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Copyright 2002 - 2007       I    Text and Photography by Dieter Rolf Fischer, unless indicated             Above photos: Telstra

 

 

20.  The Role of XX    

As I start this chapter (on October 11th 07) light rain is falling in Adelaide. On the radio the main subject is, and has been for months now, the widespread, prolonged drought and the impact it is having on Australian farmers.

"Words can't describe the hardship ..." is one farmer's comment, as I type.

On radio earlier in the morning  I heard Green Senator Nettle again fly her true colours. She once again pushed her favourite agenda, the removal of all discrimination against gay and lesbian couples. Both our main parties, Labor and Liberal, are against same sex marriages. Labor's policy, as I understand it, is a register of civil unions.

Those opposing gay marriage fear that the push for recognition by same sex couples will not stop at civil unions. History has shown that major social changes have come about by small, vocal minorities slowly, but persistently challenging the traditional values of the silent moral majority. Sadly, the sleeping majority only wakes up, when bad laws are in place and they see the effect it is having on society. South Australia's bad poker machine laws are a good example.

Moments before starting this chapter I emailed Senator Nettle and tried to expain (sic) in the most gentle way that God loves all people. HE created male and female for the two to become one. This way, HIS way, the human race has started and continued since Day 1. I concluded my message on the Senator's website: "Please consider what, and more importantly who, you are fighting against - God Almighty".

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Driving from Adelaide to Melbourne, along the Duke's Highway, the landscape is flat and plain. The drought Australia was suffering from, made the vast landscape between the two states even plainer looking than normally. My wife and I were on our way to meet our daughter and her partner. The had booked an apartment in Melbourne's Southbank and invited us to spend the June long weekend with them.

As always when travelling my brain observed the world passing by with its own peculiar way of interpreting what it sees.  At the time the number 4 was fresh. I had a day earlier uploaded the first chapter of Book 6, the book you are reading. At the first stop in Gilles Plains, to fill the car with petrol, another vehicle arrived. The registration plate ...XL 040 made sense.

Later in the day, in Beaufort, during a brief stop and stroll around this lovely little town, I saw a vehicle, filling up with petrol. It carried rego ...867. The date was the 8th of June 07. But registration numbers don't surprise me to the same degree they once had.

If there were a code word for that Friday it should have been boat. A number of boats drew my attention that day. The first boat crossed my mind, as we were crossing the River Murray, an hour out of Adelaide. On the banks, looking downstream from the bridge, I noticed 4 sailing boats. The were moored on the shore, on their own, with nothing else nearby, no people or other boats. They looked odd with their sails up, unattended.

Next, only meters after crossing the bridge, I noticed a large motorboat on a trailer, parked beside the road. I think there was a for sale ...  (Hey, I just thought of it - for sale = 4 sail? Weird, very weird) ........sign on it. There would have been a name or a model number on that boat, but at the speed we were travelling, I could not read any, nor how much the boat cost.

The biggest boat story on that day, possibly all year in Australia, was the grounding of a huge bulk carrier during a big storm. The 225 m long, 40 000 tonne-bulk carrier, Pasha Bulker had run aground after leaving Newcastle harbour. (The same storm was to cause widespread flooding of the Hunter River. The vessel stayed stranded for about three weeks). 

One final boat must be mentioned. We had parked our Suzuki beside the Wimmera River in Horsham, Victoria  It was near the entrance to the Caravan Park. As we were eating our sandwiches we were looking right at a piece of artwork, a mural of a boat, made entirely out of many small, round, coloured reflectors.

A sign erected beside the mural, which was about the size of a car, read: If this artwork is damaged please ring No. ...... Well, there was no real damage, only one reflector missing. Where there should have been 4 red reflectors, there were only 3.

Since the authorities had especially placed a sign, I felt it was my civil duty to inform them of the missing red reflector. I phoned the number and left a recorded message. My wife probably was thinking to herself: My next husband will be normal.

We did not have to wait long at Avalon airport, Geelong, before our daughter's plane landed. The wait came afterwards, while they searched, unsuccessfully, and made enquires about one of their suitcases, which never appeared on the conveyor. However, this delay gave me a chance to take a little look around.

In the small arrival terminal I noticed a statue. It was of famous singer Dame Nellie Melba, holding a song sheet. The well-known opera super star was actually born Helen Porter Mitchell. Her father was David Mitchell, her mother Isabella Ann. Nellie was born on 19/5 in 1361 and died in 1936 - or was it 1861 and 1931?

(What's minus 500 here,  plus 5 there...? Then again, if you divided 500 into 5 you arrive at 100. Lady Melba is the face on the Australian 100 Dollar note note).

The song sheet, part of the Dame Nellie Melba sculpture, was rather appropriate for the arrival lounge in an airport - Home, sweet home ...". Amazing what one can learn, because of one lost suitcase.

The early morning walk on my own the next day, Saturday 9/6/07, became a walk down memory lane. Southbank is a reasonably new development, separated from Melbourne's Central Business District by the Yarra River. As I do when I visit Melbourne, I made a point of checking out the parking meter in Elizabeth Street. The serial No. has changed a few times since the original JE1. When I walked past that morning the Number was JE 1 B.

Around the corner I crossed the road to check out Federation Square, the large, paved square between the Yarra and St. Paul's Cathedral. Among the thousands of paver bricks, visitors find artistic lettering. For a creative brain like mine, such artwork is a honey pot for coded messages.

Just for fun I noted this one into my diary: YOUAREIWOORTHIT. Is the hidden meaning the slogan of a famous cosmetics company - YOU'RE WORTH IT? If so, only the letters I A O remain. Just on editing another version is possible - YOU'R(E) WORT (German for word) HIT.

On various screens positive text messages kept scrolling down continuously. Just as I walked by I read a very familiar quote: "What dream would you dream, if you knew you could not fail?" It is by Robert Schuller. In chapter 11 of Book 4 is photo with just that message. I took it outside Dr. Schuller's church, the Crystal Cathedral in Orange Grove, California.

Next I crossed the road to St. Paul's Cathedral, right near the southern steps. The place holds a fond memory of a candle blowing in the wind. A week after I had launched Book 4, Candle and the wind, I made a trip to Melbourne and seen a candle on those steps.

Instead of a candle that June morning the steps were littered with discarded food and drink containers. How somebody could consume food and drink, and just leave their rubbish behind, I cannot understand, especially since a bin was only a few steps away. So I cleaned up the mess, just to make the church steps look like church steps.

A driver in a mini-bus, parked very close by, was watching me. The registration plate was ..NY 019.

Strange that - on 3/10/07 I had occasion to take a photo of a mini-bus with a group of jurors inside, visiting the place of an alleged crime - the registration plate was ..019. (Read on).

Seconds later, around the corner in Swanston Street, near the western entrance to St. Paul's Cathedral, I found a 20-cent and a 10-cent coin. It felt as if I was instantly rewarded for keeping the streets of Melbourne clean.

The next stop on my walk down memory lane was Little Collins Street. I especially checked out No. 505, the place I previously had had some fun at. There were more bits of rubbish; another clean-up job, but no reward, not even 30 cents.

Near AXA Plaza, the location of the big M, a car was parked, registration No. ..NY 057 (or 75). The letters were identical to that on the Minibus near the cathedral, only the number was different. This drew my attention, which in turn made me notice more trash on the roadway. (Melbournians are a messy lot on Friday nights). A large piece of white foam was littering the street by the ...NY car. I felt compelled to pick it up.

My way back in the Apartment on Southbank was via the footbridge over the Yarra. This is where I noticed the cone, next to the light under the bridge. (Picture and story in Chapter 16).

Back at the apartment those who had no memory lane to visit, but preferred to sleep in, had risen. However, we could not go exploring Melbourne yet, since my daughter's clothes were inside the wayward suitcase. Lucky it had been located by the airline, and was to be delivered sometime during the morning.

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Here are two examples where I discovered spelling errors online recently. It happens constantly. In these two examples I saw the code a i, (in capital letters A I).

1.  Researching this chapter I surfed a webpage for the Victorian Tourist Department. There were three mistakes in one article: 

prividing  ( i )

Wimmer River   ( a ) - should be Wimmera?

mcKenzie Creek  (small mc?)

 

2.  Driving back from Port Adelaide on Saturday 13/10/07 I crossed the bridge over Port Wakefield Road. (In Book 4, Chapter 3 I had also crossed this bridge and seen a long train. All carriages were plain, only one was painted differently - Lone Wolf).

That Saturday, right on that bridge, a vehicle in the lane beside displayed a company name, a phone number and a name to contact. The name was Wolf. How co-incidental - or was it?

Driving to Coromandel Valley that same afternoon I again saw the same vehicle. The next day I googled the company. What was I to find? It took about 5 minutes before I saw this:

 In their About US page was a misspelled word - abittoirs. It should be spelled with a not i (A I).   

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The tourist information office at Federation Square had mentioned to me casually that the Dalai Lama was speaking in Melbourne that afternoon. They were expecting about 30 000 people to flock to Princes Park. Somehow, I sensed some fun, so I considered going to hear the Tibetan spiritual Leader. When I told the others, only my daughter showed some interest, but was reluctant to commit herself.

The suitcase arrived, thank God. After lunch we finally all got moving together. We took the  tourist bus, the free shuttle between the main tourist destinations. As the bus passed Lygon Street, my daughter was still undecided weather to join me for a spiritual journey to Princes Park. When the bus stopped, near Elgin Street, I knew I had to go it alone. I said a brief: "See you at the Hotel" and existed the bus. I chatted to a young couple, who was also walking to the big spiritual event.

As if timed with a genuine Rolex, I entered the sportsground just as the legendary Tibetan leader was welcomed to the podium. As usual he wore his orange robe and smiling face.

 

 

Against the big screen the real Dalai Lama (far left) looked dwarfed.

His Holiness drew a crowd of about 100, the other 29 900 came just for an afternoon out in fine weather.

Isn't such a big crowd an indication that many are looking for ways to fill the inner void, drawing sensitive minds to worship a higher being? To truly satisfy this longing - try Jesus.

The Dalai Lama in his introduction, spoke rather cynical about healing. "Don't come to me for healing, I can't heal anybody. I have a rash on my neck and it's not going away. So I put on cream."

That is where Jesus stands out - he did not only preach healing, HE healed people. I don't know how, only that it was so.

*Stop Press - How timely! As I am editing this text, at 10.03 am on 16/10/07, I heard an item in the ABC Radio News. A company director was charged in the Federal Court in Melbourne with price fixing in the cardboard industry. The blue billboard in above photo (right under END) is the company involved.

**Stop Press - Further News 10.31: The business man agreed to pay 36 million Dollars for his misdeeds. (Card-board, really, is not a very sexy product, but visy (sic) lucrative, obviously).

 

  A huge crowd came to hear HIS Holiness at Princes Park. Notice the girl on her dad's shoulders - her eyes look directly at DANKA - Danke is German for thank you. (This photo was not planned that way).

            Picture below: DL brochure

Who is MC - ER?

Please note:  Merc is not the model of automobile His Holiness drives. Merc is the name of his donkey. Now, where did I read that? Unless ...?

The colours of the balloons are identical to those of Australia's Surf Life Saving Association. You all knew that. 

Merc.handise: Ordinary printed T-shirts were prized at $ 35. Those with a collar cost $ 45. I had my eyes on the balloons, but they were not for sale.

Stop Press** Another timely news item: President George Bush agreed to meet the Dalai Lama. Will he reveal his big secret to the President - what is he wearing underneath the orange robe?

Stop Press again***  Only hours before typing this HIS Holiness received the highest civilian award the US Congress bestows - a Gold Medal.

(I suspect, the 72 year old had to wait until 2007 to receive this high award, but only after agreeing to reveal the secrets of his Chinese made underwear. The Chinese are obviously upset. It smells of industrial espionage).     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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That evening, both my wife and I separately, had a special treat. Both were totally unplanned. On the way back from my pilgrimage to Princes Park I happened to walk past St. John's Chapel, Southbank. From inside I could hear beautiful singing. A closer look revealed a choir inside, obviously rehearsing. Then I saw the notice in the window: A free concert that evening by the National Boys Choir, plus a visiting choir from Texas.

Since my daughter and her partner decided to go out for dinner by themselves, I tried to enthuse my wife about the free concert. Not even the proximity of the venue, virtually across the road from our apartment, could sell my plan. Perhaps, if tickets had sold for twenty (XX) Dollars, I may have had more success?

The concert made for a most wonderful evening. If tickets had been sold for 20 Dollars, it still would have been well worth it. The youngest singer looked less than ten years old. One of the first songs brought tears to my eyes: Be still for the presence of the Lord, the Holy One is here.

At one point in the concert, each of the American boys moved from the stage into the audience and held the hands of people, while singing a song. After a hug toward the end of the song, the boys took to the platform again and finished their song. It was a very touching moment in every sense of the word.

Isobel, unaware of what she missed out on, had fun of her own. During interval I had seen a reflection of red/blue flashing lights nearby, but never gave it much thought. When I arrived back at the apartment, I learned a fire had broken out on the same floor we were staying. The building had to be evacuated, while the fire was quickly brought under control. The damage was minimal, mostly caused by smoke and water.

I resisted the temptation to lecture Isobel: "Now, if you had been an obedient wife ... "

- - - - - - -

 

On Sunday Morning I rose at 4 am. To my surprise I was able to tune into The Hour of Power on TV. The special guest at the Crystal Cathedral was Michael Chang, the tennis ace. Michael told of his faith in Jesus Christ and the story of the Chang Family Foundation. The inspiring interview demonstrated, once again, how God can use even sport to spread HIS Good News. The name Chan would at the end of the day cross my path.

Regardless where I am, if at all possible Sunday mornings I attend church. During my long walk back from Princes Park the day before, I had seen a church in Swanston Street: Cross Culture Church of Christ. That sounded like a good place to go.

As I was getting dressed that morning I distinctly remember changing socks and putting on my printed 51 socks, the pair I had bought as a souvenir in Germany. (Story Chapter 7).

I was running late, so I drove to church, while the rest of the family slept in. At the second or third intersection, as I waited for the green traffic light, I noticed two things. The street I was turning into was called Power Street. (Three days earlier I had uploaded the first chapter of this book, Power 4 More). The second observation was a For Lease sign at Hanover House. The phone number ended in ...10 9 666 - (19 and 3 6's).

All this must sound strange and repetitive to readers. But I tell it as it is. Would I ever get used to this linking or get cured from it, if it were a mental deficiency of some unknown variety? Well more was to come minutes later.

I was approx. 15 minutes late to church. Without giving it any thought, or being ushered to a seat, I sat down in a seat to my left, simply because there were two vacant seats. During the service my numbers brain started counting. It sounds childish, but I was sitting in row 5 on the 1st seat. If I counted the seats in the other block, running at right angle to my left, I worked out, I was sitting in seat 15 in row 5.

At the conclusion of the service to make conversation with a lady, who had sat near me, I showed her the socks I was wearing and said: "I've never been here before, but today I must have sat in the correct seat, in row 5 in the first seat". I must have sounded like a weird church goer, the type they call 51/50 in the US.

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Around lunch time, finally out of the Hotel on the tourist trail, all of us were walking though Melbourne Central, a huge shopping complex. An interesting store displayed pictures, some autographed, and memorabilia of celebrities. A photo of Mohammed Ali, the boxer, came with his famous, self-aggrandizing slogan: "I am the greatest" (He didn't tell us the greatest .... what?) Until that day I had not heard of the second part of Ali's slogan, written underneath his portrait: "Is Jesus Christ really God?"

Following the lost suitcase nuisance, and the small fire on our floor of the Hotel, what else could be going wrong? It came minutes later. After exiting the celebrity shop a call came from the hotel. Why had we not checked out that morning?

It was back to the hotel to sort out the error. Finally, as we were driving toward St. Kilda, to spend our  tourist Dollar, (I had put mine into the church offering that morning) my daughter realized she had forgotten her handbag. So it was again - back to City Road, find a car park, pick up the handbag, (Yes, we'll wait for you darling - how did she know I felt like ...?) and finally - where is the road to Saint killed 'er?

Saint Kilda was buzzing with people like us, chasing a seat in a Cafe and agonizing what cake to order, because there were so many to choose from. No trouble spending the other tourist dollar. My daughter chose the place, as woman do, when it comes to going out. I smiled when I realize what a nice name she had picked -  Le Bon Cafe in Acland Street.

Strolling among the crowd a vehicle drove by. In the rear window in large letters it read: IT'S ALL GOOD. Reacting to our frustrating start to the day, my peace-loving wife commented: "Let's make that our slogan". I said: "Well, since we live in Goodall Road, why not? (Any urges to kill had now subsided). 

An athletic looking man, a little girl at his side, was walking out of a fast food store. I recognised the famous face, but who was it? It took a day or two to recall his name. It was a footballer, whose surname in my code reads RE:B HE on T. He wore a sports top, showing in large letters MONACO. 

Later in the evening another famous man on TV, named Mc.Man.us (dots added) made pretty crude remarks concerning Paris Hilton. I had just returned from a church service at St. Paul's Cathedral and was not in a frame of mind for a joke about Paris Hilton, nor her or anybody else's rash. So I invited everyone to come for a walk along Riverside Quay; no takers. I went alone.

I had nowhere specifically in mind. Within minutes I strolled along the Yarra toward the Crown Casino. There was much life on Southbank, Cafes and restaurants, filled with diners, enjoying the magic of the evening.

At the end of the block I noticed a posh looking Chinese restaurant. The sign read: Lucky Chan Restaurant. I recalled having seen Michael Chang on TV that morning. Why would this make anyone take a look at the menu beside the entrance? It don't know, but I did. Had I not done so I may never have discovered the following:

On one side of the front door the small letter L (part of Lucky) was slightly damaged. Part of the vertical section was missing. The other side of the glass door also showed Lucky Chan, in equally small (postage stamp-size) letters. Here the L was completely missing. The next letter (U) only showed half - which made it into a J.

But there was more. Beside the front door in a small window was the menu. To decorate the windows, perhaps to illustrate the word lucky, 4 very small dices had been placed in front of the menu. The way they were placed I found intriguing -  5  1  1  3 - in that order. (Much later back in Adelaide I googled the Lucky Chan. Their phone number consists of nothing but 9, 6 and 3s).

But there was more to discover as I continued my evening stroll. I went to check out the Crown Casino. Again I had no plan, but  for some reason my steps gravitated toward the two huge entrance doors, which led to the hotel lobby. It was right underneath the Hotel's tall landmark tower.

Inside was an art display, mainly large paintings. One particular one, just inside to the entrance doors, took my attention. It may have been the signature of the artist, Dora 07, which triggered something in my brain. D o r a  are the letters for road. Dora's surname in the signature was Levakis.

I just knew IT - there was something in this name. It only took an e to create leave, and an s to come up with kiss. Suddenly this unusual name of the lady painter became - kiss leave road.

Researching four months later, to write this chapter, it got even weirder. Typing this alleged painter's name into Google took me to the website of Monash University Melbourne. There I discovered a webpage, a picture, with the name of two woman. The first had a surname starting with M, the second a Christian name starting with B.

Why did I see a significance? This same name, Mrs. B M, is the key contact person in Queensland, who has evidence of Mr. Liddy's main accuser lying about child sex abuse. 

The address of this person is also very interesting - Newman.

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Souvenirs from Melbourne

On two separate days, but not far apart, during the weekend in Melbourne I picked up above buttons on Melbourne's Southbank.

The writing on the black one reads: M-ONE-11 INTERNATIONAL.

I did email my button find to a TV Show, including a picture. Strange, a day or two later they broadcast a segment exclusively on buttons. Plus, somebody, very close, took a trip to the City - to buy buttons.

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We said good-bye to our daughter and her partner with mixed feelings. The weekend had not been a total success, apart from finding codes, which meant nothing to my family. (And all were still alive and well).

Cruising west back towards Adelaide, near Ballarat, the Suzuki seemed to lose power momentarily, regain it, then lose it again. We continued driving, but it was apparent something was not working as it should. I assumed there was blockage somewhere, which cleared itself. At Horsham I tried to find a mechanic on duty, but since it was a Monday-long weekend, this was impossible. We had little choice but to drive on at 10-15 kilometres slower than normal.

The fault turned out to be a spark plug lead, which had worn through. Without this mishap, however, we probably would not have decided to take a prolonged stop at Stawell, where we ate lunch. Stawell is the town, where I spotted and photographed the street signs, already shown in Chapter 16.

There were very few cars driving around in sleepy Stawell that holiday Monday. Maybe for this reason a vehicle stood out as it turned from Main Street into Victoria Lane. The registration plate was ...  611. The date was June 11th.

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Anyone for Poker?

 In Chapter 8 I wrote about a Tuesday/Thursday mix-up. More confusion shortly afterward - not far from home.

D E R are missing. DER is German for (masculine) THE. The feminine word for THE in German is DIE ! (Please note I scanned above picture in this way on purpose).

In the background: A  minor car crash close the corner of Goodall Rd & Bridge Road, Para Hills.

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The day before writing, the date was Sunday 13/10/07 my wife, her mother and I attended an Open Garden in Coromandel Valley, south of Adelaide. It was a fundraising event, organised by the Churches of Christ, in aid of Zimbabwe. Australia's Foreign Minister, Mr. Downer was giving a brief speech, just as we arrived.

Driving to Coromandel Valley we drove via Blackwood. As we drove past the historical (for me anyway) picture framing place, formerly called 'I've Been Framed', I could not see the sign. The name must have changed. (Story Book 2, Chapter 34).

For a change I decided to drive back home via Tapley's Hill Road. At the junction with South Rd. was a minor car crash. The registration plates teased me. The police vehicle was rego ...351. A parked vehicle, obviously part of the crash, had rego ..105. A damaged small, white Mazda 121 carried plate no. ... 919.

I took all this in while the traffic lights were on red. It's silly as I took in the registration plates, I noticed a large, blue noticeboard. I have forgotten what club it advertised, except for one detail: ....Established 1953. If the number 9 was meant to be highlighted - this sign the trick. My wife and mother-in-law, of course, had no idea, what my eyes captured, and what my mind digested during those 75 seconds or so.

My guess as to what it's all about - maybe another 1 is 4 IT? 919 + 121 = 1040. (The School of Mathematics is located not far from the corner, where the crash took place).

  - - - - - - -

 

One evening a few day after returning from Melbourne I was casually surfing a particular church in Adelaide's North. I can't recall why, only that I suddenly came across a contact name, regarding an affiliate organisation in Czechoslovakia. My strangely wired brain saw a code in the name of the village and the postcode: Mesto - 73601.

The word Mesto only took A & R to create Maestro. The postcode contained the digits for that day's date - 13/6/07. Not one digit was left over.

Earlier that same day I had taken our Suzuki to our mechanic to renew the spark plug leads. A close friend, an ex-driving instructor, offered to drive me back to pick up my vehicle. He wanted me to drive his car. Without thinking I read the digits on his odometer. They all were either 1, 3 or 6, again the digits for that day's date.

Max Lucado, the Christian author, loves those numbers. He wrote a book, simple titled 316. He calls them the numbers of hope.

Numbers on their own, of course, can't give hope, unless, according to my wife, they have a Dollar sign in front of them. But numbers can give encouragement or consolation, because what is behind them. Number are meaningful to people, depending on what they represent to a person. As readers know, a meaningful number to me is 153. It's because my surname is Fischer and in the bible is a story, where a bunch of fishermen caught 153 fish. This may sound childish, but if it doesn't bite you, so be it.

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Two such occasions, numbers taking on meaning, came in October 07. They both led to the same place - the Supreme Court in Adelaide's Victoria Square. On 3/10 I opened an email from a UK contact, the same lady I met in London, during my brief stopover in April. She informed me that a court case was to start that day in Adelaide's Supreme Court. She had been following the case, after a male carer had been charged with sex offences.

The parallels to the Liddy case were uncanny. From what I gathered so far, at least one of the main accusers is a convicted criminal, who came from Queensland. The charges go back to the early/mid 1990's, and were allegedly committed by a caring man, now around 50 years old, who had no previous convictions.

Since the case is taking place as I write, I cannot comment on certain details. What I can describe is the way numbers played a role. The way they matched encouraged me, removing some doubt, if I should indeed once again get involved in yet another man's fight for truth and justice.

The court case started on 3/10. The location was the Samuel Way Building, Court 3, starting time 10 AM. I only arrived during the afternoon session, as defence Lawyer Lindy Powell was making submission. She spoke with a strong voice and sounded very convincing in her arguments. On the far side, against the wall, I noticed two rows of people, the jury, three men (only) and 11 women. I had always assumed a jury consisted of only 12 jurors.

(I queried this with the Sheriff. He emailed to explain that in a prolonged trial additional jurors are appointed, because often some drop out. If at the time of deliberation there are more than 12 present, a ballot is taken to reduce the jury to this number).

After 20 minutes or so, the judge ordered for the court to meet at the location of the alleged abuse. The address given was in an Adelaide suburb, about 20 minutes drive away, in ...View Rd ... View Road? ... DR view? ... I had to go!

On leaving the courtroom a bald headed gentleman was sitting outside the courtroom. I had seen him as I arrived and recognized his face. The gentleman, wearing a smart suit and tie, was Mr. W C, the head of the CAIU, Child Abuse Investigation Unit. In my mind, his Department was responsible for putting Mr. Liddy behind bars.

In a police journal article, where I had seen WC's face, his unit was taking pride in having nailed my friend, Peter Liddy. The officer, who had arrested Peter, claimed that the words spoken to Peter Liddy: "You are under arrest" were the highlight of his career. He received an award for his outstanding work in the case. (Outstanding it was, I agree to that!)

Had I let go of my emotion that morning of 3/10, I might have looked Mr. WC in the face and shouted: "You stinking, rotten rascal, how could you and your incompetent officers do this to an innocent man, believing the lies of criminals and allowing him to be put behind bars for 25 years?"

But by the grace of God, I am able to control my emotions. I didn't say anything nasty to the gentleman. However, I could not go and let this opportunity go by without doing something. So I sat briefly beside Mr. WC and quietly spoke in his face: "Did you ever consider repenting of your sins? In Romans 6 ,23 it says - the wages of sin is death ..."

He didn't quite know what to say. I got that 'what on earth am I doing this for' feeling and didn't wait for the detective to give an answer. Anyway, I was on my way to view ...

A Channel Seven TV vehicle had already parked in the narrow, short street. A man standing on top filmed the scene. I think the cameraman filmed me too, for whatever reason, without my permission. So I got my camera out and took a picture of him from behind.

A mini-bus, registration plate ... 019 was just arriving, closely followed by another with government registration plate ... 099. The bus carried the jury. The government car, unless I am mistaken, was driven by Mr. WC. (The photo I took is still in my ancient camera).

I didn't hang around for long. As I drove away another important looking vehicle just arrived. It must have been the judge and his assistants.

On my way back home I stopped to take a look at the new Mitcham Shopping Centre. The old shopping centre had been destroyed in a huge fire on 22/8/04. The new centre is twice as large. It expanded to 55 stores and now includes Wallis Cinemas. The 60 million Dollar shopping complex was completed in February 07, the cinemas in May.

As I exited the carpark I suddenly found myself following a VW Combi Van. IT clicked as soon as I saw the registration plate - VEW ...  It only took an i to turn VEW into View - the place I had just come from to view ... The inclusion of the i not only fitted into the letters VEW, but also matched the three digit number that went with it. Allow me to not disclose this number).

Four days later, by sheer fluke (unless....?) during a leisurely bike ride to the beach, I saw the same VW Combi. It was parked in the main street in Semaphore (4 Sam or 4 am it?)

For this reason I took special notice of an item on the TV News that same evening, Sunday 7/10. A car show was held, featuring only VW Combi Vans. The newsreader read so fast, all I grasped was that it was in Germany and one of the Combis on display was made entirely out of wood.

Where is this leading to, the reader may ask? Well, I had on 2/10 uploaded the latest chapter (Book 6, Chapter 19) on this website. I had used the word COMET on the Index page, plus I had shown a photograph of a large billboard in North Adelaide - (Love the BITE). IT came to me not long after watching the News that Sunday evening.

COM BI  - COM ET = BITE.

- - - - - - -

 

Daily Bread reading - 15/10/07 - XX-rated watches - R-O-L-E-X-X

 

The verse on the left - Romans 6:23 - is the one I quoted earlier: "The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

 I only read the above in the evening of 15/10 - after I had an interesting experience with 10.10 (X X - Read on).

 

The plan for Monday 15/10 was to finish writing this chapter and upload it onto my website. I had considered, however, to again attend the court case in Court Room 3, the new case I had been following.

(The latest - the courtroom in this child abuse case is closed to the public most days, while the alleged victims give evidence. The law obviously allows a judge to do this. However, I ask, why should the public not be allowed to know everything that goes on in this or any court case? What is there, which needs to be kept hidden?)

As I checked that day's listings on the court's website, I could not find the case listed. Instead, as I scrolled down the page, I learned that Eugene Mc Gee and his brother Craig were to appear in court that Monday.

The ongoing case stems from Eugene McGee's alleged killing a cyclist on the Kapunda Road on Nov 30/03. His brother allegedly committed an offense in sheltering Eugene after the accident.  (In chapter 15, Book 4, I wrote extensively about the case and the resulting Royal Commission).

 

That Monday morning as I checked the court list, reading the name McGee online, I overheard the name Ray McGee on ABC Radio 891. It was at the very same second. This fact startled me for a moment. I recalled that this gentleman, Ray McGee, had been sitting in the room, as I gave my findings to the Kapunda Road Royal Commission, before Commissioner James on 15/6/05.

Now this same man, named Mc Gee was on the news, because he had decided to quit his job as a journalist, and to run as an independent candidate in the upcoming Federal election.

His slogan - I'm Ray McGee - vote for me! (As a matter of correction - at the time of my submission to the KRRC I had thought that his name was Craig, not Ray, my apologies).  

In my mind I needed to decide - should I stay home and write that day or attend this court hearing? After a few moments of prayerfully consideration I decided to go into Victoria Square and attend the McGee court-hearing. It was to start in Court 10 at 10 AM. (I found that XX rated). I did not fully understand what legal procedures were happening. Nothing was reported on the News, unless I missed it.

The final clue that fate was on my side came as I started the engine of my Suzuki to drive into Adelaide. The small, useless clock on the dashboard, which had not worked accurately for years, was still displaying digits. It showed 10.10 as jumped in the car and turned the key to drive to Court 10, starting at 10 AM. Maybe the cheap clock was not so useless after all?

- - - - - - -

On the day of writing, 17/10/2007 I cycled into Adelaide. It was ride to work day. Since I work from home, but still wanted to be part of the event, I cycled into the city first, then back to work.

On the way, however, a few exiting things happened. All morning I knew I'd be visiting two places on my way back. One, a place which refills printer cartridges, and two the headquarters of a church organisation. Only when I arrived at the address, did I realize the two places happened to be side by side. At the cartridge place only one other customer was waiting. I recognized his face, a brother from the church, who hosts the monthly Gaither night. We had a brief chat.

Next door I had to do some business at the church headquarters. Only when I arrived home did notice on the document I was given, that the church headquarters was at 171 ..... Rd. When I saw it I said: "O, it only takes an 0 to make today's date!

Another discovery while cycling back home and to work came in a backstreet. It was a large bus with a for sale sign in the window. It was fitted out for camping. When I saw Laura Street, then the bus, something inside my brain clicked. Beside it were a stack of pallets (5). This plus the registration number on the bus, ... 905, finally convinced me, I had come to the right place. I didn't buy the bus, only left a business card in the window.

Another find had me thinking. Cycling home to work via .....Street, the one where Mr. E. McGee lives, I saw a large notebook in the middle of the road. It looked as if it had been placed there. Perhaps there was something I needed to see? I don't stop very often these days to check out rubbish, even after seeing a car outside No. 42, which carried registration plate ...042, a coffee container with a big C and a small sachet of tomato sauce right near it. (It happened in Pooraka).

But a brief glance at the notebook wouldn't hurt. I turned and had a look. In the ten seconds it took I saw mainly blank pages. Inside the front cover, however, in large writing, as if done by a small child, were the two words ADAM to ...

If the message was Tom & ad, it made sense. Tom is the name of the accused in the latest sex abuse case above.

Is the message that he is another innocent victim to be crucified?

But then, Tom has a strong lawyer to defend him. Her name is Lindy - like Liddy, but not with a d.

Chapter 21

Index