52. Flattery and no fear
During the first few days after returning from Germany I repeatedly heard an ice cream van driving slowly past our house. It was the type that plays a tune to attract attention. For days the tune – “You are my sunshine” diverted my thoughts from my work. Eventually I took the interludes as a little flattery from whoever missed us; each tune another grain of sand for the beautiful shore God was creating to his glory. HE was the one shining, has been forever and forever will be.
As if by a universal law of action/reaction, with sunshine come the clouds. Apart from the storms, the tragic deaths of innocent people, there were clouds that threatened to kill and destroy me. One such cloud was the phone text message on my mobile I had received back in September 2002: (“Police have found a corpse, naked and badly burned with a very small penis. Please email me to check you’re OK.” (See chapter 20).
At the time I showed it to a few people. The general consensus was that it was just a joke and to forget it. Not that I was frightened, because I could trace the sender’s number to one of my ex-clients, a 17 year old boy, who had failed his driving test a year or so earlier. I should have reported the incidence to police at the time.
Not until January 3rd, 2003 did I have reason to ring the police with the information about the sickening message. A 15 year old girl’s body had been discovered at 5.15 pm in a driveway on the road between One Tree Hill and Kersbrook on the outskirts of Adelaide’s northern suburbs. She had been abducted and murdered sometime after having last been seen at around 3 pm on the same day. The reason I rang the police was not the numbers. It was the fact that the area, where the girl had disappeared from, was in the same suburb my student lived; the one that sent me the nasty message with the sexual overtones.
Even Isobel agreed that I ought to ring the police and report it. I would have failed to do my civic duty had I dismissed the whole matter. A further concern was a fire that was deliberately lit on Friday 1/11/02. It destroyed the hall upstairs in the German Club in Adelaide, causing one million dollars damage. I first heard of it while still in Germany, during a phone conversation with Isobel. At the time I had a hunch that something sinister was going on.
That same apprehensive feeling had surfaced within me about a year or two earlier. Two bullets had been fired into the reception area of the school where my sons had attended. A person, or more likely persons, drove along the road opposite and fired a weapon across the car park. The missiles went through the glass door and lodged in the front desk. The resulting indentations are still visible. Only by God’s grace no-one got injured or killed.
The culprits had then turned the corner and fired also at nearby shops. Was the school the real target and they made it look like a random shooting? There was nothing on TV and very little publicity in the media about the shooting. According to the school’s secretary, no-one had ever been charged over this very serious crime.
In January 2003 a fire also broke out in my doctor’s surgery in Para Hills. My suspicious mind tended to always imagine the worst in cases like this. I was assured that the fire was caused by an electrical fault. Within weeks another blaze, causing 200 000 dollars damage, destroyed the premises of an automotive business about 1 or 2 kilometers from the church we attend. Fire investigators determined that a large explosion first demolished part of the building. This time it was the name of the business caught my linking mind to kick in: Fisher … When does an incident change from a co-incident to a God-incident?
This crucial question still occupied my mind. On two occasions I discussed it on talk-back radio and emailed a doctor of theology once. To receive an answer to this question I may have to make up a little ‘too-hard basket’ and send it to someone.
Considering how I had publicly spoken up about the Liddy case, published his letters from jail on the internet and drew attention to various injustices, I was expecting threats against me. Yet, if I was supposed to be the mental patient with stupid thoughts, there would be no need for targeting me in any way? I saw each threat as confirmation that, perhaps I was right after all.
As previously mentioned, emails, (and occasionally phone calls, wrong numbers), arrived at my in-box that may have been threats. But God gave me peace of mind to be able to face whatever would come my way.
The release from jail in Queensland of a paedophile made big news in January 2003. Reading between the lines, my mind stirred. On Friday January 10th I emailed the Advertiser’s Colin James. (Rebecca had told me in an email, she would be absent for up to 8 weeks around Christmas 2002).
Yesterday a pedophile has been released from a jail in Brisbane. A spokesman for an organisation concerned (I forgot which one) stated that 98 % of these people reoffend. a frightening thought.
I don't know if you are aware of my doubts about the truth in our own pedophile case, namely Peter Liddy. If I remember correctly, his crimes were committed between 1983 and 1987, perhaps a little longer. He was charged in 1999. What happened in the meantime? Did he suddenly stop his activities?
If no, where are the victims between 1987 and 1999? Are there still others out there without having seen justice?
A lot of things in that case just don't add up. What saddens me is that he claims to be a Christian.
My website dieterfischer.com explains my thinking a bit more. (You can get in without giving a valid credit card number. I am in the process of making it a free website, like driving-school.com.au).
My main aim is for the truth to be revealed and to see justice done. Australia will be a better, safer place for all.
Dieter Rolf Fischer
PS. As Mr. Liebman tells us in the 15 Million Dollars "terrorist alert" campaign - if the numbers don't add up, speak out.
Following the increased threat from terrorism our Government embarked on a public awareness campaign, costing 15 million, an amount much criticized by many. Reading a name like Liebman (German for dear man or nice man) triggered the playful, linking part of my brain. I had taken many years to discover Goodall Road as a special address. One morning, despite having walked my dog for many years in the area, out of the blue I took note of the sign “Nelson Road” at the top of our short 350 meter road.
I looked up Nelson in the Encyclopaedia Britannica. Viscount Nelson (1758 – 1805) is described as one of England’s distinguished hero’s. He entered the Navy at age 12 and at age 20 became a post captain. Despite repeated illnesses and severe injuries he was renowned for his bravery in battle.
Letting my imagination run free, I noticed that the next street down is called Liberman Road, similar to dear man in German; the one right opposite our house is called Saint Clair Avenue. We once attended a house fellowship is St. Clair Ave. which very often had been misspelled St. Clare. I was not so sure about the saint bit, but if anyone did care for ”L” people, it was I. Since no-one else ever gave me any praise, I would often sit in the large bay window at the front of our house, pondering St. Clair Ave and listen to relaxing music.
Originally, I became aware of the surrounding street names after my internet provider kept asking me to refer all queries to a staff member called Todd. To play with Tod can be dangerous, it means death in German. The road below the saintly St. Clair Ave. branching out from Goodall Rd. is called Todd Road. If one wanted to play the game a little further, and read Tod backwards, it would read dot. Linking Tod with com could be a worry, since come in German is komm. Just as well Isobel does not play my linking, thinking game with me.
Lastly, the main road at the bottom end of gently sloping Goodall Road is called Bridge Road. For privacy reasons I will not divulge the story that Bridge Road holds, sufficient to say, that it linked with names involved in the car crash on 22.8.2002 and is the street were a man name Jason Plews, presumed murdered, was last seen.
I also received a booklet titled “Contract Bridge” from a prominent business man. In the foreword and text I deciphered much as I grasped the contents and hidden meanings. By now I was totally convinced I had a secret fan club with members far and wide.
The word bridge blessed me during a Christmas Concert I attended early December 02: “Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down”. Not exactly a Christmas type song, but it touched my heart profoundly as the children’s choir from a well known Grammar School in Adelaide sang it so beautifully. Did they sing that just for me?
Within days of uploading my letters from Peter Liddy on dieterfischer.com a male voice called me on my mobile phone and asked for George. Whoever was on the line must have recognized I did not sound like George and said: “Wrong number” and hung up. On the dial I recognized the phone number as the same one that previously had called, about 1 ½ years earlier, around the time of my friend George’s funeral. At that time the caller had also asked for George. I could not ignore such an incident.
Rebekah’s name started appearing again in the newspaper so I assumed she had returned to work. It would not take a James Bond to find out who was behind the mysterious caller from Queensland. If any link could be established between the phone call and Peter Liddy’s accuser, who allegedly lives in Queensland, it would be too obvious to be co-incident. I was not that brave to investigate myself and did not have resources. There are people who get paid big money to do this work, why should I?
I had no idea how or if my emails were at all followed up or any investigation was taking place. “No harm in telling Rebekah”, I thought. The date of the following email is 17/1/03:
Thank you for your email to let me know you'll be away. Believe me, it was more than that. It was confirmation that not everybody in the world brushes me aside as a lunatic. I trust you had a nice break whatever the occasion for your leave was.
I am not sure how many people read my personal story on dieterfischer.com. If the system was working as intended it would be about 2, the people I gave the code to, who had paid the fee to enter. (You can enter any name and give your birthday as credit card number and still receive the code). Lot of money wasted. In the near future I will make it available for free.
You know, what a co-incidence happened yesterday. I uploaded the chapter in my book where I mention the name Haman and the Old Testament Book of Esther. After lunch Isobel calls me to say, on Channel Nine is a film on called "Esther", the very story where a man named Haman plotted to kill the Jews. In the end he was hung on the very gallows he had built for his enemy Mordechai. I once was virtually thrown out of a flat by a man named Heimann (pronounced Haman). His son lives in OG Road, Klemzig. When I mentioned the co-incident to Isobel, she said: "I knew you would make a connection".
Just how long this game is going to go on depends on people like you. When God's time is fulfilled HE will make known the truth for all to see.
On Jan 15th at 9.01 am I received a call on my mobile. It was the exact same person who rang 18 months ago, the day after a friend from church was buried. His name was George. The caller then, as well as two days ago, asked for George. It was a Qld. phone line No. (07) 5563 …. My bet is (this could be one of my weird hunches, that deserves looking into) if Peter Liddy is right, both calls could be a veiled threat against me.
PL says in one of the letters to me, his main accuser lives in Queensland and once stated in a juvenile court that he has never been abused as a child. The evidence of this was never admitted in PL's trial. If the phone number could be checked and linked in any way to this case, it would be evidence of certain people starting to get hot under the collar.
I wrote to your colleague Colin James recently. I asked, if 98 % of paedophiles reoffend, why did PL just stop in 1987 until his arrest in 1999? I'm not a James Bond (by the way, the magazine of the German Club is called das Band) and I am not sure if I ought to trust our police.
In typical Mr. T fashion, he is hardly upright and already putting his finger on hot spots. I agree that Victoria Square is a major issue and ought to be thought through properly. (I remember 12 years ago, one of my student’s father earning a six figure salary as head of the Victoria Square redevelopment project. What happened to his plans and the money that was spent?) A huge roundabout around the square would really isolate the centre of the Victoria Square, which is already happening.
My road safety book is again with the state government. I think I am sending more of my books out to politicians and road safety authorities, than I am selling to paying customers.
LVJO is short for El Viejo and means old man. Isobel said she saw it somewhere. It is a certain weather pattern, just like El Nino (small child). The more I become certain about my calling and God's hand in all of this, the more Isobel tends to dismiss my comments and links. But I have long learned to keep them to a minimum. And if I do say something, it is almost like a joke. Rather comical at times. This was a reason, why I thought of charging people for my book; I thought if I receive a reasonable amount of money coming in, she would take notice. Everyone understands that language. But God has other ideas. I can wait.
God bless you and have a great day!
PS. The keyboard is mightier than the cannon ball.
The year 2002 finished as it had begun - with a number co-incident. The pastor at church had asked the congregation to prepare some thoughts of praise and thanksgiving for the last Sunday of 2002, Dec. 29th. I had not much experience in public speaking apart from what I had learned at the Speaker’s Club I was attending every fortnight.
On that Sunday morning I woke up early, as I usually do, with a wonderful vision of the word trust. I saw the first and last letter of the word as a cross. This leaves the remaining three letters as ‘rus. What a picture of the Christian walk. The cross is behind us, the cross lay before us; in between ‘rus. I included this thought in the little talk I had planned for that morning. I rather enjoyed standing up that morning and having the spotlight on me, as it were.
During my 3 minute talk I pointed out how I had come to the church as a depressed man. I had absolutely nothing to give. On the first Sunday I went forward for prayer and the pastor prayed for me. From then on my life started its restoration process. I thanked the pastor for praying for me and assured him his prayers were well and truly answered.
The co-incident that morning was that on that Sunday Isobel and I had been married 31 years, 5 months and 5 days exactly. The odd number 315 would emerge again later in a major revelation.
It takes a lot of sand to build a beach. God showed me that the sum of the many numbers, pictures, names, words or colours slowly created a beautiful picture of peace; not just for me but for many seekers of truth around the globe. HE Himself was behind this history-making story; of this I was certain.
“If God is for us who can be against us?"
Autobiography - Dieter Fischer
1. More in number 2. A sound mind 3. Now I'm found 4. Candle and the Wind
5. Realm of Nature 6. All in his Hand 7. The Wonder of it All 8. To Think God loves