by Richard L. Thornton, Architect and City Planner
Native American history is America’s history. That is a common belief of descendants of the great Creek Confederacy on both sides of the Mississippi River. We believe that our ancient towns should be provided the same legal protection, scientific study and public access as such places as Jamestown, Plymouth Plantation and the Gettysburg Battlefield.
Unfortunately, over the past three decades, Native American historic preservationists have repeatedly encountered bizarre situations in which government agencies or employees espoused support for the objectives, stated above, but are actually operating on a hidden agenda that is quite the opposite.
Prior to the December 2005, the only Oklahoma Creeks I had ever met, were third cousins in Henrietta and Broken Arrow, who were citizens of the MCN, plus six members of the Muscogee-Creek National Council, who came up to my booth at the Ocmulgee Southeastern American Indian Festival just as I was helping Professor Charles Hudson make a fool of himself in front of his graduate students. I was selling my book on the architectural and planning analysis of what was then called Ocmulgee National Monument. Impressed that I knew more about the subject, than the darling of New Age newspaper reporters, they asked me to devote five years of my career to researching the cultural heritage of the Creek People. They also promised to try getting me enrolled in the MCN. That didn’t happen.
On December 13, 2005, the delegation from the Muscogee-Creek Nation of Oklahoma arrived at a motel in Jasper, GA in order to transport a large model of the Creek town of Ichese back to Ocmulgee, OK and tour Creek heritage sites in northern Georgia. The delegation was led by Judge Patrick Moore . . . considered one of the most respected Native American attorneys in the nation.
The Oklahomans also had another, covert mission. A criminal ring was digging up Native American graves in northern Georgia and selling both human remains and artifacts at flea markets with impunity. They were also selling Native American skulls to satanic cults. Police raids had turned up Creek skulls at several homes of drug dealers . . . although the owners labeled them “Cherokee.” Creek and Cherokee skulls are quite different in shape. You see, the Creek Light Horse Police had jurisdiction anywhere in the United States to enforce federal laws.
Susan had arrived after sunset at my home by taxi on the night of the 12th. She was to spend three weeks with me. That was the longest that we were together during 15 years of knowing each other. As always, she insisted that our 14 ½ year relationship be kept a secret. When the Muscogee-Creek delegation visited my home on the 14th, she remained cloistered behind a locked master bedroom door. I would later learn that there was another problem, Judge Moore and the MCN Justice Department personnel knew Susan, but by another name.
Yes, for those of you who have read The Shenandoah Chronicles . . . that’s the same Susan, who anointed me with olive oil from Israel in June 1991, while we were standing in the middle of my Shenandoah Valley pasture. She is also the same Susan, who along with me, faked a fake affair later that summer at the Wayside Inn in Middletown, VA. Guess neither one of us were good at keeping things transient and meaningless. LOL Life can be stranger than fiction.
Something odd happened, when the Oklahoma Creeks came to my door. The Assistant Director of the Creek Lighthorse Police refused to shake my hand. He looked at me like I was some depraved criminal. We will explain in a jiffy.
Soon after entering my home, the delegation followed me downstairs to view the Ichese model. Their eyes gleamed with delight. They were particularly amazed how I applied multiple layers of tinted, liquid, acrylic plastic to create the realistic appearance of the Ocmulgee River.
When back upstairs, Judge McCormick asked me if I was interested in building a massive 6 ft. x 8 ft. model of Etowah Mounds. Of course, I said yes! He asked the cost. I told him. He said yes.
Judge Moore then said that it was the custom of the Creek People to cement an oral contract with the exchange of gifts. I responded that I remember my grandparents practicing the same tradition of starting each business arrangement with a gift. I offered the judge a reproduction that I had hand-made of a Maya chocolate drinking cup.
The judge presented me a woman’s apron with the MCN seal on it, a ceramic turtle necklace and a set of Creek animal figurines . . . like what women put on their knickknack shelves in the living room.
I then told the Creek brothers that my mother, sister and niece would adore these gifts. The Oklahomans looked confused and said the gifts were for me. Then I was confused.
As soon as they left, I gave their gifts to Susan . . . who looked quite sexy in a Creek apron and proud of something that symbolized her efforts for Etowah Mounds!
She had to hide in my bedroom again, when the Oklahoma Creeks came by on December 15th to pick up the model . . . although, she was severely tempted to make an appearance au natural + the apron. in order to ask the men, if this is what they think a man looks like? LOL
We were eventually able to determine that the grave-robbing gang was composed of county and state employees. No wonder, the Georgia law enforcement agencies were ignoring them. Soon, the family of the kingpin of the gang came down with a fatal illness. Doctors could not identify what pathogen was quickly killing his wife and children.
A friend of the grave robber tipped off the ringleader that some Creek Injuns had been in Jasper and asking around about the skulls being sold at flea markets. Maybe the Injuns put a curse on him? In desperation, the ringleader dumped all of the bones and artifacts in his storage barn into Carters Lake. His wife and family quickly recovered. Yes, this really happened.
One of the MCN Justice Dept. attorneys later told me that the Georgia Bureau of Investigation had telephoned them to urge them not to do business with me because “he is a queer pervert, who has served two prison terms, possibly a serial killer and definitely has AIDs.” The attorney looked me up on the federal CIS and found that I had no criminal record and in fact had been an intelligence asset for the US Dept. of Justice in a case involving crooked state cops in Virginia. They advised Judge Moore that I was not dangerous and that there was no record of me having AIDS.
When I heard this on the phone, I started laughing uncontrollably. Georgia cops had been recording my phone calls since the moment I moved into a townhouse in Cartersville. By now they had thousands of hours of conversations between me and women. Are these guys at the GBI smoking wacky weed or sampling the drugs they seize in raids?
Susan helps stop the desecration of Etowah Mounds
Susan was transferred to the FBI Counter-Intelligence division and Southeastern Regional Office in December 1991. From then on, she could never discuss with me cases that she was working on.
She reconnected with me after I moved to the Atlanta Area in 1993. I never knew where she lived. She first began rendezvousing with me on the pathway system in Peachtree City then suggested that I begin attending Roswell United Methodist Church in North Metro Atlanta. Roswell had 8,000+ members and 1200 single adults attending Sunday School classes. We easily could blend in with the herd and not be noticed. We would go to lunch after church with other singles then leave separately from the restaurant to rendezvous at an FBI safe house in a Roswell area gated townhouse community.
Between 1996 and late 1999, I lived in Cartersville near Etowah Mounds. While Susan and I were visiting Etowah Mounds in 1998, the Creek site manager told us of secret plans to give the National Historic Landmark to a prominent Republican donor. He was going to bulldoze the existing museum and construct a Museum of Cherokee History, named after himself.
Around the fortifications of Etowah, the man planned to build INSIDE THE ETOWAH RIVER flood plain a gated subdivision for millionaires, an exclusive golf course and a Cherokee gambling casino. Construction inside the flood plain was quite illegal. However, anyone in the Cartersville or Bartow County governments, who opposed the project was fired. The project had been approved in writing by the governor. The only thing stopping the project were employees within the Clinton Administration, who refused to look the other way, if the flood plain was violated.
Beginning in 1998, I got on the internet, which then primarily consisted of message boards and free dating websites. For both men and women, it was a dating paradise. Susan assumed the identities of other women to contact me on the dating websites. She would even dye her hair to match the fake photograph on the dating ad. She also encouraged me to date other women, when she was unavailable. That way, no Georgia cop, monitoring my phone, would guess that I actually was in a serious, long-term relationship with a member of the Justice Department elite.
While living temporarily in Rome, GA to design a big downtown project, I was contacted by a Creek lady, who was an investigator for the Georgia Department of Family and Children Services. Federal agents had busted a satanic cult in Rome, which specialized in selling young children from low-income Black families in the Rome Area to wealthy occultists in the Atlanta Metro Area and other parts of the nation. Most of the children were never seen again. The federal agents had found 24 pictures of me!
One of the women arrested explained that they had been instructed to follow me around because I was an enemy of Satan. However, their main concern was a prophecy that one of my children would become an even greater enemy of Satan. That is why moles for the occult within the GBI were expending so much time and energy in trying to keep me from being with a woman, who was fertile. They had tried to force me to marry a rightwing Republican, who could not have children, but I was not cooperating.
I told the lady that I would believe anything she told me about Rome, GA. When I first moved there a high school teacher had invited me to a strange private night club, filled with quite normal looking upper and upper middle class people. HOWEVER, sitting at the table next to the entrance was a GBI agent and a lovely young lady in her mid-20s . . . who looked very much like my girlfriend 30 years earlier in Mexico City. The GBI agent told me that indeed, she was Alicia’s daughter and that she could be mine, if I joined their “group” and pledged my soul to Satan. Yes, this really happened.
I passed on this information to Susan, when we were hiking on the Appalachian Trail. She said that she already knew about this danger and that was why she was keeping our daughter hidden from public eye. It was too dangerous for her to even discuss our daughter on the phone or in my house.
After I moved to Jasper, GA in June 2000, we went on a one-week honeymoon in Mexico City, disguised as newlyweds Richard and Susan Miller. She was following Al Quaida terrorists. Susan asked me to pose for a photo in the chapel of Roswell Methodist. Talented artists turned that photo into a wedding photo – complete with preacher, maids of honor and groomsmen. We also had use of fake passports and fake wedding gifts. Susan intentionally conceived our second child while in Mexico City.
In September 2000, state and local cops began calling up women I was about to date and tell them that I was a serial killer. Their first victim was a woman I had known for years in Cartersville, who was now divorced. She knew that the cops were lying. They even sat at another table at the restaurant, where we were eating. She pointed them out to me.
Complaining to their bosses did absolutely no good . . . the response was for a state highway patrolman stopping me for no reason other than to tell me that all my problems would stop, if I joined the Republican Party.
Susan was soon called with the same message that I was a serial killer. Actually, they thought they were calling one of her fake identities. Susan then intentionally posted a fake profile, representing herself as a rabid rightwing extremist. No one called her.
Two weeks after George Bush was inaugurated President of the US, the Asst. US District Attorney in Knoxville, who was my contact with the Federal Witness Protection Program was fired and not replaced. Very quickly, witnesses in our case began to be murdered by professional hit men and women. America was changing for the worse.
Employees of the US Department of the Interior and US Army Corps of Engineers, who opposed the Etowah Mounds Millionaire’s Village were fired. The developer of this abomination was one of the largest individual donors to the Bush Presidential Campaign. The people involved in this project were clearly occult. They were all gay males, who wore Prince Albert beards, identical expensive suits and drove black Mercedes SUVs. Word around Cartersville was that this abomination was a “done deal.”
Susan assumed yet another identity and probably, disguise. She contacted leaders of the Muscogee Creek Nation to tell them that if they didn’t stop the Etowah Mounds, nobody would. I don’t know what they did or what Susan did further, but they stopped the “done deal.”
Susan proposed to me on Christmas Eve that December of 2005. The proposition was that she could retire in early July at age 40 because of her dangerous job. She told me that she had saved up more money than I could imagine. She wanted us to drive around North America with our two kids and my two dogs all summer in my new Ford Explorer. If we got along under those circumstances, we would probably have a marriage that would last forever.
Susan (or whatever her name was) disappeared in June 2006. I never knew what happened to her or her real name. I never saw our two kids. I strongly suspect that her role in stopping the desecration of Etowah Mounds was what put a bounty on her head.
Ten years after the staff of the Muscogee Creek Nation stopped the Millionaires Village at Etowah Mounds, newly elected Principal Chief, George Tiger, fired everyone involved in the successful effort . . . including Judge Patrick Moore. However, Tiger, himself ended up being fired . . . when he was convicted of bribery to obtain federal funds and sentenced to a year in federal prison.
The Americas Revealed 
Yeah, I know the trouble with groups like Apple country Today and people claiming I was a perv, had AIDs, and was in prison. The latter were bitter because I was a witness against their brother, a child molester who had owned an interest in a bordello that specialized in little kids in S. Vietnam, and in Panama. I laughed till I got a belly ache. Then told cousins what do Africans call AIDS? The skinny disease. I go 250 lbs. I have commendations from police for helping them and counselling juvie delinquents. No prison time, but I used to go to prisons to council there, as well, and have letters of commendation from guards and one warden. On prison, American Indians in Penna, a very lib state, say One son to Penn State, the other to the state pen. Hawa! I am the Bear of the House of Dog! Old-Father avenge you.
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