“It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.
Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
- "Auguries of Innocence”
―William Blake, The Complete Poems
It’s two weeks into my #vanlife adventure, and I’m having a fabulous time.
I write from central Oregon, surrounded by trees and quiet, snug in my warm van, safe from the MONSTROUS mosquitoes hovering outside. Who knew Oregon grew such big ones? Alas, the parasites have ruined a few idyllic walks, drilling right through my clothes, and Sparky’s fur. I’ve learned to take a wet washcloth to bed with me, alert and ready to lash and whip the air when the telltale whine reaches my ears. Never has utter quiet been so satisfying!
One cool benefit of this trip to date is the sheer physicality of living in a van. Moving things, climbing up and down, and using tools for instillation projects, like this side door bug screen which, I learned, truly is a “Van Essential':”
While journaling today, I recalled one of my favorite poems shared above, which helps me hold perspective as a survivor of Organized Extreme Abuse. It’s interesting to me that William Blake warned of “dark satanic mills,” though scholars have debated this reference being literal. I suspect and hope he was aware that in many “company towns,” where workers lived under harsh control, occult ritual abuse did actually occur.
In 2012 I felt a very creepy, familiar Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) vibe while visiting Roche Harbor, Washington, only to find upon researching that it had once been a company town mining lime, had a “mysterious mausoleum” in the woods, and the town founder was a mason. Validating.
Both my grandfather and uncle, perpetrators of sexual abuse and worse, worked for Weyerhaeuser, and my memories implicate this company in Organized Extreme Abuse. A shocking recollection I metabolized in 2013 involved a large mansion, a party of well-dressed adults, a secret passage, and far too many children in party clothes, most of whom did not live through the night. Such parties are frequently spoken about by survivors of OEA (for example, global whistleblower Anneke Lucas), and a sanitized version (sans children and so much violence) is depicted in the Hollywood limited hangout masked ball scene in Eyes Wide Shut.
Researching my memories of this “party” from my childhood led me to believe that it took place in Tacoma, WA USA at this mansion, called “Haddaway Hall,” which was put on the market in 2012 for $6.4 million:
I found this 2020 video biography on the Weyerhaeuser family, which states they still own 25 million acres of forestland across North America. Haddaway Hall is spoken about at 23:45. It has a seminary on the grounds and a chapel, and was sold to a newly formed non-profit on 2016.
Apparently this mansion was built on land previously owned by Allen C. Mason, who was said to have traveled to Egypt and brought back a mummified high priest. Sounds like an occult practitioner to me…did he sell his property to a secret society brother John Weyerhaeuser? The family made national headlines after the kidnapping of their son, George, who was buried in a pit before being eventually returned home safely after ransom was paid. History buffs will recall many kidnappings in wealthy elite families. Not to minimize the suffering of kidnapping, but I do wonder if there is more to these stories hidden behind the headlines. I remember being trapped and terrorized in a crypt as a child, and this is another common theme spoken about by survivors of SRA.
More on the dark side of modern life, last week I noticed what I took to be a sex trafficking lure at an Oregon rest stop, and per my memory, such lures are common at roadside rest areas. While sitting in my van with the side door open, a man walked multiple times in front of my window, shirtless. He was built like a boxer, and moved like a club bouncer. Not long after that, another man approached my open door, asking me questions about my van and my trip.
I gave vague answers, perfectly calm, though noticed he began to circle my van and inquire where my license plates were. (I have elected not to put plates on my van unless required to do so, but I have them in case). He was quite persistent, though presented himself as just a traveler, visiting town to camp from his car.
From both of these men, I felt a coordinated, predatory, surveillance vibe. When I’d ignored the inquiry other than brief answers and the intrusive man walked off, dissatisfied, the bouncer suddenly appeared and said, “Is that man bothering you, honey?” I said no and he left (deciding not to address his “honey”). I recognized their good cop-bad cop tag team approach, to ingratiate me to the rescuer. I remember these operations from growing up around them, and they do work on scared runaways. I grieve how kids are groomed for exploitation when vulnerable, as many sleep at rest areas in their cars on the run.
Now Back to the Lighter Side…
I love Bend, OR! Pictures tell the take here…
Yet…what’s under this mound called Pilot Butte? I’m curious…
Per Blake, safety comes from realizing both the joy and pain of life. I agree.
Love all your pictures. So Sparky meet his cousin dog :) Way to go installing the screen door!! I guess all the prep and tools are paying off. I'm so glad you found some water to play in and are staying safe.
Smart lady rigging up a screen and listening to your gut. (I love the wet washcloth idea!) Happy trails and hugs.