The Chair
When I first learned the chair was real I began to understand why I was having dreams and memories of these different places, all in some way connected to troops fighting in different countries.
The dreams following this story are placed out of sequence to bring focus to this point. I now realize they were not dreams without connection to my life, as I erringly thought at the time they occurred. They were snapshots of people and places I saw while in the chair. I realize this is a difficult concept for most to understand, but this is only because the standard world view does not encompass events which created this aspect of my life. Until one has an experience of this nature, how can they understand it’s possibility to be real?
The chair will be a very difficult concept for many to comprehend for it’s existence is not common knowledge and therefore will not seem believable. For the record it is called the Montauk Chair and is located on the Montauk Base at the tip of the South Fork peninsula on the west end of Long Island, New York.
It is relatively easy to obtain information on The Montauk Project, including the well known Philadelphia Experiment with which it is directly connected. It is my opinion this was at least one of the rooms where I was kept for an undetermined length of time on several occasions during my early childhood. This is based on the memory I have of being in the Montauk Chair, and so it follows I would have been kept in close proximity to where the experiments took place.
The Montauk Project began in the 1950s and there are some that say the experiments continue, even though it was supposedly shut down in the 1980s. Patrick and I talked with CIA agent Mark Smith* about my experiences some years ago. He explained to us the chair in the movie The Matrix was built to resemble the Montauk Chair, and many things about the movie were based on classified information. He said this could happen because people would never accept the reality of such things, it would be only a fictional story to the majority of people seeing the movie, and so there was no danger of people questioning its connection with reality. ‘Hide the truth in plain sight and most will never notice.’
In the dream there is a small girl sitting in an unusual chair. This chair was in a room with windows all around, it was like being in a glass cube. I know the girl is me, but it is all so strange and I don’t understand what I am watching as I dream. There is something like a large needle attached to the base of my spine as well as my neck at the base of the skull (it hurts to move). Also there is a cap type device that comes down over my head and there are straps holding my arms and legs in place. It is important I do not move. I was about three or four years of age and am clearly frightened. The next time I had a memory of being in this chair I was about five years old. It was during this time that I saw the man on the other side of the glass. He was John F Kennedy, the President of the United States.
There was a sudden zap of electricity going through my upper left arm into my heart, and then across my chest, meeting with the one coming from my right arm. This also goes up the arm into the neck forming a triangle, it is quite painful.
There is an adult version of myself in my head who is alerted to the danger the child is in. She can hear her calling for them to quit hurting her, “Please, pleeease, Stop!” When she tries to help she (the adult version) is raised off her feet and rendered helpless.
Seen through my eyes while in the chair are two men. One is Albert Einstein but I am not sure who the other man is. I can see my reflection on the glass window which the men are standing behind. I believe Einstein was brought to see me because this machine proved that time travel could happen. I doubt though that this was what he expected to see. Neither he nor Kennedy looked happy with what they were seeing through the glass as they stared at me, on their faces shock clearly expressed.
When I wrote this journal entry I always mentioned myself as ‘the girl’ which I have now changed to reflect my understanding that I was that girl. At the time I was very uncomfortable about this dream and had a difficult time accepting I was seeing myself, but because I was feeling the pain of the girl in the chair as if it was my own, I knew in my heart I was seeing myself. I think it will be a very difficult situation to understand for most people.*
I dreamt of being in The Chair before the movie The Matrix was released in 1999, in which the chair bears an eerie resemblance. I was not influenced by the movie as this knowledge was part of my locked away memory. This is important to mention because while watching the movie I began to experience that internal freezing-up as panic set in. Aside from the unusual nature of the story, something we were not used to seeing, everything about me went quiet inside as I watched the scene when Neo first sat in the chair that transported his consciousness into an alternate reality. That physical chair was so much like the one in my dream, making an unrealistic situation suddenly believable. ‘The chair was real’ was all I could think, and it was difficult to pay further attention to the movie. The main difference was the Montauk Chair did not have such large metal probes, nor did I have the metal plates covering the holes made to receive them.
What went into my body were more like fine needles, which were inserted into the spine at the base of my skull and another at my tailbone. I was strapped down to the chair to ensure I couldn’t move or harm myself, or disturb the outcome of the experiment. It was an extremely frightening process I was forced to endure without being able to understand the reasons why. Given my uncertainty regarding my actual date of birth, my educated guess is I was a child between the ages of three to seven at the time of these experiments, the last one being the burial of my father.**
While in this form of detention I remember meeting both John F Kennedy and Albert Einstein, although they were not allowed to come into the room with the chair. We observed each other through the glass walls surrounding the chair and equipment. Of course this sounds like a sci-fi movie and I realize there are few who will see the truth in what I am saying, but as I have already made clear I am not concerned with what others believe or don’t believe about my story; it will not change what I feel inside about the events I am describing. Truth is often stranger than fiction.
May 29, 2018
I had a rather sad and disturbing thought this morning which came to me after reading a note from Lucas. I’m not sure exactly what triggered this idea in my mind but now that it’s there I’m afraid it makes perfect sense.
I talked to Patrick about it this evening, bringing up the idea while we were out for a walk. Sometimes talking about these ideas that pop into my head help me figure out if they make any sense, or are just silly notions better left forgotten. It is the act of speaking it out loud which seems to make the idea plausible. Tonight it made more sense as we discussed it in depth.
It is a sad thing, really, to understand this idea could have merit and that I could have been responsible for revealing my fathers position to the CIA while being in The Chair. The idea came in like a whisper and I am bothered by the fact it has now become a roar. How can one ever ask forgiveness for such an act of betrayal? This could very well be the reason I shut down, locking away any recollection of my parents and all that would have been associated with them.
When I had the memory of being in the chair, I could not really understand why I would have been selected for the experiment. Why would they choose me, unless of course they knew I was the daughter of the elusive Che. I believe in my heart they would have done pretty much anything to find, interrogate and torture him because of his revolutionary ideals and his connection with Fidel Castro.
The chair was used to travel in time (similar to remote viewing), or at least that was one of it’s purposes. It is hard for me to piece together what would have happened and when, but using this device in an attempt to keep tabs on my father makes sense. This also explains why I had the dreams about the different parts of the world where he fought, and why I have memories of some of what happened there. Those dreams make sense to me now, knowing they were events I actually witnessed while in the chair. Unfortunately this does not give me comfort, but there is now understanding, also vitally important.
When Che returned to Cuba, making plans to enter Bolivia, it became essential to some interests to stop him, and that was when they began to use me once again to try to locate him….and this time make sure he did not survive. Who better to locate the man than his daughter who would have had an intimate connection to him, which was what they needed.
JFK would have had knowledge of the initial experiment which would have occurred close to the time he was assassinated, if my calculations are correct based on my age at the time I saw him while I was in the chair. However, I believe JFK was not happy with the program once he saw me and realized they were using a child to do this work. By the look on his face I have to believe this did not sit well with him, and in the end he refused to go along with the plan. I am also left to wonder if his refusal was one of the reasons that contributed to his death.
To their purpose it was also fitting I watch my fathers make shift burial so I would understand the full consequence of my betrayal and carry that guilt for the rest of my life. I imagine they hoped this would be instrumental in my programming, ensuring a complete lockdown of the memories associated with this horrible event.
I now wonder if my father could have known I was being used in this way in order to betray him. If so, I take a bit of comfort in the knowledge his continued visits to me in my dreams were to ensure I would not hold myself responsible for the acts of such black-hearted men of devious intent. It was important for me to know I was in his heart and was loved. His spiritual presence and the love we shared during those visits gave me strength to keep going.
Ciro Busto was the one publicly accused of this betrayal, although he attempted to clear his name with the publishing of his book, “Che Wants to See You.”
*Name has been changed to protect his identity **see The Burial, Chapter VI, page 202
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