Framed for Murder by Officers of the Law
The P. F. Lazor Story
by P. F. Lazor (Ione, California)
Introduction
The courts and prison systems across the USA are jointly being misused to
kidnap innocent American citizens. I have been imprisoned under that status
for 21 years, and continuing. But where much of a person's earlier youth was
carefully invested in future aspirations, as was mine, those years have also
been stolen. I have never been involved with crime at any level nor with the
criminal element, in my life.
Personal Background
More than 200 sworn declarations from society's most outstanding people
who've known me personally throughout my life have been submitted to the
courts attesting to my lifelong character, particularly of non-violence,
excellent social adjustment, working to better my community, and investing
my life to achieve highly and to contribute in beneficial ways to mankind.
(Can be made available on request).[1]
Case Synopsis
In a nutshell: I was minding my business one afternoon in my home, which I
was in the process of moving out of.
Suddenly, a crazed, maniacal man who had been stalking me with escalating
violence for ten weeks, got through my locked front door in total silence
and, while yelling threats to kill, violently bashed on my locked bedroom
door with his feet and body slams, some 15-20 times. The door finally
crashed open. He swung a meat cleaver at my head to chop it in half, and at
some point in the commotion displayed a hand gun. (It turned out to be a
high-powered BB-pellet pistol, but to everyone looked like a real
semiautomatic firearm).
Fortunately, I had a legal, loaded handgun and fired it to save my life.
Though in a dire panic, losing conscious perception and judgment; I stopped
firing when he went down, wounded. My gun still had unfired bullets; he
stood back upon his feet wounded, but unarmed. I immediately called the
police and ambulance to save him. He lived three or four hours (depending on
which falsified police report you read), and died at the hands of state
officers' misconduct or neglect. Police admit he stood on his feet in their
presence, hard to restrain. I was charged with premeditated first degree
murder, of which I was acquitted; but the same jury convicted me of second
degree murder, with a parole date of 1992 – had I been guilty. Yet I'm still
in prison for this today (2004). The crimes in this case were committed by
the attacker and the police/prosecution agents to deliberately frame me for
murder, rather than by myself.
The fact that I had slight contact with the attacker previously, and all
other surrounding events, simply have no relevance to innocence or guilt, as
my action was caused solely by the imminently-fatal, violent attack. Even
so, the following information will encapsulate the precipitating events.
Case Background and Surrounding Events
Thanksgiving Day, 1981: I began subletting a house as my residence in
Los Gatos, California. The house was slated to be demolished eventually, and
high-rise condominiums built on the plot of land. Paul Garnier, representing
the new partnership owners of the property, was so happy with my renovation
of the premises that we arrived at an agreement whereas I'd maintain the
property in exchange for my residency, and I was free to sub let extra rooms
to offset my renovation costs.
By July1982, I'd purchased the house structure outright with the option to
move it to another lot within 30 days after financing would come through for
the planned demolition (which never came through). Also, I was now required
to pay a rental fee for the land on which my house sat, as long as I and the
house remained there. As a licensed realtor, I'd done similar transactions
in the past, with no problems, and I faithfully paid the rent at all times,
as agreed.
September, 1982: Garnier introduced me to his nephew, John Allred, a
homeless man from far out of town, newly arrived in Los Gatos. To help a
fellow man in need, I gave into their pleas to let Allred rent a room for
three weeks. He moved out thereafter, as agreed, but left a roomful of
furniture, for which they were supposed to pay me storage rent. It was
a scam to bilk me, but I wouldn't know until after Allred's death. Because I
often worked away from home on the road in my businesses and doing sound
recordings and night music-stage performances, Allred and I never had more
than about fifteen minutes contact from the day we met, until he died. Most
of that time was his several acts of stalking and violence against me. The
jury was misled to believe that Allred lived in the house and I didn't when
the shooting occurred!
Allred manipulated two other unsavory tenants, friends of Garnier's family,
to carry on a secretive campaign of slanderous complaints behind my back to
induce Garnier to breach our tenancy contract. It was later determined that
Allred was ragefully jealous that he missed out on inheriting the house due
to my purchase of it. It blocked him from carrying out nefarious plans he
had for his hoped-for ownership of it until demolition time.
December 20, 1982: Allred's schemes succeeded: Garnier suddenly
demanded that I vacate the property immediately, notwithstanding that I
owned the house that sat on his land; and he admitted he never gave a 30-day
notice to quit tenancy as required by California law. Allred sealed this
breach of contract, in a public restaurant, by diving over a table, lunging
at my throat, until pulled off by Garnier.
Bending over backwards to keep peace and provide safety for my possessions,
I began moving my things from the house in increments over the next few
weeks while contacting civil attorneys and tenancy agencies for a civil
resolution and restraining order. But Allred cut that short – along with his
life:
Before 30 days elapsed from the illegal demand to vacate, I was at home
packing the last of my most valuable items in my car to store elsewhere. I'd
even decided to probably let the house go, as it wasn't worth the trouble,
in light of my other burgeoning life successes that I'd invested the last
thirteen years of my life to finally achieve: So that it wouldn't be sitting
in my car, close to the roadside, my handgun (legal and registered, and
loaded, as advised by the gun dealer), was among the last items I'd remove
from my room. Luckily, the bedroom door automatically locks as it closes
shut.
I'd be packed and gone within the next fifteen minutes, except, fate
tragically intervened.
While on my last phone call before leaving, speaking to a stranger at a
tenancy agency, suddenly the bashing of the door began, until Allred crashed
it open. I was panicked at a level of quasi-unconsciousness, and under
greatly impaired vision without my glasses on, as his weapon was swung at me
with the force of a major-league batter, a split second after the door burst
open. It smashed into a knee I'd recently injured so seriously that doctors
opined I may never have normal use of it again. This physical force and pain
surge probably also contributed to my near unconscious state of panic as I
fired the gun sporadically, I thought, maybe two rapid-fire shots, after a
wild shot went off into the air.
The same Los Gatos police officers who treated me with hostility over the
previous two months as I called them for their intervention against Allred's
stalking, threats and battery on me, were assigned to handle the shooting
“crime” and to witness against me in the murder trial. They are especially
notorious for corrupt police activities. Now, 22 years later; the evidence
showing a very intimate, even romantic, relationship between one of them and
Allred, remains suppressed by the prosecution team, with the aid of my
duplicitous defense attorney.
Classic Course in How to Frame an Innocent Man
However shocking the following may be to the uninitiated, it is very easy to
achieve by two simple ingredients: A treacherous defense attorney
deliberately aiding and covering up for prosecution officers' criminal
conduct, and a naive, trusting accused citizen ignorant of his legal rights,
blindly relying on fair play and justice to prevail.
Admitting to killing or shooting in self-defense, hands the prosecution team
two out of three strikes toward a murder conviction; so the more
honest/noncriminal the accused is in such a case, the greater are the
chances of his conviction while innocent of any crime. And it's the only
type of innocence case that all of the innocence-assistance organizations in
the USA refuse to get involved with, by policy (except one that I know of: Innocence Denied). The following list of more than 20 separate crimes
committed by the prosecutor and police is only the tip of the iceberg of
one category of fraud and gross error in this case, out of eighteen
separate major categories of other types of issues that won't be gone
into here at all, due to space limitations – some of which are equally as
egregious. It took 21 years of nonstop daily work due to prison impediments
and few outsiders willing to help, to gather the following proof of
these items, and more is still coming to the surface.
The following items, critical to determining guilt or innocence, were all
deliberately, by separate systematic acts of prosecution agents and the
defense attorney aiding them, manufactured, planted, materially altered,
hidden/suppressed, destroyed (where exonerating), and otherwise tampered
with to intentionally frame me for murder and imprison me for life, when
they knew I was innocent:
[1]The meat cleaver attack weapon was thrown away or given by police to the
attacker's mother. The jury never heard it existed, though it's in police
photos at the scene.
[2]The attacker's body was hastily cremated to allow the prosecutor to
proclaim to the jury that I repeatedly shot him in the back, when all shots
were from his front as he charged at me. The defense attorney told the jury
he agreed with the prosecutor. Nineteen years later, this same coroner has
finally been busted in another published case having falsified an autopsy
report to allow the prosecution to charge an innocent man with murder.
(Discovered only by exhumation, because that body was not cremated).
[3]Two different autopsy reports are referenced in police documents. The
later, falsified one, designed to fit the prosecutor's manufactured murder
case, was the only one the jury knew existed. The original one, by another
coroner who was never questioned in this case, remains suppressed.
[4] The attacker's fingerprints on his gun were deliberately removed by the
prosecutor's criminalist after confirmation that these visible fingerprints
in tacky blood, were Allred's. It's the only time we can find in forensic
history anywhere, that fingerprints were subjected to autoclaving – before
being printed. After autoclaving away the fingerprints with scalding steam
under pressure, the prosecutor then found no fingerprints remaining, so he
could then proclaim that absence of the fingerprints prove that I planted
the gun next to the “victim”, to feign self-defense after a heinous
execution style murder (all just made up out of nothing).
[5] A towel left at the crime scene by medics I called to save the guy, was
then used by the prosecutor as planted evidence to prove to the jury that I
wiped my own fingerprints off the “planted” gun with this towel.
[6] The prosecution's autoclaving action caused the caked blood on the gun
to run in the scalding steam; the prosecutor proclaimed that this was
“wiping” streaks and smearing made by me by wiping my fingerprints off the
planted gun; further proving murder.
[7] The attacker's two shirts and jacket would prove the bullets went from
front-to-back; so the prosecutor autoclaved these also, in an effort to
destroy the clothing fibers that proved this, and still to this day suppress
these clothes. (New technology can prove the true direction, even after
autoclaving, hence the police are refusing to let them be tested, now).
[8] Initial police reports show 3 or 4 bullets maximum expelled from my gun,
one of which was a wild shot off into the air, confirmed by a “fine
toothed-comb” search of the premises and my gun. Days later, the police went
back and miraculously found two more bullet shells right in the midst of
this close-cropped crime scene.
[9] Initial police reports corroborating each other, list “several” and
“some” unfired bullets left in my gun, besides one in the chamber. This
proved I expelled no more than 3 or 4 panicked shots. By trial time, all
police changed their stories to “one” left in the clip, to match the
manufactured murder case. To date, no one can account for the chain of
custody glitch and change, because my attorney stipulated away any inquiry
to cover up this fraud.
[10] The door jamb, severed, broken and splintered all over, showing the
immense violent force by the attacker to get at me, to kill me, was simply
turned over to the attacker's family and friends, along with my house in its
entirety, to quickly dismantle and destroy the crime scene long before
trial.
[11] The door itself was presented in trial – but not quite. It's most
important feature, the door knob with its bent steel shaft (proving Allred's
powerful, killer force to get at me), was carefully removed by police to put
into a “Hefty” garbage bag, and set out at the roadside for waste pickup and
disposal. It was fortuitously recovered with police fingerprints on it, to
use as evidence of evidence tampering. But my own attorney confiscated it
from me, to hide all through trial, to cover up for his police friends and
never let the jury know, and to destroy the fingerprints.
[12] Allred's unique shoeprints (several) were dusted with fingerprint
powder from my bedroom door he kicked in; but prosecution agents testified
they were “inconclusive” as to a match. (Not a single item in this case was
ever tested or forensically examined by the defense, though we paid the
defense attorney many thousands of dollars to do this work).
[13] Two autopsy photos, finally accessed by a strange twist of fate, after
being suppressed for 19 years, show the bullet hole in the attacker's back
considerably larger than the same wound hole in the front of the body,
proving the shot entered his front, not his back, as the prosecutor and
defense attorney insisted to the jury. These were hidden from me during
trial by my own attorney.
[14] My gun had reloaded, used junk target-shooting bullets, specifically of
special low power, low impact, low stopping effect on an attacker – the
opposite of what one would use if they had designs to kill someone. Worse,
the coroner, prosecutor, criminalist, defense attorney, all straight out
lied to the jury and judge, insisting that my bullets were standard,
high-power .45 grain slugs, therefore fired in excess of defensive need,
further proving murder.
[15] The garbage basket, a centerpiece of the crime scene, where Allred
appeared to be stashing some of his weaponry and/or other vital evidence,
after being shot, when the police entered the room with me to help the
attacker, was removed, along with all its contents before police photos were
taken of the scene. It simply vanished, to this day.
[16] The phone, covered with Allred's fingerprints in his blood, also
exculpating in several ways, was deliberately kept to allow mold to grow all
over it, to manipulate my attorney to stipulate to never bring it out of
storage for fingerprinting, or trial use.
[17] The floor carpeting, rife with blood trails, pointing to my exoneration
by several means, was torn out and destroyed. Carpet fibers in Allred's
blood on his gun, and the carpet trails, would prove he dragged the gun in
his hand across the floor, profusely, but all this was destroyed by the
prosecution.
[18] The prosecutor and defense attorney lied to the jury and judge,
assuring that Allred's blood was negative for all drugs. It wasn't even ever
tested for most drugs, and we know from a doctor's appointment hours before
the attack that he was issued experimental, highly controversial drugs for
blood-borne diseases.
[19] A cassette tape recording of a police-state witness interview, the only
witness claiming I had animosity toward Allred (she was their family
friend), suddenly disappeared from the police evidence locker during trial
when it was determined that it proved this testimony was perjury, coaxed by
the prosecutor.
[20] A dated cash register receipt for an item of critical evidence, proved
perjury by another state witness (a friend of Allred's family); therefore my
own attorney suppressed this receipt, its contents and impeachment evidence.
[21] Thousands of pages of my authored book notes, drawings, diaries,
business records, were seized with no warrant authority, including many
exculpatory ones, taken and kept solely to prevent me from using them as
evidence which disproved the prosecutor's fabricated case. Others were
forged by the prosecutor, defense attorney and court clerk by judge's order
right in front of my eyes, in the courtroom with the jury out, in order to
match a false blanket stipulation my attorney had earlier made, which agreed
to let the prosecutor tell the jury that my writings said whatever he
proclaimed. They therefore had to be forged to match, before going to the
jury as evidence, according to the judge.
[22] Photos now obtained, taken by police at the crime scene, prove perjury
by four different Los Gatos Police officers on very critical issues of
guilt.
[23] Essentially all crime scene evidence is proven to have been moved and
tampered with, based on photos taken by the police themselves; which they
swore under oath had not been touched or moved.
[24] All crime scene dimensions in diagrams critical of guilt or innocence
determinations, were so grossly distorted as to scale, shapes,
juxtaposition, relationships to everything, crucial distances, and a basic
understanding of the attack and need for self defense, that a jury could not
possibly have a clue as to what the real crime scene looked like and how
that related to the reality of the events, and guilt or innocence.
This list could go on for many more pages. The other eighteen different
major categories of trial errors and fraud could go on for many
hundreds of pages, and all is interconnected: The complexity, deliberately
contrived, has made the appeal and innocence petition process an impossible
maze of convolution that required years to complete and, as further issues
were being worked on, prison employees repeatedly destroyed years of the
work already done, requiring starting over again and again, burning up two
decades of my life. These evidence corruptions affected almost countless
other issues, like lines of dominoes falling behind this one issue. For
example, jury instructions necessary for acquittal could not be given to the
jury because the absence of the hidden, destroyed, altered evidence didn't
support there being given; not to mention my attorney not allowing me to
testify the exculpatory truth, because that would have exposed evidence that
was suppressed, altered and planted, which he sought to keep covered up to
aid the prosecution. Other examples flourish.
Prison: The Nightmare Had Not Yet Begun – 21 Years of
Torture Later, Still In Prison Twelve Years after Parole Date Passed
I have never been legally sentenced to prison – for 21 years. The judge
refused to let me complete my motion for new trial before pronouncing
judgment. California statutory law (Penal Code §1202) says that makes my
judgment and sentence void; it doesn't legally exist. The courts have no
regard for what any law says in this case. But, assuming my commitment to
prison had been legal, my parole date was, nonetheless, March, 1992. Even if
I had been actually guilty.
As punishment for having a physical disability, my imprisonment has been
essentially converted into a unique nightmare that may have no end short of
my death by actual prison-torture. MCS [Multiple Chemical Sensitivities] is
now, finally, recognized as a physical, medical disability and reality. I've
had a form of it since birth and, consequently, entered CDC (California
Department of Corrections [sic]) with it, in the early 1980s. Then, most
doctors didn't recognize that it was real, and thus began a terror campaign
with thousands of malicious, false reports, and tens of thousands of special
punishments that self-perpetuate forever. In CDC, Jacketing a prisoner with
a charge of “manipulation of staff” is worse than any other crime in
existence. My MCS adverse reactions to halogens (including fluoride and
chlorine in public and prison drinking water and many foods), means that the
only way I can drink water that's not specially filtered or distilled, and
many foods likewise, is to become toxically ill and experience a dehydrating
effect with every drink of this chemically-treated water. (This is not as
ironic as it may seem, as fluoride is the ingredient used in DCon rat poison
to bring about their agonizing death,' involving a dehydration process).
Sparked from my MCS condition which they labeled as “staff manipulation”
(highest form of “troublemaker” and “danger to the public”), over 1500 named
CDC employees would eventually jump on this bandwagon of sadistic hatred in
a literal war of terror against one man, while I behaved consistently as a
model prisoner. They simply invented a profile of the most extreme opposite,
and affixed it to my name and prison number. More is regularly added in
secret. This has kept me in the worst, most violent, oppressive prisons in
the state for most of my imprisonment, and intensified gruesome tortures,
that many prisoners of war have not been allowed to be subjected to.
Here are a few highlights these tax-paid “officers of the law” have achieved
in this insanely sadistic war of terror, because I had a disability and, in
the process of trying to get minimal, reasonable accommodations for it,
inadvertently exposed their vicious cruelties and demented criminality.
I've been violently brutalized by guards, including acts such as trying to
murder me by throwing me on my head off a high balcony and tearing my beard
out by the roots in fingerfulls, while hysterically, maniacally laughing in
ecstasy (1984-1995);
Been persistently set up by guards, by “counselors” and administrators to
have other prisoners brutalize and murder me, giving the most violent,
homicidal inmate “shotcallers” the “green light” to have me viciously “hit”
(1992-2003);
They've destroyed my previously perfect hearing, one ear virtually deaf, and
the other damaged worse with a rare hyperacousis condition, where certain
pitches of normal sound strike my brain and nervous system so traumatically
that it's akin to being hit in the head with a baseball bat and shocked in
the heart with high voltage (1986-present, with continuous
takings/destruction of my hearing aids);
My vision has been severely damaged by years of forced toxic ingestion,
repeated head trauma and other abuses, almost certainly permanently
(1983-present, continuously);
I have permanent spinal, pelvic and elbow damage from a car accident, when
guards horse playing, smashed their “chase” car into the other car I was in.
I was being transported to a hospital after almost having my arm amputated
from an infection deliberately inflicted by these agents, including medical
staff, whose prolonged denial of intervention exacerbated the condition to
this degree (1994);
Near murders: Eleven times I have been starved, dehydrated and emaciated by
cachexia to the point where it was doubtful my life could be pulled back and
saved. 0n hundreds of other occasions and generally for 21 years, I've been
kept in a state of chronic dehydration-torture as a daily norm
(1983-present);
They've tortured me with bromine poisoning, used as a chemical nerve-toxin,
pumped in our cell vents, (they admit this, supposedly to kill air duct
bacteria). I've been laughed at while screaming in pain day and night in a
locked cell for days on end, as they tried to force me to commit suicide,
and I nearly did, to end the pain. This pain is greater than all others in
my life combined, (except one, also inflicted by CDC staff); probably as
painful as slow testicle crushing (2001-2003);
I've been shot twice (1998, 1999), while set up by CDC employees to be
stabbed to death by inmates (these were block guns, but the old style that
shot compact blocks that would split the meat of the body open, blind and
kill);
I suffer extreme toxic reactions daily from chemical sensitivity to
cleaners, deodorants, tobacco, smoke, chemical food and water additives,
which I'm forced to breathe and ingest continuously day and night,
unnecessarily (1983-2004);
In 2001 these agents set me up to be attacked by inmates, from which I have
permanent brain damage, affecting my balance, memory, confusion, analytical
and other intellectual and artistic processes, from being kicked and stomped
in the head repeatedly. They were rewarded, and I was sent to the hole. They
weren't. They were not prosecuted. I'm still trying to get a medical
examination ordered years ago. It's now 2004;
I've had toxic boils repeatedly surgically cut out of me, where after these
agents have repeatedly falsified the official medical documents to cover up
this senseless horror (1980s, 1990s);
CDC agents have robbed me of my property over 75 times (usually grand
theft), sometimes to the tune of thousands of dollars of items, and often
irreplaceable items, such as my life works of music compositions, other art,
and legal evidence proving my innocence (1983-2003);
I've had over 30 retaliatory, terrorizing, life-changing transfers all
across the state; to continuously sabotage all my court actions and destroy
my family, wife and little children, which they did, many years ago;
I've been denied any canteen/commissary for 20 years continuously, except
once, as a penalty (punishment); for litigating against CDC while literally
starving due to food allergies, and denied needed medications for years,
available only via canteen. (This is unheard of as to any other prisoner in
California prison history);
These rogue agents (all members of the CCPOA guards' Union that has owned
the past few California governors), have sabotaged and blocked my court
access for the past 21 years, destroying every court case I ever filed and,
consequently, I am procedurally barred from using the courts due to my state
of indigence which CDC keeps me in;
I presently suffer under a crushing “Central File” (my “profile”) of over
8000 pages, being illegally denied a full review of since 1987. Hence, the
parole board and no one else can ever find the dozens of laudatory reports
submitted by the few courageous, honest guards and administrators who have
stuck their necks out to tell the truth about my continuing model prisoner
conduct;
Similarly, my honest, favorable psych reports are now buried beneath a
deluge of malicious, scurrilous ones, dishonestly penned as retaliation, to
perpetually have parole denied. This, and drugging prisoners senseless with
violence-inciting dope, has now become the CDC psych department's primary
function and purpose.
All of these shocking crimes have been committed (and continue to be) by a
literal street-gang of terrorists, a private army carrying on a personal war
of horrors in their secret cities on American soil. This is at a cost of
$millions for the sick, sadistic sport of twisted, depraved sociopaths
imprudently deputized and trusted with badges, guns and misplaced authority,
to carry on a personal war; in this instance, against one man.[2]
And yet what I have described is only a ripple in the skin of the tip of the
iceberg of this worst form of death ever devised by demonically-driven men:
Death By Imprisonment, USA style. Contemporary language has no words yet to
define or describe what's going on in these places.
I have no desire to complain, but only to explain, as I hope I've somewhat
achieved in this brief expose. To everyone who reads this and is touched by
it, your involvement to stop this sickness and insane terror, is necessary
and urgent. I don't mean for me, but for us all; for what is left of our
country. For anyone who would be interested in writing me, who could perhaps
offer some form of outreach, I welcome your correspondence, at:
PF Lazor C-73842
Mule Creek State Prison
P.O. Box 409000
Ione, CA 95640 (USA)
(Please do not send money to this address, as prison staff steal it all with
no chance of recovery, ever.) Outside contact person and address, for those
who prefer:
c/o Gayle Travis
P.O. Box 2994
San Ramon, CA 94583 (USA)
Tele: (925) 277-9665
Your support in whatever way possible, would be appreciated and welcomed.
This could have been you. More than ever now, it still could be.
------------------------------------------------------------
1. [This footnote has been added, for obvious reasons, by
friends; those who have been a part of PF's life, including involvement in
the following];
Mr. Lazor, while still in his 20s when incarcerated for life, was a
patents-holding inventor, a composer of hundreds of beautiful songs and
musical pieces, was a public figure, well known throughout the USA and
somewhat internationally as an incomparable stage performer, singer,
recording artist who was destined for the highest acclaim in the
entertainment industry. He acted in minor and major motion picture films,
held a national physical endurance competition record (which may still be
unbroken); he founded and successfully operated several small businesses
which served community needs, including an innovative organizing firm which
was probably the first of its kind. He established others in their own
businesses and presented his own training seminars in personal achievement
and leadership. He learned sign language and worked to benefit the deaf
community; he helped and visited the elderly, infirm and shut-ins, and
raised money and food for starving populations. PF held licenses and special
awards in piloting, skydiving, real estate, insurance and probably other
career vocations.
As a public figure in entertainment and business, PF was known as “Happy The
Clown” from the Detroit area, and as Buddy Holly, Jr., still performing his
world famous Buddy Holly, Jr. Show until imprisoned. PF was college
educated, but It meant little to him, as he was a self-starter and
businessman long before his years in college began. By age 20, he was a
hardback author of poetry and songs, self-published. When he was taken to
prison and still in his 20s, PF was a finalist candidate to be the first
private person (non-government sponsored) in history to enter outer space as
an astronaut, for “Project Private Enterprise” founded by a retired NASA
engineer. Like all else, PF lost all this by his senseless imprisonment.
These things are topped by several notable instances of PF saving the lives
of others in situations of danger, by putting his own safety at risk.
PF was also born a life & death case, struggling to stay alive, seasonally,
until age 8, then still deathly ill during periods throughout every year of
his life until the year before he was taken away to prison, when the cause
and cure of his devastating Illness was discovered and finally remedied.
He's had one year of life free from these conditions; imprisoned in his 20s,
now in his 50s.
2. A book is presently being written about all this, with
inclusion of documents proving most of it, and also covering the author's
life before this ordeal. It's entitled Against One Man.
*The information on this page is not necessarily current. The text was retrieved from Google's cache of the URL http://darwinlauralee.com/a2006-032-01.pdf on 11/23/2008.