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Wakeup, The Time Is 11:59PM and 59 seconds, The Clock Is Still Ticking

Monday, November 7, 2016 22:22
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(Before It's News)

Alright, many of you have already read and listened to my life for the last 2 1/2 years of my life, as a Targeted Individual.

Yes, I was fortunate two nice people from Twitter listened and told me they liked my article and audio.  To them both, I give them a huge thank you!

But, not having a support system through this nightmare for the last 2 1/2 years, other then the friendship of my life partner, and these two strangers who wrote were kind enough to read and listen to the audio. 

My daughter has passed; my sister, whom I was very close to, has passed.  So, my life partner, and two strangers cared enough to give me people to send my article and audio to.  I am grateful to them, especially my boyfriend who has remained my boyfriend through this nightmare.  Of course there are the gang, the gangs leaders, the Chinese, Iranians, and perhaps some Satanic rituals that have created this nightmare.

So, today I want to reflect back in time to another America.  A time before gangs, a time before computers and cellphones.  Back to a time where much of America was living on small family farms, to a time when many more Americans lived in the small towns of america.  Back to a happier time of the 1950′s and the1960′s. A time when we were young so long ago.

At this time in 1954, I was first placed in foster care on a cold late winters evening.  My small box of belongings was brought by the case worker to a 1920′s white wooden home.  Here, the social worker Mrs. Napper placed the small box on the steps as she knocked on Mrs. D’s home.  Mrs. D lived ablock away from the old apartment building I had lived in with my family.  Only just the day before Mrs. D had found me crying, as I walked alone on Cornelia Street, in the town I was born only a few short years before.  Today, I realize my family was lower middle class, no car, no home. We lived in an old apartment building. But, it was home, it was my family.  I cried as I walked down that street realizing we were all being separated.  Mrs. D showed concern and asked why I was crying.  I explained that my Daddie was dead, and now my Mommie, was ill and I had no home.  She asked if I would like to live with her and her family.  I said yes, through the tears, I would have lived anywhere at that moment.  The sadness was so overwhelming.

So, that evening, I met Mr. D.  I loved him the moment I met him.  He had a twinkle in eyes, and he loved to tease me. I knew he cared for me.  They had a seventeen year old foster child, and we shared a bedroom.  I really liked her, and finaly there was Joe he was another foster child, and very sweet.

It was good living there but, I really missed my family.  Nine months later just before thanksgiving, my mother was released from the hospital.  The caseworker, came to visit me at Mrs. D’s.  She talked with me in private, and asked if I would like to live with my family again.  Of course, I said yes.  Mrs. D, was upset with my decsion. She never spoke with me again.  Even though, I lived in the same apartment building, only a block from home.

Mom was not well enough to care for us, and in the winter of that year, I was placed on a small farm, five miles from the town I was born.  Here, I was to live for ten years.  My new foster parents were very kind.  But, it was a business for them. Raising foster children allowed the couple to keep the farm, after his Mom and Dad died.  But, they needed to supplement their income.  I missed my family, my older sister and I had been extremely close. She was my surrogate Mom, when my mother was ill.  This break, and not seeing her for nearly five years was quite difficult.

But, life went on as I adjusted, to a new school, a farm, and life in a very small village.  This was a very quiet time for America.  Eisenhower was our president.  The depression, and the WWII, had been over for almost ten years. The factories were humming.  In our small town we had a local builder, who also had a successful lumber yard.  Only five miles away we had a dairy, papermill, a University of New York, and a large SAC Airforce Base and of course our family farms.  All of this brought revenue for our community.  Yes, Americans were employed in the North Country in the 1950′s and 1960′s. Here you found a strong contented middle class.

At this time immigation laws were quite strict.  There no such thing as gang stalking.  Americans were not actively involved with gangs.  Perhaps the inner city had a few beatniks, and we were still struggling with drugs but, that was in the inner cities.  Stalking did not exist.  Cellphones did not exist.  This as I have said before allows the gang to contact each other, and monitor the TI.  No, there was no monitoring of us by the wealthy nor, by a corporation.  There was no monitoring by our federal government, nor by any foreign government.

No, people were busy shopping, farming for their family food.  Summers spent canning and preparing the root cellar for winter meals, from the summer harvest, on the family farm. People within the city lived and worked there, there were no riots; there were few homeless, forced to live on a city street in the 1950′s.  Unfortunately, our cities began to have riots in the mid 1960′s.  But, still it did not create the chaos that we have today.  

People in America were busy raising familes, going to church on Sundays, and later a gathering with family, friends, celebrations and, picnics.

This was the North Country I experienced in the 1950′s.  This is the America I grew up in.  This is the America I knew. Times were different.  Perfect?  No not perfect, but people were content, direct, and more honest then today.

People seldom, saw great wealth in their lifetimes, but that didn’t seem to bother small town America to much  whether at school, in business, or friend, and families.  There was this quite understanding within us that there would always be various levels of wealth in our society.  But, there was no hunger, and I never saw a homeless person until 1985. This person was living on the streets in the mid-Wilshire district in Los Angeles, California.

You rarely saw the wealth, that is seen today, by the 1%. People were content to be able to strive for the attainable American dream a car, and a small 3 bedroom home, or family farm.  These were attainable dreams in the 1950′s and the 1960′s.  Today, that dream is all but impossible to attain.

People in America were happy with that small slice of the American dream.  Americans were happy, they had their family, home, and a car. Their jobs were stable.  Life was good.

What happened?  Twenty years after graduating from high school, I decided to go to a local community college. I contacted my favorite guidance counselor to request my transcripts.  When I did, we were discussing the city of LA, and the community I had grown up.  My former counselor shared with me that there was a 20 years gap between the small rural  community and the city.

Then I realized that I actually had grown up with the feelings, and custooms of of the 1930′s and 1940′s. Looking back in time, I then realized that our life’s on that small  family farm, was very much like those vintage 1930′s black and white films, which hollywood was creating at the time. Take a look at these classic 1930′s films if you want to see rural America in the 1950′s.  This will really help you to understand what I am attempting to share in words.  Besides, they are great fun to watch.

Neigbors in the village wanting to give you a helping hand, when needed.  Farm neighbors stopping by to chat, while Mom cooked dinner, while this 9 year old rocked in the old rocking chair listeing as the ladies gossiped about local events. Right there in that old farm kitchen.

No, times were certainly different in the 1950′s and 1960′s.  Today small family farmers have been forced off their family farms due to inheritance taxes, and agenda 21, replaced by corporate food factories.

Now turn back the clock of time to the 1970′s and the 1980′s.  A time of changes for the family farmers.  Jobs,  and family farmers were becoming more scarce.  New York City lost a great many jobs in the 1950′s, which really was only the beginning.  The decison was made to abandon New York, and invest in California. You see the bankers like Nelson Rockefellor were sending the jobs and money to California.  Sound familiar?  Very much like the bankers have done to our country today when they sent capital and companies to China, over the last thirty years or so. 

Due to the shift of jobs, and building growth in California, forcing us off the family farms and out of the small towns across America.

Life was to be forever changed after we left the family farms, and small town America. The family farm served an important function during the depression in the 1920′s and 1940′s. It allowed a self sufficent America. The family farms gave Americans the ability to feed themselves as a people when the banks went under.  Now, they tell us to be preppers store dried food, water to be prepared.  Prepared, but how much can you store, in a small aptaertment. How long will it last. The family farms were gutted so the agriculture corporations could control a larger piece of the food industry, but I believe it was also an Agenda 21 decision so we could be controlled easier as a people. You know control all the food, and they can completely control us . We Americans are now at the mercy of a government we no longer trust, and has left us broke as a nation, with no control over our food supply.

Now, this election we have a mam, Donald Trump, a very brave man, running for President Of The United Sstates of America, and taking on this globalist assault on this nation.  Mr. Trump’s goal is to stop this one world government from taking control. To stop globalism. 

God bless you Mr. Trump!  And to the rest of us the clock is ticking and the hand is almost at midnight.  Friends I am 69 1/2 years old, but many of you are young and have a lifetime of days.  What we do now will make a difference for your today and for your tomorrows.

So, to all those involved with gangs, give them up.  Leave them. Give up that buck you make by doing the corporate gang’s bidding, by doing the governments bidding, or the rich mans biddings, don’t let them be in control of you.  Don’t let these three entities control you, and control our country.  My dear’s it is your choice.

Change, is in your hands. You are the only person that can do this change. Get a trade, go to college, create a career.  You have choices, it is your life.  But, stop working for the gang.  The gang is the globalist attempting to destroy America through you.  Do you really want a one world government?  To be their slave? When you work  for a gang you are giving the globalist the power to destroy our country by destroying innocent Americans.

One must realize the globalists are poisoning our air, our water, our food, our body. Their goal which has been stated in numerous publications is a gigantic reduction of the worlds population.

So, wakeup American citizens, the time is 11:59 PM and 59 seconds. Let’s save our nation.





D G  Wendt



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