should be left to newspapers and magazines.”

But the county’s mayor, Benny McGuire, said that only one-third of Obion County (which is 555 square miles and has a population of 32,450) had access to rural service before Monday’s vote and that the commission’s move will extend protection to everyone, albeit at a price. It was, said McGuire, “probably the best we can do.” The subscription service is not final: in February 2012, residents will vote on whether they want rural fire service and how to fund it.

But firefighting isn’t cheap. The National Volunteer Fire Council estimates the cost of equipping and training a firefighter at $27,095. Trucks cost range in price from $150,000 to $750,000. Volunteer departments feel the strain, and bake sales, fish fries and donation drives go only so far to meet minimum operating expenses. McGuire said he sympathized with the Cranicks but that it was an economic issue: only those who subscribe get served.

Yet statistics show that in communities that have subscription fees for firefighting, less than 70% of people pay subscription fees, and that number is as low as 40% in the early years of a subscription campaign. In 2006, firefighters responded to 245 rural calls in Obion County. Assuming a 30% nonparticipation rate, Reavis said as many as 75 homes could have burned. The fire department of Rives, one of those responding as needed in Obion, does not charge a subscription fee but sends a $500 bill after it has rendered services. Reavis says, however, that half of the homeowners fail to pay.

At the conclusion of the meeting, many firefighters expressed disappointment but said they will abide by the commission’s rules. “It’s not the right thing to do,” said Stan Mitchell, a volunteer firefighter with the Rives Fire Department. “But I’ve been doing this too long to quit.”

“This ain’t the way to fix it,” Reavis concluded. “God save us all.”

Major thank you to VCBecky for sending us the link to this story. It appears that city council DID NOT learn anything from letting Gene Crannick’s house burn to the ground. I feel very sad right now…

Scott and Jennifer Petkov are two of those people.

You see, when Jennifer Petkov sent a text message to the grandmother of young Kathleen Edward, asking if her own children could come to Kathleen’s birthday party, and the grandmother didn’t reply quickly enough for Jennifer’s liking, that’s when the shit hit the fan.

Apparently, this was such a slight, such a slap in the face, that Jennifer Petkov went from a seemingly normal neighbor to, for lack of a better term, a psycho bitch from hell.

Now remember, this didn’t happen a few days ago, or a few weeks ago. This horrible incident of public humiliation happened THREE YEARS AGO.

Hold a grudge much?

Young Kathleen’s mother Laura passed away at the young age of 24 from Huntington’s disease, a degenerative brain disorder marked by uncontrollable flailing movements and seizures. Tragically, the disease is genetic, and Laura passed the gene to her adorable daughter Kathleen.

By the time she is 15, Kathleen will probably be unable to care for herself without around the clock help. She’ll lose the ability to speak, walk, or perform even the simplest of tasks. By age 18, she’ll be institutionalized, unable to control her muscle movements.

Kathleen will never see 20-years-old.

But Scott and Jennifer Petkov had been wronged, and where their honor is concerned, there’s no room for sentiment.

Over the past three years the Petkov and the Edward/Rose families have been to court for mediation to settle disputes between them. Currently there is a personal protection order (PPO) in place against the Petkovs.

Just recently, Scott Petkov painted “DEATH MACHINE” and an image of the Grim Reaper on the side of his pickup truck, dragged a coffin past the Edwards’ house, and taunted the little girl.

Jennifer Petkov, being a master of Photoshop, apparently, created images of Laura Edward wrapped in the arms of Death himself, and superimposed Kathleen’s face onto a skull-and-crossbones image and posted the oh-so-hilarious pictures on her Facebook page.

Good, decent, moral people around the world vomited with disgust and rage. The story quickly went viral, and the Petkovs started receiving hate mail from all over the world.

At the same time, donations and messages of support and encouragement poured in to Kathleen and her grandmother’s home in Detroit. I bet that Jennifer, the Wicked Witch of the Upper Midwest, wasn’t happy about that.

There’s not really much more that can be said about Scott and Jennifer Petkov. I wish I was a writer with a larger vocabulary, so I could do this story justice. I can’t. In fact, the more I write, the more I want to get into my car, drive the three or so hours to Trenton, MI (near Detroit) and give these two wastes of oxygen a piece of my mind.

If ever there was a case of absolute evil, complete lack of morals, and missing conscience, it’s the Petkovs.

I’m sorry that this article can’t be longer, Dear Reader. Just thinking about these disgusting, vile “humans” is making me sick, and I seriously might have to throw up.

If you are the type that believes in a loving, forgiving God, then pray for these two. That little girl will be with her mother soon, and she will be happy again. These two miserable fucksticks will never see the forgiveness they so desire – at least, not from me.

I’m so sorry that this had to happen, little Kathleen. You’re an adorable, lovable girl who, through no fault of your own, has been stricken with a terrible disease that will end your life before it even has a chance to start. When you get to the Afterlife, you give your mommy a hug. You will never hurt again.

Jennifer and Scott Petkov: you are a perfect example of why sites like this exist. I will stop short of wishing you physical harm, because I know that what goes around comes around, and you’ll get yours in the end, in the form of a pitchfork in the ass.

And now I am literally at a loss for words. May God have mercy on your soul … because you certainly don’t deserve any from us on Earth!

Editor’s Notes: Apparently Scotty, and Jennifer Petkov have figured out that having a big chunk of the online community angry at you isn’t a good thing, not to mention that the horrible publicity their campaign of terror against a dying 7-year-old girl has caused Scott Petkov’s employer to suspend him (with pay). Yesterday they both called a press conference and issues an apology of sorts to little Kathleen and her family.

Jennifer Petkov’s attitude when she was first confronted by reporters outside her home, as she displayed it in the first video clip, show exactly the kind of people the Petrovs are, and they don’t show any signs of changing soon. I believe Jennifer is seriously mentally ill, and Scott is a codependent pussy who is afraid she will turn her wrath on him some day. I’m sure glad they live 1500 miles away from me, although I think they may be changing residences very, very soon.