by Richard L. Thornton, Architect and City Planner
Judge Allen Wigington, seven weeks earlier in 2009, had approved an illegal foreclosure on my home. The Mississippi Dixie-Mafia company that filed the foreclosure, did not own my mortgage and was not licensed to do business in Georgia. I was supposed to close on a FannieMae mitigation loan in mid-January 2010. The other crimes committed against me by Wigington and an investigator for the Pickens County, GA district attorney’s office, lasted from 2000 to 2009. I could never get justice, but this slime bag has gotten a 15-year sentence, after being convicted of 44 felonies and 5 misdemeanors . . . involving misappropriation of public funds. The DA investigator is in Hell. I am satisfied.
I am not so ignorant of the operational secrets of law enforcement agencies as Georgia gendarmes delude themselves into thinking. As a direct result of the work that FBI Covert Agent Susan Karlson and I did together in the early 1990s, plus her top-secret report . . . which I never saw . . . the Commonwealth of Virginia abolished the Virginia Bureau of Investigation and created a new investigative division within the Virginia State Police.
*Susan Karlson is a pseudonym. She did have a Swedish name. Both her grandparents and parents were born in a Swedish-speaking part of Finland that was captured by the Soviets during World War II.
Earlier this week, I was tipped off by a Homeland Security agent, meeting me at a Tractor Supply Store** that a Neo-Satanic seditionist group here in Habersham County, GA planned to steal my computer and key books then torch my home this weekend. The purpose was that I would be homeless and helpless, when a planned insurrection occurred. Most of my neighbors were collaborating with them . . . for money . . . as usual. I stayed at home. The arsonist parked his pickup on a dirt road behind my property. The bad guys came and went. These good, Christian neighbors didn’t get their money, so I guess they are mad at me now. It is strange, but I have found both in Virginia and Georgia, that liars and traitors always view themselves as victims.
**The Homeland Security agent and I were meeting at Betty’s Supermarket in Helen, GA, where she would blend in with the tourists. We had to start rotating to other locations, because City of Helen Police or state police were following me into the store, whenever I shopped there. I gave her the names of all people, who had tried to lure me away from the house this past weekend.
We turn the clock back
It is June 2000. I had been on the Federal Witness Protection Program for seven years . . . with no incidents. Between December 1992 and August 1994, two federal agents, three honest deputies and three witnesses, who did not participate in the program or stayed in the Shenandoah Valley, had either been murdered or died under suspicious circumstances. Major witnesses, who changed their identity, were clustered around Knoxville, TN. The Assistant US District Attorney, who was our handler, was based in Knoxville. Those of us, who were “minor” witnesses or licensed professionals, who did not want to change our names were clustered around Atlanta, Charlotte and Nashville. Initially, my handler called me monthly, but by 2000, was only calling me three or four times a year.
That day in June, I was on a minor state highway that paralleled Lookout Mountain near Lafayette, GA. I was working on the restoration of the 165-year-old Chattooga Academy in Lafayette and returning to my rental house in Rome, GA. I would be moving in a week, 52 miles eastward to Jasper, GA where I had bought a house with a Talking Rock, GA mailing address. Out of nowhere, Susan Karlson appeared in her white Volvo, honking furiously, blinking her blue law enforcement lights and signaling with her hand for me to pull over to the emergency lane.
Susan rushed back to my door and blurted, “You are not dating Anne anymore?” I responded, “Yep, she dumped me, when she found out that I was moving to Jasper.”
Susan poked her head through my window and planted a big kiss. “How about . . . my treat . . . a big steak dinner and room tonight at the Chattanooga Choo Choo Hotel? I have always wanted to go on a train ride with you!” (The hotel rooms at the Choo-Choo are renovated railroad cars.)
I laughed, “Susan, I have been unable to say no to you since June of 1991!”
Susan at my home in Jasper, GA – Christmas 2004
Remember Susan-the-FBI-Agent-with-Benefits in my Christmastime E-book, The French Courtesan, Who Came In from the Cold? By that time, Susan and I had been in a secret love relationship for nine years. In December 1991, Susan was transferred to Georgia to work on the other end of the drug pipeline that we had help bust in Virginia. From that month until June 2005, when Susan disappeared overseas?, I never knew which federal agency she worked for or specifically where she lived. From time to time, she would seem to appear out of nowhere to be with me for a day or two or maybe have lunch with me, while I was driving in another state. She stayed with me longer periods at Christmas and our birthdays. I am 99% sure that she had at least two children with me, but she never discussed them.
I had suddenly disappeared from Virginia in April 1993, but Susan was able to track me down by June. I had no telephone number as long as I stayed at my parent’s house, but Susan quickly found where I had obtained two gas credit cards and a new checking account in my name in Georgia. Well, she WAS an expert investigator for the FBI! LOL
Apparently, at that time, she lived or worked rather close to my parents’ house in South Metro Atlanta. However, she did not trust my step-father at all, so made first contact with me, while I was riding my bike on the Peachtree City Path System (which I had designed). As long as I was with my parents, we would rendezvous in Peachtree City.
For years, Susan had tried to find Vivi the French Courtesan, the third member of our secret marriage. In 1999, while on a mission in France, Susan was able to get very close to Vivi, but was not allowed to make her presence known. Susan told me that a man was living with Vivi and Vivi had several children of varying ages – none of whom looked like her live-in partner. We decided that it was best to leave Vivi alone.
Susan wouldn’t visit me at my rental house in Rome, GA because she thought that both the local and state police were quite corrupt there. (True) She promised that she would be a frequent guest at my house in Jasper, though. She asked me to date as many other women as possible, so no one would think much of her being at my house. Susan didn’t expect this, but Susan was the only woman, who ate breakfast with me . . . if you get my gist.
Susan drove the same white Volvo from 1993 until 2005.
It was the golden era of the Internet Personals. All were free. The best ones were Excite! and Yahoo. I could have had a date every night, if I had wanted. I had little time to watch TV, because there were so many women from around the world writing me.
That approach was working fine, until September 2000. Women, I dated, started complaining that Pickens County, GA deputies and Georgia Bureau of Investigation agents were calling them to say that I was a serial killer. They knew that the Jawja cops were lying, but most cut off contact, because they did not want strangers listening to their private phone calls.
THEN, Susan called me from the Atlanta Airport to see if it was alright for her to spend a couple of nights there at my house. I, of course, said yes. However, before her taxi even reached Downtown Atlanta, a Georgia Bureau of Investigation (GBI) agent called on her secure cellular phone. He said that I had served two terms in prison for violent felonies, had been determined to be a schizophrenic and was suspected of murdering several women. He urged her not to make any contact with me. Of course, he did not realize that he was calling a federal government phone and that we had been lovers for nine years! LOL
Susan called the Assistant US District Attorney in Knoxville to complain. She said that he was quite amused that two people, who had started out in June 1991, faking an affair . . . then faking, faking an affair . . . in order to catch crooked cops . . . were in the ninth year of what was obviously deep love. He told her not to worry about it. He then called me and said that it was better for him to not make waves, because obviously these Georgia cops didn’t know I was a federal witness. Surely, they wouldn’t be so stupid. Him getting involved would instantly expose the other witnesses.
George ended the call by saying that if Susan was as pretty as the lady on his computer screen, maybe I should persuade her to marry me. We obviously got along well. That would end the game being played by Georgia cops.
On many occasions during that decade state law enforcement showed up at restaurants, where I was on date then either stood or sat beside us. It became much more difficult for me to get a date. By the way, it is not a normal function of law enforcement to chaperone dates by law-abiding adults.
Susan got permission to investigate the call on her secure phone on the basis of national security. She called me again, with a call tracing machine attached. This time it was a Pickens County Sheriff’s Deputy, who was in charge of computer crimes and telephone surveillance – Wigington!
The first surprise came within days. About 200 yards from my house was a plain metal building with no sign. Quite a few cars parked there everyday, but no one knew what they did. Susan first showed me several Bundswehr decals on the cars. That’s the German name for the Federal Republic of Germany’s army. However, many other people there were from Eastern European countries that 10 years before had been Communist. They all spoke perfect English in public.
Susan asked me to join her as we followed them to lunch. They all ate like Susan’s Swedish grandparents . . . with a knife in the left hand and fork in the right hand. They were all Europeans, carrying passports from foreign countries. Many telephone line ran into the building, but Susan could never find out, what they were doing in Jasper, GA!
Further research revealed that Wigington was in cahoots with a retired Marine, who worked as a part-time investigator for the local District Attorney, plus he answered phones on weekends and holidays at the FBI’s regional headquarters in Lawrenceville, GA. He used his FBI cellular phone to threaten wealthy Democratic donors. He would pretend to be an actual FBI agent. He was busted by the DOJ Office of the Inspector General in December 2002. However, instead of him going to prison, the Bush Whitehouse ordered the case dropped and the DOJ OIG agent was transferred to an Indian reservation in North Dakota during the wintertime.
The former Marine was developing a list of all Democrats and “Libruls” in Pickens County. The two of them were then targeting the people on the list for surveillance . . . trying to find any crimes that they might be charged with. I intentionally stayed as non-partisan as possible, but the Marine assumed that I was a Marxist because I had worked in Sweden for a few months after graduating from Georgia Tech. He was clearly a spy for the Nazi’s, who booted all almost all the moderate Republican and Democratic leaders in North Georgia in 2000
From her remote vantage point, Susan was unable to determine if Deputy Allen Wigington was being paid to monitor my internet and phone activities. She did notice that he had lifestyle and home far above what one could afford as a young deputy. He hung around a group of people in his neighborhood, who had made themselves the “golf course elite” in the small mountain town. In any larger community, they would have been nobodies.
Federal “War on Drugs” grants had made it possible to create secret telephone terminal facilities in privately owned buildings within each of the congressional districts in northern Georgia. The building near me was possibly one of them – but why foreigners? Law enforcement officers could listen to any telephone line in their region without a warrant. Wigington’s Sheriff’s Department computer was also plugged into this secret terminal system. The one for NW Georgia was in a plant making rugs in Sugar Valley, GA. The one in NE Georgia was in a chicken processing plant in Gainesville, GA.
Through means that she could not divulge to me, she did determine that Wiginhton was trying to ingratiate himself with the Nazi’s and organize crime oligarchs, who were then taking over North Georgia. He was elected a magistrate in 2008 at the beginning of the Great Recession. In 2011, he was appointed Chief Magistrate Judge of Pickens County, GA by the Chief District Court judge. Once no longer able to snoop on honest citizens with a sheriff’s department computer, he was also no longer getting outside income. Apparently, his dipping into the till too often had made him a liability by 2019, when he was first arrested.
Also in September 2000, the Moderate Republican head of the Pickens County Republican Party died in a one car crash on a mountain road, when his brakes suddenly failed. The following week, the 38-year-old female attorney, who headed the county Democrats had a massive stroke after leaving a restaurant, where she had chaired a meeting of the Democrats. Until 2000, a slight majority of elected officials in the county were Democrats. After 2000 there were no Democratic elected officials in the county, even the state legislators were changed. Democrats in the country were afraid to even hold a public meeting for three years after their chairwoman’s stroke. The whole county knew that it was a case of attempted murder.
Susan and I did not realize something terrible, until it was unfixable. Wigington had gotten the name of my handler in the Witness Protection Program and the names/locations of several witnesses. Two weeks after George W. Bush was inaugurate president, the new US District attorney, appointed by Bush, fired the Assistant District Attorney, who was the handler for protected witnesses. He was not replaced.
George continued to call me periodically until he found another job. He was worried. One by one, the witnesses were being murdered. Fortunately, he described in detail the couple from Sao Paolo, Brazil who murdered Tim Conner’s parents. They eventually got all the cash balance of my credit card at a bank in Sao Paulo then came after me. I then came after them and they fled the country wounded and in terror. Susan was convinced that someone high up in the CIA, Whitehouse or Department of Defense was hiring the assassins.
During 2004, some of my dates also were contacted by soldiers based a Fort Gordon, GA, which is the home of the US Army Signal Corps. The young lieutenants and non-coms would tell women much older than them that they should not date me, because “he does not believe in war.” Some even asked the older women out for dates.
Also in 2004 – Tragically, four intelligence officers at Fort Hood, Texas caused the murder of a totally non-political friend of mine, who was an English archaeologist, working in the Amazon Basin of eastern Peru. She was one of the first people to discover the amazing geometric earthworks there and was sending me photos and videos via a satellite uplink.
The rogue officers sent emails to the Peruvian army stating that my friend was an agent for the Shining Path Maoist guerillas in Peru and that I was a known freedom fighter. That’s right. A freedom fighter used to be a compliment – someone who fought for the American democratic way of life – but not to these fascists. I confess to being a freedom fighter . . . at least with my computer keyboard. Lisa’s body was found on a garbage dump outside a regional capital in eastern Peru. Her friends told me that she had obviously been brutally tortured before being shot in the head.
Georgia State law enforcement steadily increased their harassment of me throughout that decade. When Wigington informed his real bosses that I was going on a vacation or to a professional conference out of state, Georgia “law enforcement” contacted the other state’s law enforcement and painted me as a dangerous criminal. For example, when I went to a conference at Middle Tennessee State University, the Pickens County Sheriff’s Dept. (probably Wigington) called up the Tennessee State Police to tell them that I was a big “pot” dealer. I did make traditional hand-made Creek and Maya ceramics. The GBI called them up and said that I was a known predator of college coeds.
Despite the fact that Susan rendezvoused with me there and stayed in my motel room, young women constantly came up to me and said things that normally would only be said in a bar. I know all the details because a very irate Tennessee State Police lieutenant came up to me at the end of the conference. He said that he had wasted over $10,000 of his budget on overtime and wannabe actresses, working as decoys, because of the lies told him by crooked Georgia cops.
Susan disappeared in June 2005. Turning 40 that month, she had planned to retire from her stressful, but glamorous job and move in with me in late June. I never could figure out what happened overseas. The FBI had no record of her being an employee after November 1991. However, the FBI does have covert personal, who are invisible on the computer files to almost any employees, except those with the highest security clearance. However, I never could find an obituary of her anywhere in the United States.
A little over an hour after I was officially homeless five years later . . . I had just bought groceries at the Ingles Supermarket in Murphy, NC . . . just over the Georgia Line. A North Carolina state trooper drove his patrol car up to me in the parking lot, rolled down the window, grinned and said, “Boy, we’re gonna tetch you respect for arthority.“
Clearly, what Judge Wigginton did to me in late 2009 was no fluke, but the direct result of conspiracy between many people, who shouldn’t be wearing badges or receiving a penny of taxpayers money. He who laughs last, laughs best.
My “homeless” campsite in 2010 – near the Track Rock Archaeological Zone
One possible explanation for Susan’s disappearance
In December 2020, Haim Eshed, the head of Israel’s Space Security Office for 30 years, published a book, which described direct contacts with extraterrestrials beginning shortly before he was hired. His book has several details that tie in directly with strange experiences in my life over the past 30 years.
(1) First contact was made in December 1990 – That’s when I saved Vivi the Courtesan’s life. She was about to commit suicide because she had been given “suicide pills” by a doctor, working for the French government. Vivi became a Christian that night and I baptized her with the waters of Toms Brook on my farm the following Wednesday.
(2) Extensive negotiations occurred near Washington, DC in the summer of 1991 – That’s when thousands of people saw UFOS over the Shenandoah Valley night time sky and I began the fake affair with Susan Karlson.
(3) A delegation of specially selected humans was transported to an underground facility on Mars in the early summer of 2005 to begin living with extraterrestrials and learning their advanced knowledge – That is when Susan Karlson disappeared without a trace.
Life is indeed stranger than fiction!