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“Twitter Donald Trump and Kanye West for Help, Please!”

By Lawrence Yudowitz

Copyrighted 2018

The author gives this complete work to the public domain, so the public may freely copy and distribute it in any form without the author’s written consent.







































This writing is given by the author to the public domain; Anyone may for any reason duplicate it and sell it anywhere in any form without his written consent.

Firstly, let me apologize to the reader for writing with the skills of novice, please forgive me because writing about the traumas is very difficult to relive and so I have not gone through the trouble to edit again. I have put several writings together to save time. It is accurate and just as it happened. For a moment let me say something about the night my grandfather died, for him. My father ran to New York just before I had telephoned my grandfather and he was happy to hear from me, but someone took the phone from him and hung up, so I went to investigate at my parents’ house where they left him. He was in a wheelchair leaving the house and being put into an ambulance, he was perfectly fine, but he couldn’t talk to me because he wore an oxygen mask. I followed him to the hospital and spent four hours with him, and I still could not talk to him because his mask was on, so I just held his hand. Later my father said there was a no resuscitation order enforced so why was there an oxygen mask on him? My father said after that his father had told him he would die that weekend, so why had my father ‘ran’ to New York and not told me to stay with him? I believe he may have been euthanized.

No one expected me to survive the attempts on my life. Not only did my family admit and confirm exactly what the assassins knew at the times of my assassination but that during the attempts on my life I called my family for help and literally my mom said she’d only “think about it”, and another attempt she said I “have nothing to do with that”. And a different attempt or two my father said to me “you are very brave” with a snarl. The people who tried to kill me in Baguio at the hospital included the Americans in Cebu who came to the house at 26 C Imus Highway when I applied for the repatriation loan. My father had said about those people (The gray haired American agent with two local policemen) “that’s what you get for writing the letter”. That letter was one I wrote to the state department with my application for a loan ed ticket back to D.C. saying that my life was being threatened and that my father was involved, so they told my father this, even without a privacy waiver signed. In it I accused my father of hiring two other men who threatened my life in Hong Kong.

My sister, during the month before the baby and I were almost simultaneously killed, told me “that month would be the last time I spent with my girlfriend”, Mike, eight years older, my eldest sibling, said that I would be “locked up or put in a hospital if I said anything about past abuses”. In fact, after a violent attempted breaking to my apartment just before the murder of my baby my father told me to “go to a hospital” for no reason, and not the police station. In fact when I tried to apply for the repatriation loan I told my father I was going to D.C to complain about the men harassing me and my father spoke as if he were disappointed in that plan; furthermore, he tried to stop me from going back to the states to complain about them, he also increased his slander of me to the state department that his opinion of me was “severely psychotic and a master manipulator” which is pure boloney, something completely without bases, but this is exactly when those people positioned me with some very strong hallucinogen and it was no coincidence. Another of dozens of unbelievable coincidences that happen in my story was at that time of the poisoning my parents sent a letter to an old campmate whom I reached out to help because he owed me a favor. As a child he said he would do anything for me (that man five years my senior is Nathan Y. Gross and a real pedophile who asked me for a blow or “sick favor” at ten years old. My father referred to him over the phone to me while in Cebu as having taken everything away from me but in fact only my father had, and this escalated the people my father had hired to turn from stalkers to coconspirators to the murder for hire on me. My parents went on to invite him into our home but that’s history. I had asked him and my rabbi Richard Yellin of Brookline to help by calling the police for me, but they didn’t respond after speaking to my father, for unknown reason just as many others I had contacted. This story has much to explain which I hope the readers and I may form a group to discuss it and many will have a chance to formally interview me or ask for a lie detector or any test to help them believe me and act with me to stop my own assassination but also for the child murdered pain fully and the witnesses.

I sent an IP address which google security had notified me about on my Gmail dashboard as hacked or accessed from Davao city while I was in Cebu the week before my baby’s murder to Martin the computer expert brother. Martin had also adamantly told me to stay with Lesly and to ignore the threats. At the time she was apparently was paid money to kill the baby and help to kill me also; She insisted moving to a new city before telling me about that after I noticed something bothering her emotionally. A neighbor had emailed to me about seeing her sitting with a suspicious man during the week before killing the child within her, already a fully formed child. All my family did not visit as promised for the birth of the baby not one rsvp. And upon the death of my baby two checks together were sent late to me so that they could cancel the checks and not lose money upon my death. The child’s death would sufficiently erase my existence and any money or inheritances would go on to another family member, and so this motive became clearer as time went on. According to my bank statements for several years only that one month before my child’s birth there was no wire. Upon calling my father at the time my baby was killed he automatically answered the phone by saying he was terminally ill, so I called the Boston Globe to have them stop that article, that it was likely a diversion of attention from my situation. For some reason I was never given one dividend check in my name of a realty trust, and whenever I wanted to pay taxes they went ahead and did so without me without my permission. Over time my father lied to me literally hundreds of times si8nce 2009, including the time he gave a certain gift in form of a house, to which I have found out that that deal was so full of lies.

During the two weeks before the child was killed, I begged the embassy to call my dad for money, so I could take the baby to the hospital, because I caught my girlfriend trying to kill the baby. We were literally starving because someone in that group of people trying to kill me went to the loan officer who regularly gave me monthly loan. He revoked our loan the last month of her pregnancy. This group offered my girlfriend money, and “anything she wanted” to help set me up and then kill me. My girlfriend reported this with a lawyer. More of those people came again to our house just before the killing, one of the three that time said he would not shoot me and the American one asked me if it was my baby and I said sure I she was. I carried my girl her five miles to the cemetery; she looked just like me and with long red hair. I hope the public takes me seriously when I tell you all that this was a very real situation in which lives were lost in a terrible way.

Martin set me up in Macao later upon my escape form the Philippines to Macao he used his credit card, that time he asked my exact address at which point two men came on their phone watching me closely, Martin was a part of this, so were my parents and Ann was with my parents much of the time taking what she could.

I had tried to stop the abuses against myself since I was a baby. These abuses, if stopped, would have, in the long run, prevented the deaths of my child, the one or more witnesses, and nearly my own assassination Stopping the abuse in my own childhood would have by affect also stopped me from losing my home worth a million dollars, my education, friendships, health, innocence and more, but no one would dare to challenge my father and often he paid money to help people which actually made people manipulate able by him. He had the power to help promote or demote people, and much more. During our first family therapy sessions when I was very young my father yelled at me during the session not to say anything about my parents, right in front of the therapist, Onesti, who later became my mother’s psychiatrist.

I discovered the 1979 report myself that Park school has initiated after seeing my having sex with female classmates in 1st grade; they insisted my whole family to see a doctor for abuses, my father instead switched my school thus I lost all my greatest friends in life. I called Onesti immediately after seeing this report my first time and he, looking at his notes from my mom’s sessions, told me that my mom told him “everything was fine at home” during which time the abuses took place. As young as child I asked my family at dinner to give me up for adoption to which my father laughed, and my three-attempt s to run away became futile Abuse became worse after my siblings left home. The reader should know I lived alone with my parents and our neighbors were far divided from our house. I stress to the reader that my wiring of these things is not for attention nor to complain but only as a fair way to explain the entire situation of the murder for hire. When I became older at about 26 years of age my mother wrote me a letter explaining that the “real reason we never went to family therapy was because things were so bad at home”.

The toll on my mother was very bad making her space out; I also spaced out in school in my fear of returning home, but we lived alone with my father as my solder siblings were all in college when I entered high school. My siblings were cowards and thought only of my father’s money, so the abuses went on and my mother spaced out so badly that she hit cards head on up to a half mile ahead of her even with warnings from passengers in her car. I caught my father sitting my mother down in a chair and tell her she was imagining things. My father was deranged, every day with him was a new bad event. I once came home, and he would yell at me that a statue once which fell by his feet was my fault even though I was away from home; on a holiday trip with me he kicked the hotel door of its hinges and beat my head while I was in deep sleep he still thinks I was pretending to sleep. In fact, we pleaded with the doctor to give my father antipsychotics to which my father agreed to take lithium instead which he did until he said it made him worse. My brother Mike used the quote from Jon Lennon in our family therapy once about my father that “psychotics build a castle in which neurotics lived in” I pity my father, and I pity my whole family for not improving themselves. I also congratulate myself for not becoming like them, though I do blame my own mistakes in my early twenties on their influences; as I remember consciously making choices because they had done so. I had not been prepared to live on minimum wage after quitting college and I had no social nor street skills either.

Now in 2018 there is still a question of where dividend checks never given but never asked for by me went to, and, if my name was forged on documents or not, and why they never sent my tax forms or account information upon my request. As small children my parents lined us up to sign documents like we were a tax saving machines for them.

My father posed a s civil rights activist while delivering cases of illegal firecrackers in college, technically I think this made him a terrorist. As a child working in one of his father’s three managed stores, he claimed hitmen waited with a bomb to kill the executioner leaving the prison across the street, and that his mother would get mad when the lights dimmed during the executions. My father was and still is like a bully. His secret would have been kept if it wasn’t for his involvement is the simultaneous execution style murder of my child, the witness and nearly I too. He is the biggest liar and manipulator I’ve ever encountered. My other wonderful grandparents on my mother’s side were not allowed to visit us in Brookline which kept us even more secluded. He was a Harvard preeminent psychiatrist and prominent in the establishment. His position as director of psychiatry for the department of corrections gave him much more power to intimidate with. He had a long-time interest in the myths or occult and kept a witch’s book form the 1700s near my room, and I was there nearby when he invited a with friend of his from a Salem’s coven to read it over with him. A clip of his hair is entombed with the master occultist, the Jewish kabbalist Rabbi Schneerson. He and my mother are suspicious types and my mother an atheist.

The 1979 report which I have attached to this writing at the bottom was covered up until I was 18 and I still was not allowed to see it. My mother censored it down to two sentences once to show it to me. I discovered it in 2009 along with its cover letter that stated that my mother and I had an incestuous relationship. I believe that our relationship made my father and siblings all jealous. My father switched my school rather than admit there was abuse or let anyone else know it existed. I believe my father was motivated only to keep his career on track at any cost. The school knew I had to have been abused which is why they insisted my whole family go to therapy and be evaluated but6 my father would say it must be a pathological problem, my problem and not his. Though my father said he never knew of the report, they still drove me to the testing site, and my mother confided in me that she did know, but my father continued his lie. I was particularly hurt by reading in the report my mother’s comments that she complained that I didn’t want to play alone. In fact, she locked me in my room for two years one and off, during one such time I burned this photo of me used on this book’s cover I wanted to remind myself of the horrible time I was put through as a child when I later became an adult

The second school I was switched from after five years’ there; my father went to my very best friend’s house to tell him and his whole family not to be my friends anymore, and by that time my father yelled at my mother for letting me skip school and she used an anal thermometer on me against my will, though I never struggled to get away, I just did as she told me. This is important for the reader to know because it is this event that my mother accused me of lying about while I escaped death in the Philippines (and other countries between 2009 and 2018).

After that Dexter school for boys my father switched me to public which was two years below my level, as one can see according the 1979 report I was also a few years ahead in my level of learning. One holiday my brother mike hit my back from behind and my flailing arms openture’s his cheek, so I was punished two years’ school holidays all my birthday and Christmas gifts were taken and my mom with my siblings opened all my gifts to play while they told me to stay in my room; I remember them all laughing while playing with my gifts those years.

I didn’t pay attention in public school because it was a review of the material and I also feared returning home after school and a teacher called my house about my non-attention, and my father used that to blame me for having seizures or some boloney story and he even took me to go get eeg testing. In fact, just after he beat me while sleeping he also took me for a test at which time I was severely traumatized yet as usual my parents said everything was fine at home to others. In high school while I experimented drugs one week with my friend Kevin my father rushed me to take written tests which he may refer to as valid. Personally, I think my father is like a crooked politician of sorts when it comes to psychiatry.

My siblings were all at college or then west coast to get away from my father; they would not know what was going on and they would remain just as abusive as my father had been to me. My mother also abused her dog in dealing with the relations at home, which she kicked to the point her head grew like a basketball. My mother also spaced out much that even with warning from me and my friend Rosman she drove into a car 1.2 mile ahead of us until she crashed. When I needed sleep on the weekend Dad asked how I slept so I said I had a nice dream and hoped to have more nice dreams. After that time, he woke me up extra early every weekend so that I wouldn’t have nice dreams; he made that his point.

Martin and Anne while they attended college called me to move their stashes, Ann had weed in her jewelry case and vodka in her bathroom, Martin had beer in his closet, but I was caught doing so and so they took revenge by holding an intervention even though I had only smoked 1.2 ounce of weed I high school. Previously they had encouraged me to get weed from Mike, but I kept my mouth closed. I confronted my sister about this instead in a therapy session and she complained that she could get high because she did homework. I never had done my homework. I mostly sat at my desk just waiting in fear for being checked on.

My mother said she wanted us all t of do homework together, but my father insisted we stay in our rooms separately; it was like he was running some controlled psychological experiments on us. He used reverse psychology against me personally daily. Interesting was that he had made some sort of television when he was early on in his career which he kept in the attic. He even kepi an xxx-orgy film in a canister labeled “mother” amongst our family albums, something he says was a film reel from one of his first law cases, I think it was something he used to blackmail those people in it. He kept something of mine also in his safe, he literally told me when I was about 11, that he would use it against me later as an adult.

When the first attempts on my life began, I made a special trip to Boston and spoke with my father and Paul Mcsweeny, his best friend and white-collar crime detective who stands at about 6 feet four inches and weighed about 400 pounds. They both lied to my face inside my father office. On that trip home my mother called my father a liar to his face when he lied about how he found out I took out a home mortgage. Francesco the son of panama president was on his answerer machine, so were the peoples relaying information to him about what I had been doing. Benny the diplomatic security agent whom I met during the 2008b Olympics had also been on his machine; my father sponsored my visit to Taiwan to meet him. Then my father’s folder had a Cayman island account maned stressed assets fund in which I took a copy of and that I did only out of my own investigation as to why he would lie after someone tried killing me.

I loved my family as much as I could, really, through all the abuse, but their abomination was real, their coldness never dissipated, until finally they took the thing I hoped all my life for, a child to start a new family. My poor child was literally tortured with a prison while squeezed to death in a few different attempts by my girlfriend while I was there. There also was a group of killers outside, and I could not take her to the hospital without money, and then I was also limited what I could do without marital rights. I whistled to my baby when she was one month away from her own birth, she responded to my voice and every month we went to a loan company to help care for her. The loan company was across the street from a nurse who gave us our first sonogram and massaged the womb. It was this same loan company that had told me that they were notified of the trust account which is why they dropped the loan the last month of our pregnancy, and, having already that same day paid back our loan in full, while expecting the regular loan again, we were left without any money for that last month but about 100 dollars for everything because our promised check from Boston to help us was late again, and so we had to leave pour apartment and use the deposit money to eat for a week, which left us starving for 3 weeks. During those three weeks I called the embassy from Lapu Lapu police station, the same station they had told me to go to about the men trying to kill me. My father responded to my call that I had disrespected him, so I later also called my father’s office, sent a fax and every phone I could think of to save the baby’s life, He and my family had already ignored my own pleas for my own life. Martin and I talked also. Ann sent me an email telling me that it would be my last time with my girlfriend. I did everything I could with my time to seek help to survive this ordeal for me and my child.

The time I was poisoned the strongest was while standing in line at the immigration bureau for my exit visa and I ran into the embassy claiming an emergency, and to see some law enforcement officer on duty, but they refused me twice, I went back there after realizing that this poisoning was so powerful that it could lead to my death. Coincidently it was that same Friday that the duty officer I called told me that I could come in that Friday, he even said there was always a federal officer there on duty. Desperately I asked the woman behind the services window to call him and she did dial but said he was unavailable, and I asked her again when I came in the second time to which the same thing again and again\ Finally she told me that I had to leave the building. I knew I couldn’t go to the hospital because of the last two times I went, in Cebu and in Baguio, so I jumped into a taxi and I began to die, my body’s functions steadily disintegrated, my head shook, and my vision was turning on and off, and I threw up out the window. I remember at one point after driving for an hour, I believed I was about to die soon so I called my mother with my mobile, and she answer to which I only had enough energy and concentration to tell her about my will and testament to Trump, to please make sure it got to him. And she ignored me. I had never lied before. During some previous attempts on my life she yelled at me over the phone that I had lied about the anal thermometer, she had also convinced my whole family that I lied, but I had not. I struggled to keep myself coherent and on my last breath she ignored my please. I am reminded of recorded history about American soldiers yelling for their moms on the battlefield while dying, and yet my mother was born with a cold heart. I crawled my way up to my hotel room after being brought to my hotel. And my girlfriend was on the bed, two laser dots on the wall coming through the open window by the headboard and she said to herself’ finally its over”. I struggled to service using any methods I knew how, and when my breath stated failing I called the embassy officer to which for some strange reasons an ambulance parked below my window.

I am asking for anyone to lend some help in dealing with a very dangerous situation that has found me, and that is no fault of my own. I have asked 1000 people for help and they include every law, law enforcement, government, personal, humanitarian, journalistic or religious group that I thought of; I thought they exist to help people like me, but none will..

They all refused to help. Detectives said they would not help because I had a criminal record. Now I have no criminal convictions on my record, officially, but I feel I must review what once could be seen about me online. The organization trying to kill me have called me a criminal to my face during a few sit downs, so I will address that.

1. In 1992 when I left Boston to go work in Alaska, I had a ticket to get off the Ferry just one stop before the final on. The time was about 5 am and I slept through it, and upon awakening was arrested, and there was no time to buy a ticket. It is on my record today still as having a dangerous weapon which was my normal camping knife, theft of service, and obstructing perhaps because I could not readily locate my id. The case was dismissed.

2. In 2006 I was charged with uttering a forced bill, which was a check sent to me for a large order of bells that I was manufacturing, and that case was dismissed.

I did expunge some small convictions and one felony possession in Oregon which I can legally say never existed; however, I will say that string of events there started during my purchase of a small bag of marijuana before I went to the movie theatre, my partner’s foot kicked a phone machine on the floor of the dealer’s room and the tape player the whole deal back. Later we kicked in the door to collect the tapes when he wasn’t around. Good thing we did because that week in the newspaper was an article that that same drug dealer was building bombs with what the guard found seeing the open door.

Later I sublet a room to a girl who sent a package of mushroom to New York, and I was blamed and convicted for that even though I had no knowledge of that nor was there any evidence and some of my erased record had relation to the man whose door was kicked in.

I am not a criminal I am sorry for any trouble. The organization of killers has come to me several times before the actual attempts and told me that I was a criminal and would die literally. The first time this organization sat down with me was in Hong Kong 2009 just after I mortgaged my house which was a gift from my father, and I was to open a business at that time of an English school and a hotel in China; the office business name in Hong Kong was Best Score Limited. The men could be best described as short mercenary types who sat down beside me to tell me literally they were going to kill me. I had just left Boston where I also incorporated Movie English.

My father who was sponsoring my trip and I stayed in touch, so I called his telephone to let him know, and that is when I began to suspect his may have sent these people, even though as time went on it became obvious that the State Department had a hand in it somehow.

In order of me to make my plea for help, I think it wise to fairly introduce my family because they may be the biggest obstacle in dealing with this deadly situation because they have lied and manipulated people including inside the State Department. Several people, obviously working with the State Department because they implied such, came at the times during my repatriation loan or lost passport reporting, and they literally threatened me and then tried killing me in a variety of ways between 2009 and today. Obviously, my father knew all the time and his own behavior reflected it such that he didn’t want me staying at my nephews Bar Mitzvah more days as I wanted, when it was obvious I was under surveillance since my arrival at that airport (maybe it would save him money on private detectives)

Mike witnessed me having my testicles fondled sometimes but he did not attend to me. The times I was fondled lasted up to a minute and I vividly recall in color staring at the ceiling while I endured it at which times Mike came into the room. Those molesting had a very bad affect on me for many years until recently. I could not sit near anyone without feeling touched after that, nor could I swim comfortably, and anytime someone complimented my good looks, I became very hurt. The therapist said it began when I was two, and that the affect would last until I was forty. Isn’t it a coincidence that my father suddenly says that I am crazy as soon as I confront them about it, and I am poisoned at the same time?

My parents were pretty much the same, every time I was hurt, they would blame me. I was molested by their family and my school insisted on a doctor’s checkup, so I have attached that report here. They drove me to that doctor but then afterwards denied the report existed and switched my school so as not to let the school know, nor anyone knowing it was their family who molested me. I kept their secrets all these years. I kept sane though when my father beat my head in my sleep because he thought I was pretending to sleep, I did have times of so much stress and he used those times against me to show that my state of mind at that specific time in my life was the norm, which was not the case. It is important to note that my father is an A type personality often psychopathic and paranoid.

I have been directly told by a State Department officer that there is a “warrant on my life”. A red cross worker while I was at red Cross to train in Philippines told me there was a “death by execution” order on me.

I will give $50,000 reward to anyone to use this information to arrest and convict any of the many participants. I have also attached a waiver for the public to contact the State Department about me. The men who came to the door during my repatriation loan can be found, so can the American man Jerry (or Gary) in Davao, so I beg you to do that; They are a few of dozens mentioned in this writing. Some of the people are working in a wide network. My parents are dying so time is running out to find answers from them, and in the Philippines, there are a hundred witnesses who know because in every city I ran to, that network intervened.

My unborn child was tortured and murdered, I had videotaped that happening to protect myself from being blamed, but I gave that android to someone who may have erased it; of course, I could not bear to save a tape of that day’s occurrence when my girlfriend screamed loudly and wriggled for 30 full minutes while the baby fought to survive as a fully developed child inside of her; she did this two different days. Once she laughed at how the baby was moving too slowly afterwards. She was so cruel, just like my family and the passport investigators. The red hair sample of my daughter was also stolen from my suitcase, and my father’s lawyer says that my girlfriend’s confession was what I told her to say. My girlfriend murdered the baby and I asked her to make a confession because I felt it was important for the baby. In the lawyers’ office she needed help to find the correct words and she was left alone most of the time to write it herself to make sure it was in her own thoughts, and the confession included my father’s name because checks sent to pay for things were in his name, and he promised to help with. The lawyer explained that she could go to jail.

That month expecting my baby born soon, very strange things happened with my family and with the people trying to kill me, and someone was giving orders to these people on their mobile phones during each attack, someone with State Department connections.

There have been attempts on my life in several countries and I will not wait for the next time to act. They used a chemical attack on me in the Philippines and where I went after.

I need an investigation to capture these people, and these bad people do have the ability to work with or bribe law enforcement and criminal gangs alike to kill people. I do not investigate myself for I am too afraid and smart to want to know these people. It is in the better interest of the public deal with this.

The innocent healthy baby girl could have lived and so other witnesses who have helped me survive and were killed, as far as I know. I who have not done anything to cause this. Should we be helped of this situation? Or is it too much to ask for? I would be there for anyone else’s baby girl, or an old lady next door, or an average person who may raise his hand. No one has helped so far, so I ask again for the hundredth time; please.

I have attached some parts of what I have managed to keep those people from stealing. My will and testament I made to Donald Trump because the killers were connected to the government and he could help this inhumane situation. I made the will after my escape from a man who twice disguised himself as a doctor who also appeared twice outside my room, he once identified himself as an undercover policeman to a neighbor; my father had told me to go to the hospital after one attempted break in to my apartment the week before my baby was murdered while he taunted me that I was brave. He had also told me when these men came to my room: “That’s what you get for writing the letter”. I was poisoned as a rue more than once to get me to go to the hospital where these people waited to finish their job. I did interview with a doctor when I made this will who diagnosed me as sane and competent.

This is a true account about the time during a passport investigation after several lost passports in which I was accused of selling or forging passports and at which time my family also wanted me dead. These people who work with the United States’ security departments which all coordinate efforts to investigate any passport fraud came down upon my life like a cancer and they will likely kill me and witnesses, so I have written this to help hold them accountable for their wrongs. These people, some had been war heroes, went from American heroes to the bottom of the barrel as their coordinated attacks which included chemical attacks killed a baby girl about to be born, and nearly I too.

From: evieyud [mailto:-------@---.com] Sent: Sunday, November 19, 2017 12:28 PM To: Shulman, Ken W.

Subject: Important

Dear Ken: Please forward to Larry the enclosed letter. I only have old email addresses for him and you stand a better chance of reaching him. Thank you very much. Evelyn

Dear Larry: For quite a while I have been wanting to keep in touch with you but have sat on my hands because you had asked me to please not write to you. I am writing now because I think that in all fairness this situation needs immediate correspondence with you. I looked on the internet to see what literary works our son, Larry Margulies, has written. You succeeded in trashing our whole family and, to top it off, you put a price in our heads. The money for December 2017 will be deposited by November 23rd and is the last of the monthly stipends to be sent to you. Beginning January 1, 2018, you will be on your own. Keep well. Mom

Dear Mother, since 2009 there had been messages on your voicemail machine and threats and attempts on my life and I have not caused that, nor do I know what it is about, but you have information relating to that. I had called your home and spoken to you during those attempts on my life, yet now you claim that I told you not to write to me, which may have been to avoid your wrath. I am sure you can do something to help me from being murdered. My explanation about 'trash' was necessary to overcome the obstacle you presented that by your having told others, such as the embassy and more than one rabbi, and other family, that you believe me to be a liar and a manipulator, how was I to be believed when reporting the attempts on my life. Now my life is in more danger because you are withholding that information and making it more difficult. Would you please consult someone for your health or some way to explain your behavior? You have been forcing me to look for new ways to stop the hit ordered on my life, by people who know about personal family affairs, that I had either no knowledge of or had not told anyone. I expect a copy of the police report soon, if you can do the right thing, I will accept limited correspondence from you while this is sorted out. I have not done anything to have caused the hit in Seattle, nor the other several attempts, it is an ordered hit and you know about it. I have your letter to Ken and will hand that to law enforcement along with witness testimony. Your son. Love Larry

The letter above refers to a stipend; Really this is the principle of the private trust account for mentioned which I began to use after the murders for my school tuition and just about to pay a lifesaving prescription sitting now at Walgreens. I waited my whole life to get away from my family's harassment and to start my own family, and then they killed my first baby and nearly I at same time. This situation began when i was given the choice of a house to call home, at which time there were many questions about where the money came from, what happened to years of dividend checks that I never received, and a trust account that I was never told about, and messages on the family's voicemail machine that corroborated that a surveillance team did in fact threaten to kill me and tried a dozen times in several countries. I was on the run, and clueless as to why, the men threatening me never told me why, and haven't spent a million dollars from the homes mortgage meant for my dream Asian business, finally there lay a mountain of evidence that my father was really a Jewish mobster who used his psychology and government favors to kill me and hide the real reasons, while discrediting me. There was one woman, a very kind looking woman who came between me and one gunman to warn me he was about to kill me as I got into a taxi, "They killed her afterwards", Lesyl told me.

The dates are approximate.

2008 Olympics

Two men inquired about my lost visa, Sasha, white with a Ukrainian passport having an MTV tattoo on the thumb flesh, the other a hardcore black named Jonathon Benny, with a Nigerian passport. Benny told Sasha that I’m from Brookline, I never said so, but I am. Benny told me he was diplomatic security; afterwards, he was concerned that he told me his job and that I had a criminal record, so I wonder now why he befriended me and invited me to Taiwan later. He gave me his telephone number to call.

2009 Canada

My father gave me an income property in Canada, but it owed about 3,000 dollars

property taxes and had no furniture so the property agent's friend recommended taking on a mortgage which I did and then also used it to open my business as planned earlier in Asia. My tenants complained that my mother and Aunt were taken photos in my yard while I was gone, and when I returned for visits from Asia there was a blond lady following my taxi closely wherever I went and when she got stuck behind our car in an alley she frantically waved both her hands in front of her face while I wrote her license plate. A similar thing happened when I went to La for my nephew’s bar mitzvah, a car at the exit followed me closely and when I turned with my phone camera he waved his hands in front of his face the same way and sped away with no passengers. That trip to L.A. I bought a new laptop and a new Verizon stick and as soon as i turned it on to set it up my first time, there was an email address in a blank space on the antivirus set up that read "I need larry@gmail.com".

2010 Hong Kong

I had 13 stitches on my head from an attack with a bottle and met a bodyguard at the Mandarin Oriental hotel, and after he took me to a different hotel where I phone called Benny from the Olympics from the new hotel room. Answering my call Benny said, “I don’t know you” and now we hung up I thought I heard him say "you're dead". The next week two ex-military type men came to my table sitting to me closely and said, "We are going to kill you". It was just after I mortgaged my house; I was in Hong Kong to open my first office, beginning the long process to make a movie and hotel business in Asia. I had no idea who these people were, and I owed no money to anyone. I told them “There is no reason to kill me” to which they replied after a moment “Are you a Jew?” Then I called my father about it and he asked me if I had told those men “There is no reason”. I called Benny again a month later and we talked about opening an English school in Taiwan.

2010 Seattle

Seattle- I went to Seattle for a new passport instead of Boston, because it was closer to my new house in Canada. The Seattle Passport Agency refused to renew my passport. Leaving there one Thursday morning at 11:30, and across the street to eat lunch the hostess called me a taxi, and then a bottle fell to exactly where my head was, at the entrance to the Brooklyn Seafood restaurant. The new armed bodyguard I hired confirmed inside the eatery that a bottle had fallen as I described. The police told me it could have been an accident when I went to report it, but it was impossible because this building has closed roof access and closed windows. Several men were following me after that in Seattle. I stopped one man behind me who I asked what he did. “I kill people”, he said. he claimed to have earned a medal of honor, his name was Jean Luc from Alaska, Seal team 5, that he was the only survivor, but the navy seal base I called said contrary. Jean Luc sometimes works at the 88 Piano Bar in Seattle for cash. He is famous on the streets there, so he should know if some mercenary tried killing me in front of the Federal building; besides he was following me too. Several men followed me there including two bald men; one was in Hong Kong standing behind me on his phone asking the other end to shoot me or not. Inside another restaurant the bald men sat down next to me and my friend who worked security next door; they did not order anything, and I joked to my friend that “we had a file on them” to which the larger bald man asked the shorter one if it was true and he said “no”. My friend offered to apprehend them, but I said “no”. Also, was a huge black commando

with a live security clearance, he said and asked me about my trip in Asia. His cousin with him nudged “When you gonna do him?". This commando reached his hand outstretched towards my side under the table while phone call on. Upon my leaving a coffee place where I had befriended a barista a certain gray-haired man asked her if I bothered her to which she replied no. Yet another man in Seattle with a big bushy beard who I stopped from following me in zig zag, he said he had once been a secret agent. All these men and the men later definitely took orders from someone else via phone and let the receiver overhear real time.

2010 Weston, Massachusetts

The Boston passport agency gave me a new passport, but the man at the window handing it to me warned I would be under a passport investigation. Possibly either the passport investigators or the private team took advantage to blame the other for the murders. According to the job description of State department investigators must form relationships with both criminal organizations and businesses in their territory which explains how they kept harassing me everywhere I went. During the attempts on my life my father began his cover story that I was insane, and that he was terminally ill (See Boston Globe) and my mother called me a liar. At his trial work attorney F. Lee Bailey said Yudowitz told him "He hasn’t killed anyone,” but at our home with guests my father said he believed O.J. Simpson was guilty and this proves publicly that my father cannot be trusted. My father often intimidated others with true stories about the Murder Inc. hit men he was raised amongst before he became director of psychiatry in Massachusetts. He built a successful Scottish housing company which employed a room painter man named Graham who'd murdered a man with his bare hands. Behind his office door he often bragged that John Gotti had called him "the doc". On his free time, he sometimes hung out with bikers and had visits from the children of famous Brooklyn gangsters. He was also heard saying loudly while opening house mail "I'm gonna miss Whitey. He could sure fix a problem!". He is very connected and one of his psychiatric clients is a royal princess.

My mother had sent emails to me concerning her recent voicemails which were about me. The messages were not meant for me, but my father. It became obvious theyhad hired very dangerous private investigators and the messages revealed information about money I had paid and the numbers on their caller id were from near Hong Kong and also Canada by not anyone I knew. My father also asked me to translate a message left from the son of a Panama president whom he befriended. Also, was the message of the black undercover agent with the U.S. State Department. While I was in Boston I took a copy of my father's wire to his Cayman island account from Scotland and the men who came to Cebu asked me about Caymans and were seen at my room door when a paper resembling that fax to Caymans disappeared from my tidy red folder. Some of these men were holding Finish passports and though they claimed to have had their boat confiscated sailing into America and they used information only someone could have known from my time spent with the previously mentioned two undercover agents, I guessed that they were possibly related to my father's trips to Israel because in his handwritten letter to me he spoke of being with Finish people. I was on a trip to Israel once with him and he said that his friend Vinnie Murphy the geologist was C.I.A. It is not improbable that my father concocted this elaborate plan to kill me as he had already been murderous to me growing up, once ramming my car while I drove my classmate Nugyen Weeks simply because he thought I tried hiding while passing him.

My father used my mother's dashboard mobile phone to eavesdrop on my conversation with my mother while she and I drove around Boston, and upon our return he was very upset that I asked my mom in her car the question if he lied sometimes or all the time. I arranged an appointment at his office with his best friend and private investigator Paul Mcsweeney about the surveillance on me and also the attempt on my life, but they never asked once about it. Driving my first carat nineteen, I caught my parents’ investigators taking U-turn after U-turn behind me, my mother denied it at first, but her sister confronted her for me on my behalf she then admitted it. Those people following were Paul's people but in this meeting they all denied any of it. Even though Paul had already met me during his surveillance on me during my teens, Paul said he owed my dad his life and then asked me to look at his elbow and asked me what it reminded me of. It seemed to be a taunt about the time I revealed that I was molested after a touch to my elbow, and strangely enough then men who came to Cebu as I mentioned before also asked me to look at their elbow.

2010 Taiwan

I went to Taiwan a few times I met the agent’s black lady who founded “Descendants of African people”. She said Benny worked for the State Department. My father sponsored that trip.

2013 Philippines

On invitation from a girl I stayed in Philippines on and off for about four years. Between girlfriends and back to Manila once, a family at the hotel lobby invited me to dinner far away so as a precaution I took a hotel van with the security driver. At our destination totally, new people greeted us and instructed us to drive under a bridge in the pitch black. The driver and I agreed not to do that and the man who greeted us then clearly said on his phone “the hit is canceled”. In Cebu when my mother had sent my high school transcripts to my hotel for me to apply to school, there also came a small crowd of men but they stayed opposite my hotel at another one named Kukus nest. Some of those men who came to Cebu asked me about Caymans and one American who had called me by my Hebrew name used in a sci fi story was seen near my room door when a paper resembling that fax to Caymans disappeared from my tidy red folder; that man also told me to look at his elbow. After that group left, a new man stayed there named David who claimed to have earned a purple heart, and he came up to me several times with his phone on; he stayed around more than a few months. I confronted Dave about the surveillance and said to him that I would have him investigated likewise; he then threatened to throw me overboard attached to concrete blocks and immediately made a phone call out to “have all phone records deleted.”

2014 Davao Philippines

I invited Lesyl from Cebu to Davao, and I applied to a university for my criminology degree and to open a coffee shop while I sat on my Nasdaq stock. An American named Jerry showed up at the coffee place offering to help me. My potential business partner overheard Jerry asking me specifically about the science fiction story I which I wrote years earlier that I gave to my family and brother Michael, an amateur UFO researcher. I had told them to delete it since it was bad, and I never had told anyone about it. I had also deleted it. Apparently, Michael hadn’t delete it. Jerry’s comments about it scared her away. Jerry had a Quezon City police ID with his photo and name on it. I told jerry that the FBI would not take any more of my phone calls, and he said “They have people inside the FBI". Jerry came to my apartment in Davao and pointed to the photo of my father saying my father was “not someone to cross”. Jerry was arrested for selling fake Marlboros in Davao, and I brought a sandwich to him at the jail. I am 100% sure he knows who hired the assassination team, so I stress that the $50,000-dollar reward I now offer could be awarded by tracking this Jerry down and gaining evidence. A bar owner, a retired navy officer, in downtown Davao, also spoke with Jerry and made his own conclusion that Jerry may be in the federal witness protection program for whatever reason.

2014 Cebu

I went back to Cebu to the consulate’s citizen services and asked my family for assistance in buying an air ticket for me back to the United States, and they emailed my father asking his help to send the calculated $2500, but my father only sent $1500. I had told my father about my plans to return to America and to seek a lawyer about stopping these men stalking me; He sounded solemnly disappointed at that like he didn't want me to do that. I had spent several years running from these men and lost a home already because of it. Then a gray haired American man came with two cowering policemen behind him and that address only the State Department had for the repatriation loan. Soon before these men came to my girlfriend's house at 26 C Imus Highway an American had walked slowly pass me as if to identify me, his hair was obviously dyed black to blend in. Soon before the assassination attempt at the hospital in Baguio a year later this same man passed by me slowly. I walked up to the gray-haired man while the two policemen stared at the ground and he asked me how I made money, so I told him, by E*TRADE. I also told him that my father had just lost 20,000 dollars of my possessions that he offered to help transport which I could have done myself. The gray-haired man joked in an evil way, that he was from France, because somehow, he had overheard my joke the week before when I said that I was from France. He also joked about the Boston marathon bombings, that maybe it wasn't those two boys. The man was obviously an idiot. I told him I didn’t like being bothered and the very next day another American who I recognized from a year from at the Cebu mall, and he asked to borrow a dollar then said, “Aren’t You from France?” He looked like the ex-military man that worked in Boston on Paul Mcsweeney’s boat at the Quincy harbor. Lesyl, my girlfriend became pregnant while I waited for the repatriation loan to process when I had already planned to leave her.


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