Experts from "My Life Changed Forever: The Years I Have Lost as a Target of Organized Stalking" #2
Previous: #1 https://ell-ochka.livejournal.com/183390.html
from Chapter 1. 1994-1997: City A
"In January of 1994, we lived in City A. We had lived there since 1991. I was having allergy symptoms and I called my doctor. She referred me to an allergy and immunology practice, and the receptionist said I would be seen by Dr. Anthony Hanson. When Dr. Hanson entered the exam room, I remember that he walked over to a table that had medical supplies on it and seemed to make a slight adjustment to something on the table. I didn’t think too much about it -I just figured he must like things to be in their place. Dr. Hanson took my history, examined me, and suggested that I have skin testing to determine what allergies I might have. The doctor told me the nurse would be coming in to start the skin testing, and he left the room so I could change into a gown. The nurse came in a few minutes later and was very pleasant and talkative. She was getting things set up when all of a sudden she seemed to see something that made her very angry. She stopped talking and started banging things around. I remember she opened the drawer of the table with medical supplies on it and slammed it shut hard. It was as if something had made her very angry and she was trying to make a point to someone. She excused herself from the room, and when she returned a few minutes later, she seemed to have calmed down. I have often asked myself why I didn’t ask her what was wrong. All I can say is that for some reason, I decided to remain silent at that moment. If I had the chance to do it over again, I would have asked. However, my guess is that she might not have told me what made her so angry anyway. As I have thought about it over the years, I have come to the conclusion that Dr. Hanson may have had a hidden camera in the room, and the nurse no doubt felt it was an invasion of privacy. It was probably what Dr. Hanson adjusted on the table, and probably what she noticed as she was setting up for the testing. Perhaps she realized that it had been on while I was getting undressed. I do remember that when Dr. Hanson was describing the skin testing, he assured me that they would be “checking on me” throughout the testing while they waited for reactions. However, no one ever came into the room during that time. Whether my hunch is correct or not doesn’t change anything, but it might explain Dr. Hanson’s interest in secretly watching people. I still wonder if that was the day that Dr. Hanson or someone else in the office decided that for whatever reason, I might be a possible subject or victim for whatever they were planning. I am just searching for answers.
Within a few weeks after that, my life began to change. Of all the hundreds and hundreds of strange things that have happened to me since then, there have been some common denominators: Dr. Anthony Hanson and at least two rather tall, slender women. The women have worn several different hairstyles and looks, but I believe they are the same women. Within a few weeks after my visit to his office, I started to hear a faint beep at the end of all my phone calls on my home phone. I have heard the same sort of beep on recorded phone messages, but I really had no idea of the significance of it. I just knew that I had never heard it before on our phone, and I would always hear it if I let the other person hung up first. The beep remained for the rest of the time we lived in City A, which was until 1997.
A few weeks after my appointment with Dr. Hanson, Mark and I happened to drive by the street corner where Dr. Hanson’s office was. It was at a location that we drove by fairly often. It was early on a Saturday evening, and we had talked very specifically about where we were going and when we would leave home. With almost perfect timing, as we were driving by that corner, I saw Dr. Hanson turn out of his office parking lot. I didn’t recognize his vehicle or anything, but I recognized him driving.
In late January or February, 1994, I remember talking to Mark at his office one evening after I had taken our daughter, Cindy, to her dance lesson. I mentioned the mall where her lesson was by name because I was telling Mark about something special that was going on there, how it was always empty on Monday nights but on that particular night it had been crowded. This particular mall was not a crowded or trendy mall. It was usually deserted on Monday nights, but I went there every Monday night because I took Cindy to her dance lesson.
One night, we were leaving dance class in February or March. It was a cold night, and Cindy and I were hurrying out to my van. I remember being a little perplexed because a security guard was escorting a man into the mall just as we were leaving. Then, when we got to my van, the front passenger door was unlocked! I never leave my car unlocked, so that was very unusual. After I got in and started the car, I saw a different man get out of the passenger side of a car parked a few spaces down, facing us. It was as if he had been waiting in the car. I had not noticed him before he got out of the car. He turned around once and looked at us, and then he headed toward the mall. I got the impression that the first man had come from the same car that this man got out of. What had the security guard found him doing, and why was my car unlocked when I was sure I had locked it? The next week, I saw Dr. Anthony Hanson at the mall just as we arrived for Cindy’s dance class. He was walking along slowly in front of the stores on the other side. A week or two later, I noticed a woman watching Cindy’s dance class from the mall. I was sitting on one of the benches outside the studio. The dance studio had windows facing the mall side, and it was not unusual for people to stop for a few minutes and watch the dance classes. The woman that night seemed to watch for a long time -maybe 5 to 10 minutes. I looked across to the other side of the mall, and there was Dr. Hanson, standing in front of the stores on the other side. When he saw me looking at him, he started walking. It seemed like he was waiting for this woman who was watching the dance class. I never forgot her face because it was disturbing in a way, and I found out later that she was Anthony Hanson’s wife! (She was not one of the tall women I referred to.) Was this all a coincidence, or did they know we would be there? What was going on? From that point on, strange things continued to happen to me.
There were so many that I started to the document them because I had every intention of finding out the what was going on. To this day, I still haven’t. Not every incident I write about is necessarily related to the stalking, but they are all strange things that have happened since it started. The only theory I have is that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and my family and I have become the target of an elaborate organized stalking game. What this has to do with Anthony Hanson and the tall women, I don’t know, but I know they have continued to show up at places they couldn't possibly know about unless my phones were tapped, my home was bugged, and my car could be followed. There may be another mastermind behind this, but they are involved somehow. I have to believe that in order to involve the number of people that they have, they must have some extraordinary explanation of what they are doing. I believe they are sociopaths who enjoy playing mind games. Again, I need to say that we are ordinary people, and I have never been able to come up with a reason why we were selected as targets."
"I realized I was often being followed. At that time, people did not even try to conceal it. Sometimes one would nudge the other and nod in my direction, as if to say, "There she is." People who were obvious about this when it first started happening seemed to know when I had appointments, and where. The question continued to be this: Why was I being singled out to be followed and spied on?
Being followed is a difficult thing to talk about because many people who think others are "following" them are either paranoid or delusional. I know that I am neither of those. I believe the people behind all this know that as long as they do nothing to get caught, my story will sound delusional, and no one will believe me. I would later learn that this is exactly what organized stalkers think! Having something like this happened to me was so puzzling that it seemed like months went by before I could even believe it. As I look back, I wonder why we did not change the locks on our doors right away. I think there was a lengthy period of disbelief because there was no explanation for what was happening."
"For years, we almost always went out to dinner as a family on the Friday nights. We ate at many different places. One Friday evening, we were leaving the house when I noticed a Jeep driving very slowly around the block. We started talking about the where we wanted to eat after we started to drive, and we decided on certain restaurant that was at least a 20 minute drive away. There are literally hundreds of restaurants in City A, and dozens of them are in the same area as this restaurant, yet this Jeep drove all the way from our neighborhood to the very same restaurant! Their Jeep was in front of us for most of the way, so I think they had to have heard us talking in our car. I have more evidence of this later. They took table not too far from us and seemed to watch us the whole time. If that were the only thing that ever happened, I would say it was a coincidence, but this started happening all the time."
"In the spring of 1994, we had Cindy evaluated for attention deficit disorder by an educational psychologist in City A. Her teacher had recommended it based on her observations and evaluations of Cindy in the classroom. After the psychologist met with Cindy a few times, she had a conference with Mark and me to discuss her recommendations. She recommended that we start Cindy on a stimulant medication to see if it improved her attention and focus in the classroom. It was a difficult decision for us, and the only reason I am disclosing something so personal is because of a strange remark the psychologist made to us. She suggested that we tell Cindy’s teachers that we were starting the medication. She then seemed slightly irritated and said that she didn’t care how they did it in “State N;” in our area of the country, “we like to tell the teachers.” We were puzzled by this cryptic remark, and Mark spoke right up and asked her what she meant. She said that there was a doctor who had practiced in State N who advocated not telling the teachers when a child was taking medication for attention deficit disorder. He claimed that waiting to see if the teacher saw a difference in the child was a better indicator that the medication was working than if you told them ahead of time. Anthony Hanson had practiced pediatric medicine in State N for several years before moving to the City A area. That fact did not sink in until later. Was this yet another coincidence, or was he getting involved in our lives? Why? This was not the first time that something like this happened. Over the years, when talking with various people, I have sensed on numerous occasions that they knew more about me than I had yet told them. In the case of the above remark by the psychologist, I wish that we had followed up with a question about whether this doctor from State N was just someone she had read about or whether he had actually talked to her about Cindy. The only reason she even told us what she did was because Mark and I had looked at each other with puzzled expressions and Mark asked her what she meant.
In July, 1994, Mark, Cindy and I drove to Washington, D.C. I remember we left City A on a Saturday. After driving for about three hours, I noticed a car that was staying near us for quite a few miles, either passing ahead of us or right behind us. I didn’t pay too much attention until Mark started to pass it, and for some reason, he asked me to turn around and see what kind of car it was. Maybe Mark had noticed that the car had stayed close to us for quite a few miles. When I looked over as we were passing it, I couldn’t believe it. There was Anthony Hanson in the front passenger seat. He kept looking straight ahead until we were past. Another man was driving. Soon after that, their car headed in a different direction, as far as I could tell. Another coincidence?
Their car might have been following us all the way from City A.
Our next-door neighbor was a single man in his forties named Daniel Lloyd. He lived on the corner, and the pod of mailboxes for our cul-de-sac was on the street adjacent to the side of his house, across from his driveway. One day, I left to pick up Cindy from school. I sometimes turned right out of our street and drove around the block so I could pull up next to the mailboxes and reach our mail from the left front window of my van. I can only assume that it looked like I had already left the area, because after I drove around the block and approached the mailboxes across from Daniel’s house, there was Anthony Hanson standing in Daniel’s driveway! It looked like they were about to leave in Daniel’s car. He seemed startled to see my van, and he turned around quickly to walk back into the garage. I have no idea what his connection to Daniel Lloyd was or why he was there. I remember it was a Friday afternoon. I have often found that looking back on certain events or circumstances gives me more insight than when I was actually going through them. It wasn’t until after we had moved to City B that I thought about our relationship with Daniel Lloyd. He kept mostly to himself, and we rarely saw him. This was especially true after the day I saw Anthony Hanson at his house. It was too large of a city for that to be a coincidence. I often wonder if Daniel was the neighbor who kept tabs on us at that house. If so, when and how did he get involved? Was Anthony Hanson there that day to check out the monitoring equipment at Daniel’s house, or was that the day he first approached Daniel about helping to spy on us? Another option is that they already knew each other, but I believe that is highly unlikely."
"At this point, in 1994, I was talkative about all of this to Mark but to no one else. Who would believe it? Mark said I should forget about it. He had basically decided that since he couldn’t figure out why anyone would do this to us and there was no real proof, he didn’t want to have to think about it. I did try to forget about it, but things kept happening.
Over the next few years, there was continual evidence that people were entering our house when we were not home. Also, it seemed like any place I went, when I return to my car, there would be someone sitting in a car nearby, almost watching me. They would immediately get on the cell phone, and they would often start their car right after I started mine. This happened dozens and dozens of times. I still believe that Anthony Hanson was involved in some way. In 1996, with some research, I found out that he had moved and was practicing medicine in City X. I believe that somehow, he was still involved in this from wherever he was living."
"In early 1996, I did some grant writing for an organization in State A. The first time I met with the director, she gave me a stack of materials she thought would be helpful. It was mostly information on their organization and other things she pulled from her files. I looked through everything, and I kept the materials for a few months. I kept them in a separate stack so I wouldn’t misplace anything of hers. When I returned them, she took a minute to look through them and to recall what she had given me. She paused for a second and looked puzzled, and she showed me a brochure on the XYZ Foundation from a year or two before. I asked if she had given that to me with everything else, and she said she hadn’t. I knew it wasn’t mine, so she said she would just keep it. The XYZ Foundation is associated with the university where Anthony Hanson went to medical school. I know I did not put the brochure there."
"All kinds of strange things continued to happen to our phones. I have no idea what they might have done to our phone, but when the phone company finally found an illegal interception on one of our lines (in State B), I was not at all surprised. One evening, I hit redial button of my phone and it connect me to a medical answering service. I know that was not the last number I had called. In fact, I have never even heard of them. That was right after my phone rang, and the collar hung up after I answered. I began to wonder if there was a way my calls were being forwarded to another number. Another time, I picked up the phone to make a call. There was no dial tone, but there were people talking in background. It sounded like their phone was off the hook. I listened for a few minutes, and finally a man yelled, “I found the tape!” Someone finally hung up the phone. That was not the last time that would happen.
Soon after that, I called the phone company and made general complaint about our phone service. I believe I said something about the fact that it seems like maybe “our line was crossed with someone else’s.” That was the only way I could think of to explain it. The phone company rep said they would have someone check the line. A few days later, I answered the phone one evening. A man on the other end ask for someone by name, and I said he must have the wrong number. He then started to laugh, and save us a lot of noise in the background. He said that maybe we had our “lines crossed.” Of course, no one could possibly have known about that conversation unless our phone has been tapped. Over and over, the types of things the organized stalkers do reveal what seek and sordid individuals they are. He sounded like a grown man, but it seemed like a junior high school prank."
from "My Life Changed Forever: The Years I Have Lost as a Target of Organized Stalking" by Elizabeth Sullivan
Next: #3 https://ell-ochka.livejournal.com/184557.html
from Chapter 1. 1994-1997: City A
"In January of 1994, we lived in City A. We had lived there since 1991. I was having allergy symptoms and I called my doctor. She referred me to an allergy and immunology practice, and the receptionist said I would be seen by Dr. Anthony Hanson. When Dr. Hanson entered the exam room, I remember that he walked over to a table that had medical supplies on it and seemed to make a slight adjustment to something on the table. I didn’t think too much about it -I just figured he must like things to be in their place. Dr. Hanson took my history, examined me, and suggested that I have skin testing to determine what allergies I might have. The doctor told me the nurse would be coming in to start the skin testing, and he left the room so I could change into a gown. The nurse came in a few minutes later and was very pleasant and talkative. She was getting things set up when all of a sudden she seemed to see something that made her very angry. She stopped talking and started banging things around. I remember she opened the drawer of the table with medical supplies on it and slammed it shut hard. It was as if something had made her very angry and she was trying to make a point to someone. She excused herself from the room, and when she returned a few minutes later, she seemed to have calmed down. I have often asked myself why I didn’t ask her what was wrong. All I can say is that for some reason, I decided to remain silent at that moment. If I had the chance to do it over again, I would have asked. However, my guess is that she might not have told me what made her so angry anyway. As I have thought about it over the years, I have come to the conclusion that Dr. Hanson may have had a hidden camera in the room, and the nurse no doubt felt it was an invasion of privacy. It was probably what Dr. Hanson adjusted on the table, and probably what she noticed as she was setting up for the testing. Perhaps she realized that it had been on while I was getting undressed. I do remember that when Dr. Hanson was describing the skin testing, he assured me that they would be “checking on me” throughout the testing while they waited for reactions. However, no one ever came into the room during that time. Whether my hunch is correct or not doesn’t change anything, but it might explain Dr. Hanson’s interest in secretly watching people. I still wonder if that was the day that Dr. Hanson or someone else in the office decided that for whatever reason, I might be a possible subject or victim for whatever they were planning. I am just searching for answers.
Within a few weeks after that, my life began to change. Of all the hundreds and hundreds of strange things that have happened to me since then, there have been some common denominators: Dr. Anthony Hanson and at least two rather tall, slender women. The women have worn several different hairstyles and looks, but I believe they are the same women. Within a few weeks after my visit to his office, I started to hear a faint beep at the end of all my phone calls on my home phone. I have heard the same sort of beep on recorded phone messages, but I really had no idea of the significance of it. I just knew that I had never heard it before on our phone, and I would always hear it if I let the other person hung up first. The beep remained for the rest of the time we lived in City A, which was until 1997.
A few weeks after my appointment with Dr. Hanson, Mark and I happened to drive by the street corner where Dr. Hanson’s office was. It was at a location that we drove by fairly often. It was early on a Saturday evening, and we had talked very specifically about where we were going and when we would leave home. With almost perfect timing, as we were driving by that corner, I saw Dr. Hanson turn out of his office parking lot. I didn’t recognize his vehicle or anything, but I recognized him driving.
In late January or February, 1994, I remember talking to Mark at his office one evening after I had taken our daughter, Cindy, to her dance lesson. I mentioned the mall where her lesson was by name because I was telling Mark about something special that was going on there, how it was always empty on Monday nights but on that particular night it had been crowded. This particular mall was not a crowded or trendy mall. It was usually deserted on Monday nights, but I went there every Monday night because I took Cindy to her dance lesson.
One night, we were leaving dance class in February or March. It was a cold night, and Cindy and I were hurrying out to my van. I remember being a little perplexed because a security guard was escorting a man into the mall just as we were leaving. Then, when we got to my van, the front passenger door was unlocked! I never leave my car unlocked, so that was very unusual. After I got in and started the car, I saw a different man get out of the passenger side of a car parked a few spaces down, facing us. It was as if he had been waiting in the car. I had not noticed him before he got out of the car. He turned around once and looked at us, and then he headed toward the mall. I got the impression that the first man had come from the same car that this man got out of. What had the security guard found him doing, and why was my car unlocked when I was sure I had locked it? The next week, I saw Dr. Anthony Hanson at the mall just as we arrived for Cindy’s dance class. He was walking along slowly in front of the stores on the other side. A week or two later, I noticed a woman watching Cindy’s dance class from the mall. I was sitting on one of the benches outside the studio. The dance studio had windows facing the mall side, and it was not unusual for people to stop for a few minutes and watch the dance classes. The woman that night seemed to watch for a long time -maybe 5 to 10 minutes. I looked across to the other side of the mall, and there was Dr. Hanson, standing in front of the stores on the other side. When he saw me looking at him, he started walking. It seemed like he was waiting for this woman who was watching the dance class. I never forgot her face because it was disturbing in a way, and I found out later that she was Anthony Hanson’s wife! (She was not one of the tall women I referred to.) Was this all a coincidence, or did they know we would be there? What was going on? From that point on, strange things continued to happen to me.
There were so many that I started to the document them because I had every intention of finding out the what was going on. To this day, I still haven’t. Not every incident I write about is necessarily related to the stalking, but they are all strange things that have happened since it started. The only theory I have is that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and my family and I have become the target of an elaborate organized stalking game. What this has to do with Anthony Hanson and the tall women, I don’t know, but I know they have continued to show up at places they couldn't possibly know about unless my phones were tapped, my home was bugged, and my car could be followed. There may be another mastermind behind this, but they are involved somehow. I have to believe that in order to involve the number of people that they have, they must have some extraordinary explanation of what they are doing. I believe they are sociopaths who enjoy playing mind games. Again, I need to say that we are ordinary people, and I have never been able to come up with a reason why we were selected as targets."
"I realized I was often being followed. At that time, people did not even try to conceal it. Sometimes one would nudge the other and nod in my direction, as if to say, "There she is." People who were obvious about this when it first started happening seemed to know when I had appointments, and where. The question continued to be this: Why was I being singled out to be followed and spied on?
Being followed is a difficult thing to talk about because many people who think others are "following" them are either paranoid or delusional. I know that I am neither of those. I believe the people behind all this know that as long as they do nothing to get caught, my story will sound delusional, and no one will believe me. I would later learn that this is exactly what organized stalkers think! Having something like this happened to me was so puzzling that it seemed like months went by before I could even believe it. As I look back, I wonder why we did not change the locks on our doors right away. I think there was a lengthy period of disbelief because there was no explanation for what was happening."
"For years, we almost always went out to dinner as a family on the Friday nights. We ate at many different places. One Friday evening, we were leaving the house when I noticed a Jeep driving very slowly around the block. We started talking about the where we wanted to eat after we started to drive, and we decided on certain restaurant that was at least a 20 minute drive away. There are literally hundreds of restaurants in City A, and dozens of them are in the same area as this restaurant, yet this Jeep drove all the way from our neighborhood to the very same restaurant! Their Jeep was in front of us for most of the way, so I think they had to have heard us talking in our car. I have more evidence of this later. They took table not too far from us and seemed to watch us the whole time. If that were the only thing that ever happened, I would say it was a coincidence, but this started happening all the time."
"In the spring of 1994, we had Cindy evaluated for attention deficit disorder by an educational psychologist in City A. Her teacher had recommended it based on her observations and evaluations of Cindy in the classroom. After the psychologist met with Cindy a few times, she had a conference with Mark and me to discuss her recommendations. She recommended that we start Cindy on a stimulant medication to see if it improved her attention and focus in the classroom. It was a difficult decision for us, and the only reason I am disclosing something so personal is because of a strange remark the psychologist made to us. She suggested that we tell Cindy’s teachers that we were starting the medication. She then seemed slightly irritated and said that she didn’t care how they did it in “State N;” in our area of the country, “we like to tell the teachers.” We were puzzled by this cryptic remark, and Mark spoke right up and asked her what she meant. She said that there was a doctor who had practiced in State N who advocated not telling the teachers when a child was taking medication for attention deficit disorder. He claimed that waiting to see if the teacher saw a difference in the child was a better indicator that the medication was working than if you told them ahead of time. Anthony Hanson had practiced pediatric medicine in State N for several years before moving to the City A area. That fact did not sink in until later. Was this yet another coincidence, or was he getting involved in our lives? Why? This was not the first time that something like this happened. Over the years, when talking with various people, I have sensed on numerous occasions that they knew more about me than I had yet told them. In the case of the above remark by the psychologist, I wish that we had followed up with a question about whether this doctor from State N was just someone she had read about or whether he had actually talked to her about Cindy. The only reason she even told us what she did was because Mark and I had looked at each other with puzzled expressions and Mark asked her what she meant.
In July, 1994, Mark, Cindy and I drove to Washington, D.C. I remember we left City A on a Saturday. After driving for about three hours, I noticed a car that was staying near us for quite a few miles, either passing ahead of us or right behind us. I didn’t pay too much attention until Mark started to pass it, and for some reason, he asked me to turn around and see what kind of car it was. Maybe Mark had noticed that the car had stayed close to us for quite a few miles. When I looked over as we were passing it, I couldn’t believe it. There was Anthony Hanson in the front passenger seat. He kept looking straight ahead until we were past. Another man was driving. Soon after that, their car headed in a different direction, as far as I could tell. Another coincidence?
Their car might have been following us all the way from City A.
Our next-door neighbor was a single man in his forties named Daniel Lloyd. He lived on the corner, and the pod of mailboxes for our cul-de-sac was on the street adjacent to the side of his house, across from his driveway. One day, I left to pick up Cindy from school. I sometimes turned right out of our street and drove around the block so I could pull up next to the mailboxes and reach our mail from the left front window of my van. I can only assume that it looked like I had already left the area, because after I drove around the block and approached the mailboxes across from Daniel’s house, there was Anthony Hanson standing in Daniel’s driveway! It looked like they were about to leave in Daniel’s car. He seemed startled to see my van, and he turned around quickly to walk back into the garage. I have no idea what his connection to Daniel Lloyd was or why he was there. I remember it was a Friday afternoon. I have often found that looking back on certain events or circumstances gives me more insight than when I was actually going through them. It wasn’t until after we had moved to City B that I thought about our relationship with Daniel Lloyd. He kept mostly to himself, and we rarely saw him. This was especially true after the day I saw Anthony Hanson at his house. It was too large of a city for that to be a coincidence. I often wonder if Daniel was the neighbor who kept tabs on us at that house. If so, when and how did he get involved? Was Anthony Hanson there that day to check out the monitoring equipment at Daniel’s house, or was that the day he first approached Daniel about helping to spy on us? Another option is that they already knew each other, but I believe that is highly unlikely."
"At this point, in 1994, I was talkative about all of this to Mark but to no one else. Who would believe it? Mark said I should forget about it. He had basically decided that since he couldn’t figure out why anyone would do this to us and there was no real proof, he didn’t want to have to think about it. I did try to forget about it, but things kept happening.
Over the next few years, there was continual evidence that people were entering our house when we were not home. Also, it seemed like any place I went, when I return to my car, there would be someone sitting in a car nearby, almost watching me. They would immediately get on the cell phone, and they would often start their car right after I started mine. This happened dozens and dozens of times. I still believe that Anthony Hanson was involved in some way. In 1996, with some research, I found out that he had moved and was practicing medicine in City X. I believe that somehow, he was still involved in this from wherever he was living."
"In early 1996, I did some grant writing for an organization in State A. The first time I met with the director, she gave me a stack of materials she thought would be helpful. It was mostly information on their organization and other things she pulled from her files. I looked through everything, and I kept the materials for a few months. I kept them in a separate stack so I wouldn’t misplace anything of hers. When I returned them, she took a minute to look through them and to recall what she had given me. She paused for a second and looked puzzled, and she showed me a brochure on the XYZ Foundation from a year or two before. I asked if she had given that to me with everything else, and she said she hadn’t. I knew it wasn’t mine, so she said she would just keep it. The XYZ Foundation is associated with the university where Anthony Hanson went to medical school. I know I did not put the brochure there."
"All kinds of strange things continued to happen to our phones. I have no idea what they might have done to our phone, but when the phone company finally found an illegal interception on one of our lines (in State B), I was not at all surprised. One evening, I hit redial button of my phone and it connect me to a medical answering service. I know that was not the last number I had called. In fact, I have never even heard of them. That was right after my phone rang, and the collar hung up after I answered. I began to wonder if there was a way my calls were being forwarded to another number. Another time, I picked up the phone to make a call. There was no dial tone, but there were people talking in background. It sounded like their phone was off the hook. I listened for a few minutes, and finally a man yelled, “I found the tape!” Someone finally hung up the phone. That was not the last time that would happen.
Soon after that, I called the phone company and made general complaint about our phone service. I believe I said something about the fact that it seems like maybe “our line was crossed with someone else’s.” That was the only way I could think of to explain it. The phone company rep said they would have someone check the line. A few days later, I answered the phone one evening. A man on the other end ask for someone by name, and I said he must have the wrong number. He then started to laugh, and save us a lot of noise in the background. He said that maybe we had our “lines crossed.” Of course, no one could possibly have known about that conversation unless our phone has been tapped. Over and over, the types of things the organized stalkers do reveal what seek and sordid individuals they are. He sounded like a grown man, but it seemed like a junior high school prank."
from "My Life Changed Forever: The Years I Have Lost as a Target of Organized Stalking" by Elizabeth Sullivan
Next: #3 https://ell-ochka.livejournal.com/184557.html