Speculations

Yes, it is sad that Samuel Longwell, by occupation a cook as listed, was possibly sentenced to jail and possibly spent time there although I really don't know what happened. Why did Sam take the money? Did this taking of money involve a burglary or forced entry? If so, why were these charges not included in the complaint? And if not, how could the money have been taken without the knowledge of the chiropractor? And if the chiropractor knew that the money was taken, then how could he and the other plaintiffs not know what the money part of an investment in drilling an oil well? And what did Sam actually do with the money if he did not hand all of it over to my great-grandfather? How much money in all did Sam take? What happened to the other money not accounted for by my great-grandfather's testimony? Yes, according to the diaries my great-grandfather, before turning himself in to the authorities, went out looking for Sam at some unidentified hotel or restaurant in downtown Los Angeles where Sam was employed. Why did Sam not want to turn himself in to the authorities together with my great-grandfather at that time and had to be arrested later? My great-grandfather came back and turned himself in alone. And how did Sam die? Was Sam murdered by someone, perhaps even my own Dad or other relative of mine? I cannot even imagine how that could happen but there was a hot gun floating around somewhere and lots of people have very vivid imaginations about these things, always trying to fill in the blanks with various worst-case scenarios about what might or might not have happened, as we can deduce. And then, sadly, my great-grandfather died shortly before the end of his five-year probation of some ailment. Hopefully it was not self-induced. Oddly, both his own brother and Samuel Longwell died the same year. And whatever became of Sam's daughter Yula Longwell and his son William Longwell? Yes, everyone pities them because their father was possibly sentenced to spend time in the city jail, possibly a year if that actually happened. And why are these reckless vigilantes and mobsters so convinced that my great-grandfather was not telling the truth or something? Sometimes the documents lie, too. We have to remember that. I probably would feel sorry for them too had I been aware of their existence. And why does everyone imagine my thoughts to be so much worse than reality and my high level of integrity and Christian character and my low level, yeah, non-existent level of knowledge of the facts of the case would merit. I don't think it is fair that I should be left ignorant of these events and thus left vulnerable to the antics of loudmouth sleazy mafia stooges masquerading as Baretta-like table waiters. Grandma liked watching the TV program "Baretta" but of course that was long before the actor's wife died so mysteriously. Anyway, you are perhaps wanting to get to the bottom of my Dad's smoking gun and all the things he is not telling us or pretending not to know about these events. And if there was a gun, who is to say that Sam was the target of it? I don't have a clue. You really should ask them. I do think my relatives know more about this than they are letting on.

The Greedy Relatives

Yes, we are so disgusted with the selfish greedy Butterfields. They created this huge mess and then they run away and leave us here to pick up the pieces and try to figure out what on earth they are talking about. We really don't have a clue what they did to make so many people so angry at them about something although we are not sure what. And then they get upset with us because we are just not on the same page but anyway it's mostly their fault because they won't share information. They just sit up there in a tree yapping and howling about something but we don't understand so we can't help them. Sorry, but you have to communicate.

My Pre-Planned Demise

It is fairly obvious to everyone that my demise was preplanned. All of the authorities conspired together against me from an early age, especially after three, so obviously I never had a chance. It is not like anything I ever did right would matter and it is not anything I ever did wrong would ever be forgiven. Thus, nothing I do or say matters. That is the way it looks to me. I am not exactly deaf. I am not nearly as dumb as they seem to imagine. Thus, when I read the Bible and it tells me that if my brother has something against me, to leave my gift at the altar and go make peace and then come back and give the gift, I see that this verse really does not apply to me. For one thing, I don't have a brother, only one sister. Also, it would be impossible for me to make peace with them. Obviously no one is going to give me a break and write me out of the farcical drama staged by the Baptist Freemasons from Hell club, headed by the devil himself actually, so if everything depended on them I would never be able to attain the requisite peaceful condition and return to the altar to deliver my gift, whatever that means. It is just a Bible verse that may or may not apply to a particular set of circumstances. I strongly feel that this verse does not apply to my case. I vaguely remember discussing this verse with someone at some time in the past. However, I believe that the Baptist Freemasons from Hell are not my brothers in this biblical sense and I intuitively sense that their intentions toward me are entirely of a malicious and malevolent nature. I believe that a different Bible verse applies in this circumstance, which is the admonition not to cast my pearls before swine where my gift would only be trampled underfoot. Thus, it makes perfect sense for me to practice the avoidance of any Baptist Freemasons from Hell whenever and wherever they may be detected, even if they are high school classmates. They just would not understand. I could try to explain but....

The Price Connection

Yes, we fail to comprehend the public interest in the Price attached to our family tree. My great-grandmother's cousin, Nellie Ermina Smith (born 1897) was married to a doctor, Chester Arthur Price of Illinois and they had three Price children, Patricia, Joseph and Chester Jr. So? Obviously there is no connection between the doctor and the Canadian evangelist Charles Price. Obviously that is a whole different story.

The Divorce

Yes, it is rather awkward to have my uncle and his divorce problems clouding the family picture. He dumped Linda, the mother of his two daughters, and married Kay and now spends most of his time hanging out with her daughters. Browsing around in Ancestry.com, we learn that Linda's sister married a Hawkins man. Interestingly, I recall that a college classmate at SCC, Charlotte Rosser, also married to a Hawkins man. Hmmm.... I wonder if the in-laws of Linda are related to the in-laws of Charlotte? Yes, well, it would be too awkward to ask, obviously. We don't even socialize with Linda, who was always rather sour toward us and mean to my grandparents, so obviously there would be no reason for us to socialize with Linda's probably likewise soured Jenewein connections, even if they also may be conservative churchgoers of the Assemblies of God denomination, as are we, and even if my uncle obviously would socialize with all those other people he has participated in souring, probably. I don't really know this but if every other jabberwocky can make mincemeat out of the public records, why should not I not do the same?

The China Johnsons vs. The Triplett Johnsons

It is rather sad to see the Triplett/Johnson family fawning and bowing before the golden calf of American prosperity, a mass of glittery castle glitz to which their fondest dreams and affections are firmly and indissolubly attached. And if Jesus asked the French-fried Triplett/Johnsons to sell all of their worldly possessions and hop on a boat to China to minister to the poor and underprivileged Chinese, to forsake any future hope of worldly power and prestige and hobnobbing in the upper echelons of society, to train up native leaders who will eventually make the missionary's job obsolete, never again to see their glittery castle on a hill, would they, nay even could they obey? Or would they have some excuse as usual. Something about their own personal prestige and power being more dear to them then God and country, a bag of gold being more dearly loved by them than friend or foe. Well, we see that back in the olden days, back during the times when my great-grandparents did just that and went to China, there were also other missionaries in China who were the Johnson family, Leland and Helen Johnson to be precise, but we don't know very much about their story. I imagine they may have been acquainted with my ancestors but I really don't know anything about that. Why were the poor missionary Johnsons forgotten by their kindred Johnsons of higher wealth and status? I really don't have a clue. I just know that someone should remind somebody upstairs that our family is not descended from Leland and Helen Johnson. That is a whole different story which would be interesting to hear told in a logical and orderly fashion, not mish-mashed together into a huge disorderly mess, all mixed together with Captain Cook's explorations of the South Pacific. Someone probably could explain this if the jabberwocky blabbermouths would finally be silent and let the truth come out.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely recall at SCC a group of girls asked me to play piano accompanying their skit which featured a song from the "Chorus Line" or  some such Broadway musical which was at that time so popular. So I played their little song as they requested for the skit they had planned and they did their thing on stage and then later I remember that I got lost backstage trying to find my way out there, through a maze of wires and things that were all over the place. I apparently had made a wrong turn and was heading toward a place where I might be seen by the audience and so Rusty Wycoff snapped at me. Of course, Rusty is always angry with me so no big deal. We get used to the fact that these people are always angry with us and whining and complaining about something and then after a while we just don't care anymore. At least now I don't. At the time I was mortified.