wmparrott8@gmail.com
My name is William Parrott of Whitesburg Tennessee and this is a brief description of my life as a targeted individual for the past thirty-nine years. But before I get started I would like to say that my punctuation and capitalization is going to be a little off. I didn’t score very high in my English class, but my story is the truth. SO HELP ME GOD. in 1978 , I was seventeen years old and with my mother’s signature I joined the Tennessee Army National Guard in Morristown Tennessee. After completing my training at Ft. Benning Georgia, I returned home. Then one day I was driving around in the town that I lived in a few months later and ran across one of my old girlfriends. Her name is Inna Smith, we hit it off good together. She was glad to see me, and I was glad to see her again .We decided to engage in a steady relationship. Everything went well for a few months and then out of the blue, I started getting an overwhelming feeling that she was cheating on me. After a few more weeks I started hearing a voice in my head saying that she was cheating on me. I thought it was just my imagination running away with me. But the voice kept getting louder and completing whole sentences to the point that I was having an intelligent conversation with a voice in my head that was independent of my own thinking. The voice kept insisting that Inna was a prostitute and I should break off the relationship. So, I confronted her and told her that I was getting information that she was cheating. She denied having sexual relations with other men, but the voice kept insisting that she was lying. So, to get a little peace of mind, I broke up and stayed away from her. The voice stopped for about two weeks, so I thought it would be a good time to get out of town for a while, so I called my dad Joe Parrott and asked if I could go on a road trip with him, he was a truck driver. He said yes, so we headed up to New York City and a few places out on Long Island. About half way up through Virginia a man’s voice came on the citizens band radio saying that he was with the mafia and that Inna was a prostitute and she worked for them. He continued to say that his boss wanted me to get back together with her and get married and that she would continue with her prostitution. He also said I owed them a lot of money for the sex I had with her. He said that if I didn’t get back together with her they would kill me. My dad heard the man on the radio say all these things. I asked him what he thought about what the man was saying, and he said he was all for it. That was kind of like a slap in the face. I always wondered why he didn’t stick up for me. A good parent never lets anyone attack their children no matter how old they are. After all these years I think he was afraid ant too proud to admit it. I didn’t know much about citizens band radios back then, but that man’s voice was the only voice I heard except on the second day of the trip a different man keyed up and said, why don’t you leave the kid alone. The radio got quiet for about ten minutes after that. I never heard his voice again. Then the harrasment continued. Dad must have been on a separate channel with that man other than the regular truckers channel, channel nineteen. While dad was in one of the consignee’s office checking about getting unloaded I turned the channel on the citizens band radio and the threats stopped. We got unloaded at that stop and proceeded on to the next stop and it was quiet in the cab for a while then dad changed the channel back and the threats continued. He said that they were going to kill me and dismember my body and send my body parts in all directions west bound to the end of the country on several different trucks, so no one could find me. We finally got unloaded and headed back home to Tennessee, the threats kept coming all the way down to the log cabin restaurant at exit thirty on interstate eighty-one in Tennessee where dad stopped at for breakfast, I stayed in the truck because I wasn’t much on breakfast back then. When dad walked out of the restaurant he was with a man I hadn’t seen before, the man handed dad something and he put it in his pants pocket then the man walked away and dad returned to the truck and we proceeded on toward home. He pulled over at one of the little stores in Whitesburg and used the pay phone to call my step sister Teresa Castle to come out and take me home to mom’s house in Russellville. Dad handed Teresa a wad of money that I think the man at the restaurant had just given him and told her to deposit it in his bank account in Bulls Gap after she let me out. I didn’t hear any more voices in my head for about a week. I thought they had decided to leave me alone, but the harassment suddenly began again, in a worse fashion with the voice in the head. Some targeted individuals call it voice to skull or VTK. The attacks also came with insomnia, severe abdominal cramps, diarrhea, headaches and severe nervous attacks that resembled anxiety attacks and also muscle cramps. This time he told me he worked for gambler Billy Ray Lee of Morristown Tennessee and they were hit men for the CIA. I didn’t have any money to give them like they wanted for the sex I had with Inna because I didn’t have a job at that time, and I absolutely refused to get back together with her, so they harassed me brutally, mentally and physically with no end in sight. Then one day they said that they had had enough of me and they were on their way by my house to do a drive by shooting with machine guns. I took them at their word and went into the house and told my mom about the voice in my head and the demands that they were making and told her to be ready because they said they on their way to shoot up the house. She didn’t seem scared and said she didn’t believe they was coming, but she didn’t say she didn’t believe me about the voice in my head either. I went out to the garage and got my shot gun out and sawed the barrel off with a hacksaw to get a wider shot pattern, then lit a cigarette and pulled up a chair and waited. They never showed up. The harassment went on for a few more months 24/7 then one day I decided to drive by my last girlfriend’s house that I had broken up with to go steady with Inna. I passed her in her car on grassy valley road about a mile from her house where she lived with her sister and parents. We stopped in the road and started talking and decided to get back together. I thought my attackers would eventually leave me alone since I had a new girlfriend and was moving on with my life. But that didn’t happen, about three weeks into our relationship the voice informed me that they had paid my girlfriend Lesa Gayle Johns and her sixteen-year-old sister Teresa Johns a one hundred-thousand dollar cashier’s check each plus they paid their dad Billy Bruce Johns a one hundred-thousand-dollar cashier’s check to go along with it and drive them to a motel beside the orange bowl restaurant in Rogersville Tennessee to have sex with two black men. I thought he was jerking my chain because that was the big reason I had broken up with Lesa in the first place. She or her sister Teresa hadn’t never had sex with anyone, ever. I decided to go up to her house and ask. At first she denied it, then I started touching her vagina and she said she was sore and made me stop. Her sister Teresa was even more sore, she was hobbling around in the yard, flying June bugs that their grandfather had tied sewing thread to their legs. She was walking bow legged acting like she had fallen on a fence post. There was no doubt, she was sore and in a lot of pain. We argued about it for a little while then she went into the house crying, telling her dad that I knew what she did, he asked her, what did you think was going to happen? About that time the phone rang, and I didn’t hear any more of the conversation. Then she went into the bath room and dried her face and came back outside like nothing had happened and denied it ever since. Over the next several weeks the voice in my head said that Lesa had three more sexual encounters with other black men and two white men. My attackers really wanted to destroy my self-esteem and sanity and alienate me from my family and friends. I felt a hate from them that still to this day boggles my mind. They told me that they were going to crack my mind like a nut. After her first sexual encounter, Lesa didn’t need her dad for an escort any more. She seemed to feel more like a woman from then on instead of a girl. It was all about the money from then on. My attackers, the Roberts family told me the names of three of the men she had sex with. They are Danny Lane of Russellville Tn., Frankie Jolley of Morristown and Gene Jackson of Morristown. On the third and fourth encounter they said she had sex with two men, one after the other on each encounter. They said the men received a ten-thousand-dollar cashier’s check each for each sexual encounter with Lesa and Teresa. About a year later Frankie committed suicide and in 2016 Inna got bit by something poisonous while she was picking black berries and died. All the money that was paid to the Johns family was put into a bank account in their dad’s name and saved for several years, then suddenly the money was all spent at almost the same time. The Internal Revenue service should have records of this income, after all. they caught Billy Ray Lee spending it. Lesa paid for her new wedding with her new husband at the Chapel in Gatlinburg and built a new house, bought a new car, a new farm tractor and a new motor cycle for her husband. Teresa bought a new single wide trailer and had it put on the family farm behind her parents house and Bruce bought a new John Deere farm tractor, paved his drive way and bought a new car. About twenty years after those sexual encounters Jim Roberts told me that he had to use mind control on Lesa and threaten to kill her to get her to have sex with those men. A few months passed bye, then my attackers made me a deal that if I would get married to Lesa, after a year’s time they would leave me alone. At that time, I was beat down and thought it was a pretty good idea, so I asked Lesa to marry me, and she said yes. We had the wedding at her parent’s home and the pastor of our church, James Marshal performed the wedding ceremony. It was a small wedding with family from both sides and close friends. It was a happy time for me, I thought I was going to get my life back. Lesa’s dad helped me get a job at Metals Engineering in Greenville where he had worked for several years and eventually retired there. I was counting the days, but when it was time for them to get out of my head and give my life back, they said because I didn’t go back to Inna they weren’t never going to leave me alone. They also told me that if I ever had any children they would kill them while they were infants because they wouldn’t be old enough to tell anyone what was hurting them. I’m on my third wife and I still don’t have any biological children because of that. I got laid off from Metals Engineering two years later and was out of work for the next six months, then Lesa found an ad in the newspaper from a truck driving school in Arden North Carolina, so I took out a loan and with my father-in-law’s co signature I went to truck driving school in 1983. It took me a year to get a job driving a truck after I graduated but I have been driving trucks for over thirty-four years and have logged over four million safe miles all across the United States and Canada. I have over nine hundred seventy-three thousand accident free miles with Big G Express that I am currently driving for since 6-28-2006. The Roberts family introduced themselves to the men in my National Guard unit and told them that they were with the mafia and that they were teaching me a lesson and asked them to play along with them. Later, I found out that this tactic is called street theater. The men in my unit would walk by and say out of the way things like the mafia was going to get me and a lot of other in you windows, and gestures like spitting at me and much more that I can’t remember. This treatment went on for about six months, then on one drill weekend the Air National Guard in Kingsport Tennessee flew our mortar squad down to Ft. Stewart Georgia for a weekend of mortar training on a military air plane. One of my attackers named Gary Roberts of Corrington Tn. was sitting in the floor of the cock pit of the air craft using a NASA computer on me. There were two pilots in the cock pit and another officer standing at the cock pit door and another officer standing at the rear of the air craft opening and closing the big door periodically while we was in flight and on the ground. When we landed one of the sergeant’s in my mortar squad walked over to the cock pit door and looked in then walked over to one of the other sergeant’s and said Gary was in there. We finished our two- day training and the same officers flew us back to tri city’s airport in Kingsport Tennessee then we all went our separate ways. Then a few months later it was time to go back to Ft. Stewart for our two weeks of summer camp. I was looking forward to it. I was going to confront my company commander and tell him about my problem and ask for his advice. But when we got down there, my attackers told me that they had paid Captain Jerry Kuykendall, First Sergeant Frank Ball, staff Sergeant Bill Cruse, staff Sergeant Lowe and staff Sergeant Don Jones and all of the Lieutenants to supply them with Army uniforms and transportation while we were at Ft. Stewart. Sergeant Lowe chauffeured the two men that I hadn’t never seen before around the post in a command track vehicle. Over the time I was at Ft. Stewart I asked the two men what their names was, one man said his name was Gary and the other man said his name was Roy. Several years later I found out that Gary is the half brother of CIA contractor Jim Roberts and Roy’s last name is Roberts too. Jim Roberts lives in Knoxville Tennessee and I’m not sure where Roy lives. After twenty years of stalking and torturing me Gary quit working for his half brother Jim Roberts and started selling real estate in the Knoxville area. Later he told me that he made enough money working for Jim testing NASA computers on me to retire, he said he was still to young to retire and decided to go into real estate. While we stayed in the field the second week we was at summer camp Sergeant Lowe would park the command track about 50 to 75 yards away from me, in plain view. And two men at a time would walk up to the back of the command track and look inside where they were given a demonstration of what a NASA computer was and how it worked. this is the device that other victims are getting voice to skull torture from. A lot of victims think that a microwave weapon is torturing them, and some of it is, but the voice to skull torture is coming from a computer device with a microphone plugged into it. it looks like the old banana style microphone like the old reel to reel recorders. I’ve seen contractors get on commercial air planes with these devices. The people that check your luggage thinks it’s just a computer. My fellow Guards men would look at me and then back into the command track while Gary and or Roy would use the microphone to talk to my brain, they would ask me who was standing at the rear of the command track and I would think of their names and the observers would look at me and laugh, with that look like oh shit on their faces. The men were fascinated with that technology and couldn’t hardly stay away from the back of the command track so all the other men could get a demonstration. This went on for the duration of the second week while our unit was camping in the field away from the barracks. I felt so over whelmed and alone, it felt like I was naked and being raped. My friend Tim Williams that I had went to boot camp with on the buddy plan mysteriously didn’t show up for that year’s summer camp, but his oldest sister Sandra Williams did, she was shacking up with Sergeant Butch Grooms and she drove down to be with him. I asked her where Tim was , and she said he was home and wouldn’t tell me anymore. The next time I saw Tim I asked him why he didn’t come to summer camp, and his lame answer was, he didn’t have any clothes to wear. About 2012 or 2013 Tim Williams died from brain cancer at the age of 54. I think he was paid to stay home so he wouldn’t be a witness to the crime that was planned to be committed against me, because like me, he loved the National Guard and wouldn’t miss a summer camp unless he was in the hospital or dead. He stayed in for several years after I was booted out. One of the other men in my unit is Sergeant Rhyner, he was a police officer for the city of Morristown Tennessee, I was walking by him one day while he was taking a break and talking to one of the other men in our unit and he seemed upset, he said that he had worked hard to get on the police force and now all this was happening. I think he thought he was going to be called on to be a witness and possibly be implicated in the crime against me. I got so overwhelmed and angry that I started cussing Gary and Roy in my thoughts, and they retaliated in a brutal fashion by giving me a headache so bad it almost blinded me on several occasions. All I could do was to endure and pray that the week would be over soon so I could go home and not have my company listen to my most private thoughts. I had some ugly thoughts about some of my fellow Guardsmen too, and it seemed like they took offence to it. They would walk by me and give me looks like they could kill me, and on one occasion in the mess hall I was looking down at my dinner plate and was smiling at something that Gary had said to me in my head and one of the noncommissioned officers that I was dining with must have thought my attackers and me was talking about him, so he stood up and pushed the dining table away from all four or five of us that was sitting at the table then stood there in front of me staring down like he was waiting for me to say anything provocative so he would have an excuse to jerk me up from my chair and beat the hell out of me, but he calmed down and slid the table back in place then sat back down and we all finished our meals then went our own separate ways. But this incident happened on our first week at summer camp when the whole Roberts family was in range with their cars and could get inside my fellow Guardsmen’s heads without them knowing about it, and cause their imagination to run away with them too. Jim has four mind reading computers but Gary only took one in the field with us on the second week. The other three devices were used to watch and control the thinking of the other people that I encountered, just in case someone got the bright idea to detain Gary and Roy while they were exposed on the post. It was a brutal two weeks, I can’t even come close to describing it to do it justice. After Sergeant Peters got back home he told his wife that it was the worst summer camp that he had ever experienced. His wife Jane Rutledge worked with my mom at Morristown foam, that’s how I know how he felt about it.Then I finally got home and was happy to take a shit without my whole company watching from the inside of my head, The next day I wrote a letter to General Wallace at the National Guard headquarters in Nashville Tennessee and reported the assault by my fellow Guardsmen. At my next drill meeting in Morristown a month later I was called into the officer’s lounge for a interview with Lt. Col. John Morrell and a military Chaplin from Nashville. John showed me a letter and asked if I recognize it, I looked at it and said yes. He said that I had asked for help thirteen times and that was a sign of paranoia and schizophrenia. At that time in my life I was a little intimidated by the brass and didn’t say why I had asked thirteen times for help. The truth was that I wanted General Wallace to see how desperate I was and thought if I mentioned it enough times he would get the idea. I didn’t realize that it would be used against me. Then he checked my reflexes and hand strength, then called Captain Jerry Kuykendall into the room. The commander looked upset and uncomfortable as he entered the room, he sat down at the table across from us then John handed him my letter and asked what was this all about, the Captain glanced over it then handed it back and said he didn’t know. Then John looked at me and said he was discharging me on the spot, and he said when this meeting was over I was to leave the Armory and never return there ever again. He said he would send my discharge in the mail and he asked if I wanted him to call my wife and tell her what had just happened. I said no and asked if I could have a military hearing, he said yes but I would have to undergo a psychiatric evaluation at Ft. Campbell Kentucky. He asked if I wanted to do that. I asked if he could provide transportation down there, he said no that it was my responsibility to get there. so I said I would call him on Monday and let him know when I could get a ride down there. When I got home that day my wife said that Lt. Col. John Morrell had called and told her what he had done to me, I felt surprised after I had just asked him not to. I was devastated and embarrassed any way and was trying to find the words to explain to my wife and family that I just got tossed out of the National Guard like a piece of trash just for asking for help. The next Monday I called down to the National Guard headquarters in Nashville and asked to speak to Lt. Col. John Morrell and the lady that answered the phone said he wasn’t available to take my call, so I told her who I was and that I had transportation to Ft. Campbell and asked if she could set up an appointment to have my psychiatric evaluation done so we could move forward and get a military court date set up to fight my discharge. She said no, that John had told her that I absolutely refused a psychiatric evaluation and there was nothing she could do. The only other recourse I had was to start asking Government officials for help, so I wrote Congressman James H Quillen a letter describing my problem, he wrote me back, but the only thing his letter said was that he had received my letter, that was it. Then I waited a few weeks and decided to wright a letter to President Ronald Reagan and ask for his help, then a few weeks later a letter came from Congressman Quillen’s office saying that President Reagan’s office handed my letter down to them and that’s the last I ever heard about my request for help from President Reagan and Congressman Quillen. Next I wrote a letter to Governor Lamar Alexander describing my attack at Ft. Stewart and getting illegally kicked out of the National Guard , a few more weeks passed by then a letter came from him saying that he couldn’t participate in military affairs. A few more weeks passed by and I decided to call Congressman Quillen’s and try to talk to him personally but the lady that answered the phone said that he wasn’t available to take my call. So I told her about getting kicked out of the National Guard and she said that she had read my letter and didn’t see anything wrong with the way it was written and advised me to go to the Armory in Morristown and demand my right to a military hearing, so I did that, I walked into the Armory and confronted First Sergeant Frank Ball in the lobby and advised him that I had been in contact with Congressman James H Quillen’s office and was advised to demand my right to a military hearing. He looked at me with disgust, rolled his eyes and never said a word, then just walked away. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t just run him down and choke him until he agreed to my demand, so I got back in my car and went back home. In the meanwhile the electronic attacks kept coming. A few more months passed by then I decided to go to Attorney General Haskell Winstead’s home and tell him my story, he lives about three miles from me. He knew gambler Billy Ray Lee because earlier in Haskell’s career he tried to have Billy incarcerated for illegal gambling, drug pushing and racketeering, and rumor has it that Billy hired a hit man to kill him. A man was caught outside Haskell’s home with a gun and was charged with attempted murder and sent to prison. The would-be assassin never testified against Billy. Haskell asked if I had any proof, and I said no. I never thought to mention the millions of dollars my attackers claimed to have spent on my wife and getting me discharged from the National Guard by attacking me while I was on a Military post and on active duty. The last I heard there is no statute of limitations for military personal on active duty. Haskell told me that Billy was under Federal investigation for tax evasion. He said that Billy was spending millions more than he had in the bank. So that pretty much confirmed what Gary Roberts was saying about paying Lesa and my brothers in the National Guard. Judge Neese presided over the trial at the Federal Court house in Greenville Tennessee. The first trial ended in a mistrial because of jury tampering and the second trial Billy had plea-bargained with the FBI and agreed to wear a wire to help incriminate the owner of Morristown Driving Service trucking company on racketeering. I think his name is TJ MAYS. Billy was convicted of racketeering and sentenced to two years at a minimum-security prison in Huntsville. Several years later I called Richard at the Federal court house in Greenville and asked to see the court documents of the trial and he said that the documents were moved to a ware house south of Atlanta Georgia, but he gave me the document numbers and the address and phone number to the facility where they were being stored. I took a vacation and my wife Lisa and I drove down there and examined the files. It said that Billy Ray Lee had to serve two years at a minimum-security prison at Huntsville and it also said that they couldn’t prosecute him for tax evasion because the money he was spending wasn’t his. Most of the files pertaining to the financial part was missing, and when I asked where they were, the man said that this was all the files he had. So that means that CIA contractor Jimmy Ray Roberts was laundering CIA through his friend Billy Ray Lee to finance the testing of the NASA computers. A few years after Billy got out of prison he committed suicide. When I moved to Hedgesville West Virginia while I was married to my second wife Pamela Linton my attackers would test the equipment on her too. She would get severe headaches and one time they attacked her nervous system and she thought she was having a heart attack. I had to rush her to the emergency room at Winchester Virginia. The ER doctor did blood work then told her that she was having a severe anxiety attack then wrote her a prescription and sent her home. Luckily that was the only time they sent her to the hospital while I was married to he. But shortly after that we divorced, I gave her the house and went back to Tennessee. A brief time after I moved back to Tennessee the Roberts family attacked my mother with a severe anxiety attack and I had to rush her to the emergency room in Morristown Tennessee, she thought she was having a heart attack too, but again the ER doctor did blood work and told her she was having a severe anxiety attack but due to her age, they kept her overnight for observation. Over the years several of my friends have been attacked in this fashion too and their was nothing I could do to help them because they wouldn’t believe me if I told them that their attack was coming from a car load of people stalking me and everyone I know. All I could do is watch in horror. I have been attacked several times myself over the years but I didn’t go to the hospital for it, I just suffered through the attacks until they stopped. It’s really hard to hold down a steady job going through this kind of treatment, a lot of times they would attack me while I was in the sleeper birth hundreds of miles away from home in the early hours of the morning just before I had to get up and try to make an on time delivery. On two separate occasions while they were giving me a severe headache I heard a loud pop in my brain then the next day a large amount of blood gushed out of my nose, I think they busted blood vessels in my brain and it took about eighteen hours for the blood to travel from my brain to my sinuses. Years later Jim told me the reason he attacked me repeatedly in this brutal fashion for almost four decades was because he used me to train eight CIA contractors. Then it all made sense why all the other victims that I read about on the internet are being tortured for several years too. I think this is totally unnecessary and inhumane treatment for a Government agency to experiment on the public for these extended periods of time and their funding should be cut. The positive thing that I have gained out of all this hellish torture I’ve had to endure most of my life is, I can recognize a mind control attack on other people when I see it. I can’t even describe all the different ways they can attack someone but I recognize it when I see it. My attackers always convinced me that nobody would believe me, and I would be committed to a mental hospital if I kept asking for help. After I was kicked out of the National Guard with no recourse I was more inclined to believe them. The longer they can convince their victims not to report these kind of attacks the less attention it draws to the program. If everyone would put their stories on the internet, no matter how bazar it sounds then every time a mind control victim finally gives up and commits a mass shooting, and I don’t in any way support this tactic to get the FBI involved or to be used as a means to an end of the harassment and torture like the Hollywood Florida airport shooter Esteban Santiago and the Washington Nave ship yard shooter did, the media and local authorities could google targeted individuals and see the electronic mind control attacks being committed against other targeted individuals and compare their stories. Some victims give up when they call on the FBI and get sent in for a psychiatric evaluation or flat out turned away, then some of them wright a brief part of their story down on paper or etch a hint into the stock of their shot gun thinking that they don’t have anything to lose and if they commit a horrible crime bad enough the public would have a big out cry to force the FBI to investigate each of their stories, but it don’t happen. If some of the targeted individuals are going to go to extremes and commit a mass shooting, I think they should lay down on the ground and try to survive like Esteban Santiago did just so the family of the victims would at least know why their loved ones got killed, like the lady that lost her husband in the Washington Navy ship yard shooting. She couldn’t understand what her husband did wrong to deserve getting killed over, she said all he did was get out of bed and go to work. But unfortunately most of the mind control victims are programed to self terminate by cop or suicide. The attackers make their victims feel embarrassed and ashamed of what is happening to them and most of them end up keeping their story private and some of them even commit suicide. Then in the meanwhile mass shootings like Virginia Teck, The Aurora Colorado theater shooting and The Jared Lee Laughner Arizona mass shooting. I wrote a letter to Jared Lee Laughner two weeks ago and asked him to describe what was going on inside his head that caused him to go crazy but the people in charge of him wouldn’t let him have my letter, they marked it refused and wrote return to sender on it. I thought their was something strange about those people in charge of him, they wouldn’t even give me his mailing address and seemed overly concerned why I was trying to contact him. Now back to the main topic, I wrote down some of the names of people involved from the court documents at the facility in Georgia, Billy Ray Lee’s two grown children William Albert Lee, his daughter Constance Lee, Jim and Wanda Roberts, Roy and Carolyn Roberts and Billy’s wife Etta Lee. It said that Sam Cecil Roberts was a financial backer. When I saw these names it dawned on me that one of my attackers told me that his name is Curtis Roberts, I thought he was lying so I used USA people search and found him, he is my age and owns several property’s in Morristown Tennessee. Later his half brother James Roberts told me a little about the family and his son James Junior and Curtis’s son working on the project with the family. They said they get paid two hundred fifty thousand dollars per year each plus expenses such as hotels, food, gas and transportation. One of them said that Gary and Curtis had a falling out over Curtis telling me what his name was and exposing the family. But they eventually worked it out and Curtis came back to work. I’m pretty sure Gary’s son and grand son are part of the program too. They told me that they sleep in hotels most nights depending on what’s available with in a mile of where I park for the night. I didn’t know who else to turn to for help and several years passed by, meanwhile I was still being stalked and tortured with all kinds of muscle pain and headaches, some so bad it made my nose bleed. But not as bad as those two times they busted blood vessels in my brain. And a big torture treatment they pull on me is insomnia, bowel regulation such as parcel bowel movements along with full constipation and diarrhea, death threats and name calling. they make you feel hated and when I ask why the always say it’s what their employer wants. It was a nonstop voice in my head all the time I was awake and scary dreams when I sleep. Most of the time it was two and three different voices in my head at the same time carrying on a conversation with each other and sometimes they would argue with each other. If I had a thought that one or all of them didn’t like they would hurt me and yell in my head so loud it almost paralyzed me. All I could do was close my eyes and hold my hands over my face and wait for it to stop. Finally, after several years I convinced them that I don’t have the same option they do because I can’t think about what I’m going to think about before I think it, because thoughts are random. But they have the option to think about what they are going to say to me before they push the button on the microphone of their NASA computers and say it. Several more years passed bye then the attacks happened on September the 11th, 2001 and I was shocked that the CIA was wasting tax payer money to ruin my life with extreme low frequency-ELF- low beam microwave technology for what seemed to be amusement. The FBI and the elite military unit Able Danger reported the training of the would-be hijackers in Florida and they didn’t even send anyone down there with NASA computers like what was being on me to check it out and stop the attack. Or if they did, and I think they did. I think they just sat by and watched the attacks happen from the start to the end for several reasons, like more funding for the military industrial complex and to pass the Patriot act to spy on the American citizens. A Government that will experiment on it’s own citizens are capable of anything. So I wrote the secretary of defense Donald Rumsfeld at the Pentagon a letter and told him my story and asked why they didn’t use the ELF mind control technology like they was using on me to stop the attacks. A few days later I saw him on national television laughing, saying that they couldn’t read peoples minds to prevent an attack like that. He never wrote me back. Then many more years passed by and I decided to write a letter to the FBI headquarters in Washington and send it certified mail sometime around 2008 or 2009, I told them a brief piece of my story because I’m better at explaining things in person rather than writing it down on paper, but they never answered my letter either. About a year later I was on a dedicated run with the trucking company that I’m with now from my home terminal in Russellville Tennessee up to a warehouse in Havre De Grace Maryland then down to the Sun soap factory in Baltimore then back down to our terminal in Russellville. I was turning two and sometimes when I got lucky three turns a week. There is a restaurant that me and the other drivers on this account would stop at in Havre De Grace for our meals. We all got to know the waitresses and the lady that owned and ran the place, then suddenly the place closed down, but there was always people inside the restaurant. Then one day the open sign came on, so I stopped in on my way back down to Baltimore to have breakfast and say hi to the gang. When I went inside there was a different waitress, but the lady that owned the place and a young man was in the kitchen cooking. I asked where the other waitress was and the new waitress said that she was on vacation. I mentioned that she had just came back from vacation about three weeks ago, then she said that she didn’t know nothing about nothing. Then I placed my breakfast order and was looking around at the two men sitting at the counter, the one on the right was wearing a gun and when he turned sideways I could see he was wearing a bullet proof vest and FBI letters was on the back, the man on the left was an older man in his upper fifties to mid sixty’s. They was talking to each other and taking turns staring at me. I was close enough to hear the whole conversation, some of it was about a truck and some of it was about a motorcycle. The lady that owned the place was coaching the new waitress, I could tell she hadn’t never worked in a restaurant before, but she was faking it good. The atmosphere felt weird and I also noticed that the regular customers that was always in there every single time that I walked in that place wasn’t there this time. I was the only customer in the restaurant. When I was almost finished with my breakfast the waitress walked over to the television and turned it off and then turned to the two men and me with a strange look on her face like lets do this. The first thought that came to my mind was they are about to arrest me. The older man stood up and walked out the door without paying for his coffee, I don’t think either men ate anything. Then the younger FBI agent stood up and started walking to the door, as he passed by me I looked up at him and said, have a good one. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned left toward me with a look of rage on his face, I thought he was going to grab my head and slam it down in my plate. I dropped my head and shrugged my shoulders and waited for the attack, but it didn’t happen. I looked up and he was gone. I stood up and put a tip on the table then walked over to the cash register to pay my bill, the waitress looked a little nervous after her two friends left her in the restaurant alone with me but I didn’t say anything out of the way to her, I just walked out to my truck and continued on down to Baltimore then on down to Russellville. On my next trip up, the restaurant was closed down again and it was still closed down when I passed by there two years later. I felt like the FBI was stalking me from that point on. I’m not sure why they didn’t arrest me in the restaurant that day, maybe they had planed to, but changed their minds at the last second. I truly believe that they had already contacted my employer and advised them that I was hearing voices, and I also think they put undercover agents in the office at my work place to help dispatch my loads so they could regulate my income to try to encourage me to quit my job. The reason I feel this way is because after I wrote my letter to the FBI headquarters in Washington D.C. asking for help, the load planners kept me on the road most of that next year. I only made it home for about fifteen days plus two weeks vacation. That was highly unusual, before that I was home every weekend. That put a huge strain on my marriage. A little while later I started having chest pains and had to go into the hospital to have a stent installed, the heart doctor couldn’t get it in on the first try so I had to stay in the critical care unit for four days and wait for him to try again, this time he went in through my wrist and was successful. While I was in the critical care unit the FBI told the staff at the hospital about my situation and instructed them to give me psychotropic medication. I told the nurse that I didn’t need that kind of medication and asked her who told her to give it to me and she said the heart doctor told her to give it to me. I must have surprised them because I went through all that and didn’t even have a harsh word to say to any one there and I only felt appreciation and thanks for their whole team that helped patch me up and get me back on the road. I think the FBI caused me a lot more problems in my personal life by telling every one that I had any business with, my personal business instead of investigating the evidence in my story. My wife Lisa witnessed the nurse trying to give me psychotropic medication and thought that was the oddest thing that she had ever seen because I hadn’t never been hostile to any one before in the whole twenty years that we have been living together. The next thing people with Colorado license plates bought the field across the road from my place and put in a double wide trailer. They only stayed a few years then sold the place and moved. I always thought they worked for the FBI but I’m not positive. Then on one of my weeks out on the road I was up in Pennsylvania and my driver manager called me on the phone and wanted me to pick a driver up at our drop yard in Mechanicsburg Pennsylvania and run team with him for the rest of the week, they said that his truck had broken down. I advised them that I have sleep apnea and couldn’t run team, so they made me run with him down to Hopewell Virginia to pick up a load of paper going to Jacksonville Florida then down to our yard in Russellville Tennessee where I dropped him off and continued on down to Jacksonville. I can’t remember his first name but his last name is Murphy and he said he lives in Smyrna Tennessee. We were talking on the way down the road and he was saying things like I could live off of seven hundred dollars a week, he also gave me the impression that he knew a lot about me, like exactly how much money I made and how much money I needed to stay out of bankruptcy. And I eventually did go into bankruptcy. I also felt like he was psychoanalyzing me and checking my driving skills, but they don’t have to put any one in the truck with me any more to see if I can drive because they put me in a truck that is equipped with a dash cam this year. all they have to do is sit in the office and watch me drive every mile. And on another day while I was in the shop at our Gladeville Tennessee terminal getting fuel, I was looking up at the new security cameras mounted all over the shop area when all of a sudden a well-dressed man came down the stairs from the load planners office and walked straight up to me and introduced himself as Chris Stevens, I hadn’t never seen him before and I thought I had already met every one in our company. He seemed uncomfortable, like he was upset with me but he didn’t say anything to suggest that. It was just a feeling I got from him, like he really didn’t like me. I think he was watching me on the cameras and decided to come down and make his presence known. Then about six months after that I was taking my ten-hour break at one of the truck stops in Franklin Kentucky, about fifty miles or so from our Gladeville terminal when suddenly, a voice in my head said he was Chris Stevens and that he was an FBI agent and then he asked about my improvised explosives manuals that I had purchased about thirty years ago to remove several stumps from my property. I told him that I ordered them from the sales pages in the back of a soldier a fortune magazine, but I also told him that I didn’t build any pipe bombs to detonate under any of the stumps that I wanted removed because my dad was afraid the blasts would sink his well. So I hired a bull dozer to remove them at a much higher cost instead. He said that he wanted my books and I told him that if he would come to me in person and ask, I would make copies of them for him. He didn’t seem interested in doing that, he also wanted me to quit my job so he and the other FBI agents working in the shop could go back to Nashville and work on other cases. He also said that his superiors in Washington wouldn’t let any of them have any face to face contact with me in regards to them investigating me. He also said that he was with another FBI agent from the Louisville Kentucky office and they had the mind reading computers up their to aid in their investigations and he was sent to the FBI office in Nashville to help Chris look inside of my head to see what he is dealing with. But this could be more head games from the Roberts family to harass me and rattle my cage. But it did sound like Chris Stevens and it was the voice of a person that I hadn’t had in my head before. Here is another little story about the FBI stalking me, in 2016 I was visiting my dad at his garage just over the hill from my place and one of my friends that I have known since I was sixteen years old was there, his name is Gary Pease. I sat down at the table across from him, dad and my stepbrother Steve Castle and my other friend Jacob Sills was sitting at the table with us when all of a sudden Gary looked across the table and snickered at me, then he asked if I wanted to borrow a gun to shoot myself with. I knew why he was asking that but I didn’t say anything about it back to him, I just hung around a little while and went back home. The next weekend the same thing happened when I sat down at the table, Gary snickered at me again and asked if I wanted to borrow a gun to shoot myself. I hung around a little while longer then told every body that I was going home and started walking out to my pick up truck when I heard Gary tell every one that he was glad that I left and he called me a son of a bitch and that his son Deputy Eric Pease had told him that the FBI walked into the police station in Rogersville and told them that I was under FBI investigation and that I owned several guns and that I was hearing voices and I was dangerous, so now Gary thinks that I’m a nut job and he thinks shooting myself is better than having the FBI stalk me like a criminal. He said his wife Donna even unfriended me on face book. After I got home I looked and sure enough she really did unfriend me. A couple of months passed by, then one night while I was on my break back up there at the same truck stop in Franklin Kentucky a lady’s voice in my head introduced herself and a man, she claimed to be a Navy Officer and held the rank of Major and her male friend said that he held the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, he said that he was a psychologist and she said she was a psychiatrist. They advised me that they was working from an office at the Pentagon and that I am under contract to them from the CIA. They said that they was operating from a satellite system. They also said that they are using me for experimentation and training purposes. Then she said they are going to try to split my personality and destroy my mind, a few months passed by and I got to know them a little better. The Roberts family are still there but they were instructed to let the Navy officers try to damage me from then on so I wouldn’t be a threat to them anymore. It seems the Navy has been using satellite mind control systems for several years and had been reading the Roberts family’s minds for several decades to learn how to brutalize and murder people, the stuff that you cant learn from a recording of a mind control attack on a victim. The Roberts family has been using NASA computers on the American public since 1974 and are experts on torture, manipulation and murder. One day out of the blue the Lieutenant Colonel said that he had hand picked the Major and two Captains to work with him on the satellite mind control program, he said that he took them down stairs to his office one at a time as they were assigned to the program then locked the door and ordered them to strip down naked and have sex with him, he said he only made them do it once like an initiation. The ladies didn’t deny it, they said that he wouldn’t let them out of the room until they had sex with him. The Major and one of the Captains didn’t like him rubbing their noses in it in public very much but the other Captain was having a pretty hard time over being reminded of it and about two weeks later she transferred back to her home town in Pensacola Florida. As more time passed I got to know a little about another man on the program, one night we was chatting back and fourth and I asked him what his name was and he said his name was chief Gordon, I thought he was just bull shitting me, but a couple days later I googled chief Gordon and to my surprise Master Chief Gordon Farrell came back, it said that he is a retired electronic technician expert and his father is Admiral Farrell. He said that he is a contractor for Naval intelligence. I looked at his face book page and clicked like on it then shared one of his post on my page, he had several friends but the next night when I stopped for my break he had deleted all of his friends except me and two other people. So it looks like I have another name of the people inside of my head, it would be nice if the FBI would stalk those people that I have mentioned in this blog instead of stalking me. Jim tried to get the Navy people to make an out of court settlement with me so we could all go our separate ways but the Navy people told him that they don’t pay their victims and they would kill him if he made a settlement with me. Jim told the Navy people that if he got investigated by the FBI that he would testify against the CIA if he and his family and other team members got full immunity. I’m going to end my story here for now, but as I remember more I will add it to this blog. If anyone wants to contact me my e-mail address is wmparrott8@gmail.com Take care and God Bless. William E Parrott
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