After reading what Rick posted, I just had to add my two cents!
After I married Gunther Russbacher, ONI, CIA, in 1989, I began to realize that things were not at all what they appeared to be.
Before I continue this, for the new readers who don't know the story of my marriage to Gunther, let me quickly say that he was arrested two days after we married and he stayed in prison almost the entire 10 years of our marriage.
One day, as I was having a phone installed in my new house, the phone man motioned me over, handed me a telephone and said, "Your husband wants to talk to you."
Gunther was in prison at the time. He was in Terminal Island, near Long Beach, California.
Gunther told me that the telephone man was installing a special scrambler that would make it impossible for the FBI to listen in on my conversations.
The next day, while I was making lunch for the man who was installing the cable the phone rang.
It was Gunther, "Let me talk to the turkey." he said.
"What turkey are you talking about?" I asked.
The cable man held out his hand for the phone and said, "He means me!"
They talked for a while and then the cable man handed the phone back to me. (The cable man re-appeared in our lives four years later to help us work on the gold transfer!)
Gunther told me not to worry if the cable man stayed in the house all day. It never occurred to me to ask Gunther why. In hindsite, I wonder if a hit order had been put out on me and the cable man was there to make sure I stayed alive!!
One of the funniest things that ever happened was at the same house, the house where Gunther told me the phone was scrambled so the FBI couldn't listen in.
One day I noticed a very strange panel truck parked across the street. It was light pink and blue and had the name and address of the company written on the side.
The name was something like: "The Dipsy Doo Diaper Service". The address and telephone number were in San Francisco. I thought this was very strange, because I lived in the Santa Cruz mountains, about an hour and a half from San Francisco.
One day when Gunther called, I told Gunther about the panel truck. He told me to go outside and look at the license plate. He told me what the letters would be before I got there! And he was absolutely right!! Gunther told me that it was a "pool vehicle" that had been checked out of San Francisco. He said he had been informed of it by a friend who ran the CIA office in San Francisco. He also told me that anyone in government could recognise these vehicles because of the license plate number.
Then he told me to stand in front of the truck and continue talking to him. I did as he told me. He said a few things that I did NOT understand. Suddenly the panel truck started its engine. Backed up... away from me... spun a u-turn and sped away!
I knew Gunther had told them something that made them do that, but he never told me what it was.
One day, as I was waiting in the San Francisco Airport to catch a Southwest Airlines plane back to Missouri, the gate attendent walked up to me and asked, "Are you Mrs Russbacher?" I answered yes and wondered what had happened. She responded, "Our President wants to speak with you." When I got to the counter, she handed me a telephone. I said hello to the man on the other end and he said, "Your husband wants to talk to you." with that he put Gunther on the line.
Gunther told me to always fly Southwest Air because it was a "Company Airline" and I would always be safe on SWA.
One of the strangest and most puzzling things that happened involving government agents disguised as cable men, phone men, diaper service men, etc... happened after Gunther left me and married Jane! (He married her before he divorce me.)
One day the doorbell rang. Before I answered it I looked out the window and saw a phone truck parked in the driveway. I opened the door and a phone man asked if this was 2525 Howard Way, I said yes. He then handed me an envelope and said that he had a work order. I told him there was nothing wrong with the phone.
"I know," he said, "But there is the work order."
It didn't dawn on me until later that he knew there was nothing wrong with the phone... If he had a work order to fix my phone, how did he know the phone worked???
I pulled out the work order. There was a small piece of paper inside a larger yellow paper. On the small piece of paper was a poem. Even after all these years, I can still remember it:
The Gunther Russbacher
Who Lives With Jane
And the One you Married
Are Not the Same.
To find the One
Who has the real Face
You must Look in the Darkest Place!
Try Langely VA
And have a nice Day!
The moment I looked up, the telephone man grabbed the envelope out of my hand. He left without saying a thing. I was too stunned to do anything.
I ran back in the house and wrote down the poem before I forgot it. I looked out the window in time to see the phone man drive away. It was THEN I recognized him as one of Gunther's friends.
Needless to say, I could continue telling these stories... but I think you get the idea.
In May of 1991, after Gunther went public with what he knew about the October Surprise and George Bush's involvement in it, things began to get even stranger for me.
Gunther was not able to get a 'secure line' for our conversations anymore, so I had to learn a secret code language to talk to him. He called it "slingo".
I also realized that the government could tap any communication I had... including mail, phone, fax, or with a friend at a restaurant.
One day Gunther sent a man to deliver a message. The man, whom I knew and trusted, stopped by, unannounced, with a picnic basket. He said, "Let's go to the beach!"
I grabbed some towels and we went to a beach that had a high cliff next to it.
After we sat and ate our lunch the man said, "Let's go for a walk."
We walked to the edge of the water, where the sand is packed down. He bent over, picked up a stick, and began writing in the sand.
He told me, through the messages he wrote in the sand, that there was an FBI van parked on the cliff listening to everything we said. He also told me that he was probably being tracked by sattelite from NRO. The man was an Admiral in Navy Intelligence.
After he wrote that, I understood why he bent over the words that he wrote, he knew the sattelites could read what he was writing, so he hid the words with his body.
He wrote, "Package will be delivered to Congress tomorrow! Don't worry if you don't hear from Gunther. He needs to go get the package."
He then told me NOT to discuss any of this with anyone because everyone was listening to everything I said. He said that Gunther sent him because Gunther was afraid that I might do something that would alert the Feds if I didn't hear from him for 24 hours. This was happening during the election of 1992. George Bush monitered everything we did.
Gunther was right, I probably would have created a crisis on the fax networks we used at the time to get out the word! And if the government knew that Gunther was out of contact with me, they would probably think that he was 'out of pocket' and start looking.
What was the package that Gunther had to go get??
It was the cockpit video from the SR71 he flew President Bush back from the Paris meeting which finalized the October Surprise.
Twelve men from Congress viewed the tape. They were flown in Navy jets to an aircraft carrier. They were then put over the side of the carrier onto a craft that was lashed to the side of the carrier under the part of the runway that sticks out. The craft had a center part where a submarine could surface without breaking the surface. The men were worried about being tracked by sattelite.
On the submarine, the Congressmen were shown the video tape, which had a time stamp and a location, i.e. latitude and longitude, stamp on the bottom.
The congressmen were also briefed on a number of other things.
When Gunther returned, he called me and told me that he had been to the dentist. That was our codeword meaning he had been checked out by his men. In our code language I was able to discover that he had flown from Missouri to Maryland and finally to the aircraft carrier out in the Pacific. He also told me that they almost shot a kangaroo. The next day I discovered what he meant when a pilot from a Quantas Airliner said he was contacted by a Navy ship and told to get out of the airspace or he would be shot down.
At the time, I was living in California and Gunther was in prison in Missouri... (John Ashcroft was Governor at the time. Ashcroft was NOT very happy with George Bush. Ashcroft felt that Gunther was going to be murdered in prison and Ashcroft would be blamed for it.)
I did not find out the whole story of what went down that day until I went to Missouri to visit Gunther. Even in prison, our conversations were monitered. The only way he could really communicate was with a tic tac toe pencil we used to play games.
I smuggled a lot of information out of prisons while I was married to him. I often wondered what would have happened if any of these messages had been confiscated.
One of the after affects of all the government eavesdropping that I went through while I was married to Gunther, is the knowledge that NOTHING I say or write is private. I simply assume the "boys" listen in on ALL my conversations!
Since 1989 I have known that most of my conversations were listened in on. That's why my sources NEVER (or almost never) give me any information over the phone.
One of the recent ways they had been passing "bits" of information to me is by leaving trash in my front yard! I live on a street where kids walk to and from school. There is ALWAYS a candy wrapper or popsicle wrapper in my yard.
One day, I mentioned, over the telephone, that one of my sources had left me a message in the trash on the front yard. I come home for lunch around noon, and pick up any trash that is there. As I picked up the one piece, I saw that it had the symbol we use as a sign the message is from a trusted source.
Several days later, after I had put the message out on the internet, I told a friend, over the telephone, where the message came from.
Guess what?? It is NOW three to four weeks later... and there has not been ONE s##### of trash on my front yard!!
Have the kids stopped throwing their garbage on my front yard... or is the government cleaning up my trash hoping to find another note from my source!!
Don't you just love it! Your taxes are keeping the trash picked up out of my yard!!
Rayelan
