Carole Baskins Diary

Holotropic Breathwork May 25 2002

Jane Hollister has found a piece of paradise on earth in Spirit Springs, Homosassa, FL.  It is a 30 acre tract owned by Jane Shaw that is surrounded, now, by a national park.  This is my first experience with Holotropic Breathwork and although I have read a book about it, I was not prepared for the insight that would come.  The setting is very important to this sort of work and Jamie and I are fortunate to be here at a time when astrologers are saying that the planets are particularly well positioned for this sort of transformational work.  Tonight is a full moon and tomorrow is a solar eclipse.  If ever anyone needed a sign, they would surely find one in all of this.

 

The cabins were the perfect transition into what is important in life.  They were duplexes, approximately 20 feet deep and 40 feet wide, with two sets of bunk beds on each side and a closet that separates the two halves.  The area from the top of the 8 foot closet wall to the high pitched ceiling was open, so you felt connected to the people on the other side as well.  Each cabin sleeps eight and they share a screened in porch in front.  The walls are mostly windows and even the doors are glass on the top half.  There is a ceiling fan on  both sides and electrical outlets, but no phones, water or bathrooms.  No T.V., nor radio.  All focus here is on the self and the beauty surrounding self.

 

The cabins and the bath house with toilets are constructed of rough cut cedar and are set on poles with a cat walk connecting them at odd angles through out the swamp.  The feeling here is of making as little impact on nature as possible and yet being able to fully enjoy her sights, sounds and the creatures that call her home.  The roofs are made of tin, but are camouflaged, so that they disappear in the canopy.  Even during the hottest time of day it is cool here with just the breeze from the fan and the clean air through the windows.  This is the highest quality air in the world and it feels wonderful to fill my lungs with this holistic breath.

 

I knew my dreams this first night would be important because I have been led to this ancient Indian play ground.  There are two burial mounds here and the spring here is where the braves would dive through a very narrow passageway as part of their right of passage.  The underground cavern is not very long, but is dark, narrow and underwater.  How well is typifies life, and I can see how the Indians would have acknowledged the facing of the fears we all have; of being stuck, of not being able to breath, when they would accept this physical challenge.  At the spring, which is 35 feet deep, is reported the spirit of Harora.  She speaks to the shamans.

 

Jamie and I had stood on the docks last night looking at our entertainment options.  We could canoe or kayak and I have always had a fear of kayaking.  In my dream I again stood there making the same choice of how to traverse the river.  I feared that the kayak would over turn.  It was old and had leaks in it and looked even smaller as I stood there making my decision.  The canoe, by comparison, looked big, comfortable and sound, and I could take someone with me, but I was drawn to the experience of the kayak.  I decided I would take it just a few yards down current and turn around to see how hard is would be to come back to the dock.  The water was shallow and I could always bail out if I saw that I couldn’t paddle upstream to get back to where I started.

 

I strapped myself in and, almost holding my breath, launched free of the mooring.  The river was moving faster than I had thought, but I calmed as a huge hand descended over me.  The hand was much like the boughs of the sweat lodge I had visited last night, and it was covered with bougainvillea.   As the “hand” covered me I felt safe, protected and capable of accomplishing anything.  The hand moved over the water in a beautiful, peaceful dance, and I was swept along in an elation of

Looking down at my feet, I saw that I was wearing boots that were too tight and that were buttoned up.  My drab red skirt and petticoats told me the time and place.  I was standing in the doorway to the saloon, hanging on the swinging doors, and looking wistfully down the dirt street.  A man on a horse rode by, kicking up an obnoxious cloud of dust, and I wondered what it would be like to live on “the other side”.  I’d never had a husband or a family and knew I never would.  I felt content with the path I had chosen, but from time to time I wondered what it would feel like to be respectable.  I usually dismissed the romantic notion of a husband loving me, because I knew almost every husband in this town, in the Biblical sense of the word.

 

I was a frightfully ugly woman.  I was short and had thick stocky legs.  My hair was long, but poor nutrition and lack of attention caused it to be brittle and dull.  My face was absolutely nothing to write home about and I wondered how a woman this unattractive could support herself as a bar whore.  I guess the frontier was a harsh place and lots of men were separated from their women for long periods of time.  I had offered the same thing in this lifetime as I did in the one I am writing from, in that I made the men feel special.  I paid attention to them and really cared about them as people, not just as a means to support myself.  It showed.  They knew, and even though they couldn’t publicly pay me any mind, I could feel their hearts go out to me when they saw the way the women in town treated me.

 

Hanging on this door, on this uneventful day, seemed a strange place to enter this life, so I prompted myself to go forward to the next substantial event in her life.  I was older and in the same saloon, but the world was a different place.  I heard the men folk talk about all the new inventions man was making for himself and thought how good it was to be alive in such a progressive age.  We had come so far and I took a sense of pride in the way we were moving into a future full of promising possibilities.

 

I owned the bar now.  Since I never had any bad habits or kin to support, I was able to stash away a good sum of money.  When the owner was nearing death he made me a good deal on this old place so I wouldn’t have to be friendly to men I didn’t like.  I told myself I was a good person, with a respectable job and life style, but once the town whore, always the town whore, and the rest of the town folk were not as convinced of my goodness as I was.  It didn’t matter much though because I was happy and I had a roof over my head and no one else to answer to.  This was a good business to be in.  No matter how many others tried and failed to make a living in this desert town, the bar was always profitable.

 

I had been disturbed earlier when I was trying to relax into this non ordinary state and decided I better move this picture show along to its final scene before I was interrupted again.

 

It was 1876 and I was laying in a bed in the upstairs of the saloon and the sunlight was flooding in the window.  It was a beautiful day outside, but I wasn’t going to be here for it.  I was really old and wrinkled now, but I felt no pain.  I just felt like I was easing away, almost sneaking, out the window.  Doc was there, with a young filly of a nurse.  She was reading something in her lap and sitting pretty close.  Doc stood behind her because he didn’t want his emotions to show.  She might detect that he and I were better friends than anybody in this town needed to know.  I wanted to tell him not to feel bad for my sake.  I was at peace.  I was going home.

 

I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t move anything but my eyes.  I fixed them on the young nurse.  I could feel that she was purposefully trying to avoid my gaze.  When she did look me in the eye, it was with the unmistakable disdain for my life style, that helped me to immediately recognize my daughter Jamie.

 

She didn’t have to be there.

Warning Graphic!

 

I Will Be Recognized For Who I Am

I dreamt that I was on a long, winding road and did not know where I was or where I was going.  Some would call this lost, but I never feel lost;  only like I don’t know where I am, but certain that I will find my way.

 

Sometimes I was traveling on foot, sometimes faster as though by rail or car.  The road was rocky and that describes life pretty well.

 

I had binoculars and looked into the crowds in bleachers, people at a distance and then in a remote area, where there seemed to be few others around me, I watched a horrifying scene unfold.  There was a narrator, such as you would expect on a tour, describing the scene in front of me with total detachment.  I do not remember his words but I was aware of his monotone monologue.

 

There was a white sandy beach, pristine in its beauty before me.  There were two small boys, maybe three years old, with dark, Indian features.  They were playing in the sand and a man was approaching them.  He too, was Indian and handsome in a fierce and rugged way.  He was dressed in animal skins and was carrying a club.  Hovering over the children, he bashed them senseless with the club.  Before the first one died, he cradled the boy in his arms in what looked to be a loving gesture at first.  He then ripped the child’s throat open with his beautiful, straight, white teeth and began lapping the child’s blood up with eerie delight.  The child’s body was convulsing as his life’s blood was being sucked out of him.  I could not continue to watch.

 

The tour continued to a large building, such as an airport or extremely large gymnasium.  There were lots of people there, including Robert Mitchem.  Didn’t he play in “The Fugitive”?  Maybe that is why it was him.  I had to be about 4 when that show was popular and couldn’t tell you anything about it.

 

A lot of women were vying for his attention, but I knew that I would stand out above the rest and approached him.  We seemed to get along very well, and I thought I was reading all of his sexual cues, but when the time came to make a commitment, he said that I was not his type.  What surprised me was my reaction.  I did not feel rejected.  I felt such love and compassion for him that I was able to let him go and wish him well.  There was no emptiness in my heart.  No feeling of inadequacy.  It felt fine.

 

He seemed so shocked that I reacted the way I did that he began to retract and say that perhaps he would like to continue this relationship, because there was something undeniably special about me.  I woke up.

 

The moral of this dream?  I will be recognized for who I am and the love I am capable of, by the right person.  I don’t have to take the emotional clubbing and blood letting that I subject myself to in order to feel loved (cradled).  It is when I love, with no need to control the situation, that I will be the happiest.

 

 

I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/

 

I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.  

 

You can help feed the cats at no cost to you using Amazon Smile!

Visit BigCatRescue.org/Amazon-smile

 

You can see photos, videos and more, updated daily at BigCatRescue.org

 

Check out our main channel at YouTube.com/BigCatRescue

 

Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.

Twenty minutes and a 175 page book changed my life tonight.  I broke up with Peter Kent yesterday and chose to avoid him until he had some time to cool down and collect his thoughts.  I came home today after morning services hoping that we could talk reasonably and settle the matter of his moving out, but he still has not come home, called or emailed.  I felt compelled to read a book I just bought called “Only Love Is Real” by Brian L. Weiss, M.D. even though it was not next on my list.

 

Weiss spoke of how soul mates recognize each other when they look into each other’s eyes and sometimes even before that.  I thought of  my boyfriend’s words from his profile, “My spirit will know her when we meet”.  I loved him from that day and was sure he was my soul mate.  Meeting him threw me off, because his eyes seemed veiled to me, like he was hiding something.  His words struck chords that my soul had longed to hear again, but his eyes were always distant somehow.  Only recently have I felt that I could see him, or that he was seeing me, when our eyes met, but by then the damage had been done to my trust and it was too late.

 

The book mentioned chronic pain and without my boyfriend in my life I have found myself fearful of reverting to the bone crushing headaches, the agonizing menstrual pain and the paralyzing pain in my lower, middle back.  How would I cope with this pain without my boyfriend’s skills as a Chiropractor and Acupuncturist to relieve it?  Dr. Weiss suggested that chronic pain is often the result of a previous life injury and is sort of a reminder to remember who we were and why we are here now.

 

I looked around the room at the Icart’s on the wall and the flair for the 1920’s and 1930’s that pervades my life in choices of clothing, art, furniture and cars.  I remembered the reoccurring dream of committing suicide by driving my convertible at top speed into the rock face at the top of a mountain road.  I remember the impact, feeling the steering column crush into my abdomen and through me.  I remember the bone crushing impact of my head with the dash and collapsing windshield.  I remember the anger of having been jilted and swearing that no man would ever do that to me again.  I was arrogant, superficial, wealthy and full of anger at having been betrayed.  I couldn’t cope with the feelings and took my own life with a sense of indignant revenge.  The dream ends with me floating above my body, incredulous at my self destruction.  I have had the dream many times and since my amnesia even wondered if it happened in this life and I had survived.

 

That could explain volumes.  It would probably be my most recent death and would explain all of my pain.  The car I loved most in the world was a 1937 Mercedes Gazelle convertible that Don bought for me.  Don was born the year that type of car was new.  I loved that car like I have never loved any possession.  I drove it so carefully and loved the feel of the wind in my hair.  I had a similar one before, but it didn’t “feel” right and I sold it in only a month or two.  After Don’s disappearance, I was selling off the equipment and cars and one of the dealers kept pestering me to sell him my little roadster.  I finally did and rationalized to myself that I would have killed myself in it anyway.  It was a kit car on a Taurus frame, with a VW engine.  I drove it like a little old lady.  What would have possessed me to think such a thing or to part with the car I loved so much?

 

The author went on to tell how he regressed patients through past lives using a hall with doors on either side and he would tell his client that each door represented a life or an important memory.  He would instruct them to wait until a door opened and then go through it and look at their shoes.  From there they would describe themselves and then the relevant scene that was unfolding.

 

I have been told that you can’t meditate with an agenda and that whatever is most important will happen of its

I Am Exploring And Searching for Beauty and Meaning

I dreamt last night that I was walking down a road, pulling a little red wagon.  The skies were overcast and the feel of rain was heavy in the air.  I wanted to dig up some Firecracker plants to take home to my garden, but most of them seemed scraggly and frail.  I heard a voice that suggested I take a couple of the healthier ones and also take along the soil that the plants would need to survive.

 

I scooped up huge handfuls of dark red soil that was soft and moist and put it in the wagon.  I felt that other nutrients would be needed and started looking closely at the surrounding landscape for other colours that I could add.  As I gathered the handfuls of soft clay, of various colours, I noticed that the soil was getting harder and harder to scoop up.

 

My attention was diverted to the fact that the sun was coming out and everything was taking on a more concrete form.  The sun was so radiant that I felt lost in basking in the glory of it and no longer was concerned about the garden, the plants nor the soil.

 

The dream was so real and so easily remembered, even later in the day, that I thought is must be a message.  My interpretation was that I am seeking the beautiful light, the celebration of life and this was symbolized by the Firecracker flower.  To reach this level of beauty required searching for the components that would make it possible, such as the knowledge from all of the differing sources that I am currently exploring.  The coming of the sun, was the end of the search, and was far more glorious than the light of fireworks against a blackened sky.

 

The search did not lead to the sunshine but rather it came unexpectedly while I was on the quest.  Only time will tell if this be prophecy or fantasy.

 

I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/

 

I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.  

 

You can help feed the cats at no cost to you using Amazon Smile!

Visit BigCatRescue.org/Amazon-smile

 

You can see photos, videos and more, updated daily at BigCatRescue.org

 

Check out our main channel at YouTube.com/BigCatRescue

 

Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.

Strength and Courage

 

It takes strength to be certain

It takes courage to have doubts

It takes strength to fit in,

It takes courage to stand out.

It takes strength to share a friend's pain,

It takes courage to feel your own pain.

It takes strength to hide your own pain,

It takes courage to show it and deal with it.

It takes strength to stand guard,

It takes courage to let down your guard.

It takes strength to conquer,

It takes courage to surrender.

It takes strength to endure abuses,

It takes courage to stop them.

It takes strength to stand alone,

It takes courage to lean on a friend.

It takes strength to love,

It takes courage to be loved.

It takes strength to survive,

It takes courage to live.

May you find strength and courage

in everything you do,

And may your life be filled with

Friendship and Love!

 

Sylvia Kelly

 

I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/

 

I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.  

 

You can help feed the cats at no cost to you using Amazon Smile!

Visit BigCatRescue.org/Amazon-smile

 

You can see photos, videos and more, updated daily at BigCatRescue.org

 

Check out our main channel at YouTube.com/BigCatRescue

 

Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.

Carole the Ox

The Ox of Chinese Astrology is no bull in a china shop. Steadfast and solid, this powerful Sign is a born leader, being quite dependable and possessing an innate ability to achieve great things. Oxen tend to be plodding and methodical; they approach projects in the step-by-step manner that serves them best, and they never lose sight of their goal. They are tireless workers who are detail-oriented and believe in doing things right the first time.

 

The world may perceive Oxen as being far too serious or incapable of loosening up. This sturdy sort is less than social by nature and tends to become introverted in a crowd. To make things worse, they can't be bothered with what other people think and prefer to do what makes them feel best. Behind that calm facade, though, lives an Ox who can feel hurt, lonely and unable to connect with others. Friends and family are a great source of comfort to this beast, even if they don't always understand what makes the Ox tick. As a lover, friend, family member or housemate, the Ox makes a wonderfully strong, tender and affectionate companion who is protective and always reliable.

 

Out in the world, though, Oxen tend to be stubborn, dogmatic, my-way-or-the-highway kind of people who have no concept of when to back down. Oxen don't care to be pushed, especially since they think they're the good guys of the Chinese Zodiac. There is some truth to that theory, since the Ox is smart, trustworthy, caring and honorable. If you need honest, steady and unbiased advice, call on the Ox.

 

A good lesson for mighty Oxen is to strive to overcome a judgmental nature that keeps them from getting close to others. If they can learn to value their own good qualities, they'll have more room in their hearts to invite others in.

 

I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views.  If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story.  The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/

 

I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story.  My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.  

 

You can help feed the cats at no cost to you using Amazon Smile!

Visit BigCatRescue.org/Amazon-smile

 

You can see photos, videos and more, updated daily at BigCatRescue.org

 

Check out our main channel at YouTube.com/BigCatRescue

 

Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only and is my opinion.

You can call the shots anytime

Dear Peter Kent,  You can call the shots anytime.  I am always the beneficiary of your loving ways.  I agree that the prolonged glow was because we were in between sessions, but I feel that we are always in between sessions.  Loving you is a 24/7 experience for me.  No beginning and no end.  It permeates all of my life and that makes is so unique and so special.  I want to spend every moment with you and find it very hard to pull away and do the things we each have to do outside of our bond.

 

You asked today if we would feel different if we were married.  I know from loving Don for the 11 years prior to our marriage and the 11 years after, that I feel the same, in or out of marriage.  The only real difference for me is the legitimacy of my relationship before man and God.  I know that the life I live now is not acceptable before God and that I set a very bad example to all who know me by living with a man who is not my husband.  I don't know if God would approve our marriage, since we were married before and our divorces were not for the only scripturally approved reason of infidelity.  My husband was unfaithful, but I divorced him because I hated him, not for the "right" reasons.  I can only pray that should we choose that path, the Lord will be forgiving of our past mistakes and judge us on who we have become, not who we were.

 

I am not a member at the church I attend, because I live in a manner that is not acceptable.  I would not wish to bring shame on the others who are members by my lifestyle being cause for criticism.  I was asked, by a woman who has known me from child hood, to give my contact info for the church directory for the first time Sunday.  The directory is not a membership roll, but just a way that we can all contact each other and know each others birthdays.  I filled it in, but reminded her that my marital status precludes me from asking to be a member.  I thought that perhaps she had forgotten and was trying to give her a graceful way to not include my information.  No one there looks down on me, because they know me, but I choose to not publicly affiliate myself with them because others, looking on from outside, could well say that our church is full of hypocrites, because one of them lives with a man who is not her husband, and the others have accepted her into their membership.  Marriage doesn't cure the issue, but it is more acceptable than my current situation.

 

That became a very long explanation of something only on the fringe of the subject and that wasn't my intent.  What I want to know is how it would change your feelings.  You brought it up, but you didn't give me any indication of what marriage means to you and how you feel about the difference.  I would like to know your heart on the matter.  Tell me what you feel, though, and not what you think I want to hear.  I would hope that you always feel safe enough to do that.  Love, Carole

 

From Peter A. Kent:

 

Marriage is something I have had a bad attitude about all my life, until you.  I do not say that because I want to get married; I say that because I know what you are, what you believe and what your family is like.  I will marry you if you bring home someone else once each quarter, it has to be a female, sorry.  (that was a joke).  You are an incredible creature, in every way imaginable.  I have no problem wishing to be the best that I can for you and wanting to be with you always.  What do I feel about marriage?... I do not think that being married to you would change any thing about the way I feel about us and that is strange for me to say,  I have always thought that marriage was giving up my freedom but you are quite all I would ever want.   I honestly put it on for the feel of it at times, and, it does not feel bad.

 

You are the biggest person I have ever met; your heart and your incredible love for me are soooo filling.  I was thinking about you lying beside me as I watched the game for a

Yo, Doctor Carole  My arms are much better.   I do have a bad attitude this morning, what can you do about that?  I am waiting for energy to show up; it would have to be Divine Energy this morning.  I'm tired and crabby. Pk

 

1/24/02

Dear Peter Kent,

 

 

Please go take your meds and then come back and read this.  Alan Schreier emailed me yesterday and asked if I had found someone special yet.  I wrote him back this morning and said this about you:

 

Dear Alan Schreier

 

I am forwarding the bill to you, with the Chase statement that is still coming to the house.  I am glad to hear that Zorro and Zoe are settling in and hope that you are finding peace and happiness as well.  I am so glad that my Aunt is a help to you.  The news on Todd is great.  Does he live with you now?  It sounds like he just needed to be the foremost person in your life for him to blossom.  All the rest was probably just trying to get your attention.  I am glad that your business is going well for you too.  You deserve and will find much happiness.

 

I will tell you about mine, but expect to hear about yours as well.  I found a Doctor on Match.com who brings me great comfort.  He is a very spiritual man and prays with me and for me often.  He has 8 degrees and 3 of them are doctorate, so he is stimulating mentally.  He is a healer and has eliminated pain from my life.  You know how much I dealt with back and neck pain, head aches and my menstrual period was enough to just about do me in every month.  With his abilities as a Chiropractor, Acupuncturist, and doctor of Chinese Medicine he has brought my body peace, such as I have never known.

 

It feels so good to be able to greet each day without pain.  I am on a bit of a euphoric high from feeling so good.  He is an expert in fitness and health and this will help me to reach my goals.  I am still losing a pound a week on the Body For Life Program and have lost 30 pounds since we started in June.  This has improved the way I feel a great deal as well.  Because of the all over healing experience that we can offer people by his medical abilities and by the bonding with nature that WildLife on Easy Street offers we hope to create a place where people can come to heal body and spirit.  I have set up a web page, linking to his web site, until we can do the ground work here to make that happen.   Return_To_Eden    http://www.wildlifeeasyst.com/return%20to%20eden.htm

 

Daniel Capiro just walked through and said to say hello to you too.  "

 

Dear Peter,

 

Alan is a gentle person, but curiosity may get the better of him and it wouldn't surprise me at all if he were to call you or email you from your web site.  He's not a bad person, he just wasn't the right person.

 

On this other matter, I had wished to talk with you about it last night, but you fell asleep.  Again, this morning, I woke up at six and thought it better to say this to you in person, but you had a hard time waking up after working so hard.  I did not wish to talk about anything unpleasant while sticking needles in you and certainly don't want to discuss it tonight while you are sticking them in me.  It is small thing, and probably just a lack of understanding between us.  I know that your heart is in the right place and that it is not your intention to impose, and more than that, I recognize that you want to help someone else.

 

I would not pay someone 30.00 and hour to work in my yard.  I would not pay two people 40.00 per hour to do it either.  I invest in things that will earn a return on the investment.

 

As long as I can get my truck from the gate to the carport, I will pretty much ignore the yard.  Alan Schreier was paying someone 125.00 per month to keep it mowed and I thought that was a lot.  I had planned to pay one of my volunteers minimum wage to keep it mowed.  My dad does it for free.

 

I offered the work to you, at your 29.00 per hour rate, because I love you and wanted you to be able to earn a living without having to deal wit

Writing From the Future With Evidence From 1996-1997

I am writing this on 12/18/2020 because I have been researching all of the files from 1996-1997 involving Don Lewis.  I have placed it here, on the day of his disappearance, because all of it transpired prior to this day, and in some cases, where documents are not dated, I don’t have a better guess.  I think this will explain the last thing Don Lewis apparently said to Kenny Farr, which was, “If I pull this off, it will be the slickest thing I ever did!”

This story goes a long way back, but it’s pretty interesting and gives great insight as to the kind of persons that Don and Joe were and what was happening right as Don disappeared.  To the best of what I can find in my files and online, Don and I bought 11509 Sligh Avenue, Tampa, FL on 7/18/90 at a foreclosure or tax deed sale.  It had been a cock fighting ring and Don wanted me to convert it to a women’s mud wrastlin’ [sic] pit.  I refused and Don sold it on a lease option to Joe Ryan.  (Joseph George Ryan SS# 436)  On 5/31/1994 Lazy Days RV Center, Inc., brought suit against Don and Joe for specific performance in case 94-CA-003672 for the sale of this property.  

 

The following is based on what Don told me and some of the evidence I have found, including Joe Ryan’s deposition in 98-7799-F where he sued the Conservatorship for more money after already having been paid $70,000 for a property he never owned, to settle the Lazy Days case.   Don sold the property to Joe Ryan on a lease option whereby Joe would pay $5000. of the taxes on the property and a monthly lease fee and if he made 12 on time we would deed the property to him and take back a mortgage.  Joe Ryan’s depo says he was buying it from us for $50,600.00 on time.

 

We already knew Joe Ryan wasn’t good for his word because he had a similar agreement with Don on the “Seffner farm” property where Don had carved out a parcel and on the lake and Joe was building his dream home, but fell on hard times financially and never got past the inner studs of the house inside its shell.  We took that property back and the house was later demolished in 2006 by the new owners who turned the Seffner farm into a subdivision.  

 

Lazy Days wanted to build their huge RV center in the area and sent out scouts to buy up the little lots without letting anyone know who the real buyer was to keep the prices low.  They offered Joe more money than he owed us so he signed an agreement to sell to them at a price of $60k, I believe, based on Joe Ryan’s deposition.  After agreeing to the sale amount by contract, Joe Ryan discovered the buyer was Lazy Days and Joe thought he could get a lot more for the property if he could get Don Lewis to nix the deal by showing what was true: Joe Ryan didn’t own the property yet because he had not been making his payments and was in default.  

 

Don then apparently went to Lazy Days and offered to sell it to them for $225,000.00 but he told Joe Ryan that he only got $131,000.00 from it so he wouldn’t have to honor his agreement (which the deposition implies was signed by Anne McQueen, not Don, but Joe Ryan said Anne signed Don’s name all the time on things)  to give Joe Ryan everything above $60,000.00 that he would get from the sale.  The way Don was scheming to do this without Joe Ryan knowing what the real sales price had been was to sell the property to WITCO which was a corporation Don set up in Costa Rica.  Then WITCO would do the transaction with Lazy Days after Joe Ryan thought the property had changed hands and he was getting the excess proceeds based on what he said Don had told him and Anne had signed with him. 

 

The way Don was getting $94,000.00 more than what Joe Ryan knew about was that Don had written into the agreement with Lazy Days that in addition to the $131,000.00 they would have to make a payment of 94k to Wildlife on Easy Street, Inc., as his “charity of choice”  and they agreed.  I can’t find how much we paid for the pr