I don’t know how I kept my composure. I suppose I disassociated. I may have seemed there, proud, once proud and confident about life, to all those people in that hall. I was a professional. I was fastidious about my duties in life – as a mother, a wife, a human citizen. I respected my place life had given me deeply. I did – until that 5 day episode, when everything changed forever. The challenge now and here, however, is to tell this story, this truth – and involve myself as little as possible, and that is the great hardship I face writing these words.
It was 19 years ago, and time has played a strange trick. Something stopped living in life for me that week, and a vacuum has sucked from me 19 years as the twilight itself has demanded that I am neither among the living nor the dead. Today, however, I am stepping my foot into the life of the living so I can speak for those tiny voices who have long been in the world of the dead. One often hears “A dead man cannot speak”. Does one ever ask can a child speak? Can the children speak? Yes, they can, and they are speaking right now, right here and now to you through these words. They will be silenced no more. They ask all of you to hear them, to hear what happened to them. They ask as any child would, with utter innocence. So we must all hear them together, all of us who are living. It is time.
What we now call North America and Canada were once called – not long ago, Turtle Island. I know this sounds crazy to a lot of you, most of you. But the United Nations knows it. Washington knows it. The Catholic Church knows it. The Freemasons and all the other Brotherhoods know it. Most of all the Jesuits know it. The conquerors know it well. This is Turtle Island, and as the Peoples of this land, who are of it and from it and an inseparable part of it will tell you, we all walk on the dust of their Ancestors. And this dust is unsettled, unlike the frontier. It is not settled at all. The dust is a spiritual thing, a metaphysical thing and it cannot be settled by any settling ethic, especially while it cries red tears of tiny voices, clay and mud tears – tears of terror, shattered trust. These are very tiny voices whispering in the dust, pleading with us, a clarion call to our humanity. This is the moment for them, a giant step we have to take together for them. We must.
They once sang little songs in languages long lost. Some of them had time for joy and life before this big dark. They had parents they cherished and aunties and uncles, grandmas and grandpas who told them the stories and held them as sacred. Their lives were as credible as yours and mine, but a destiny was befalling them that stole their time. In Canada it was U Boats and Mounties that came for them. Here in North America it was that Calvary, the Blue Coats, the soldiers. But for the purpose of this writing I am limited to the story of Canada, which was also called Grandmother’s Land.
The boarding or residential school programs had been set up by the Catholic Church and its affiliates in Canada and North America as the crucial step in genocide. In fact, this tactic of destruction to otherwise indestructible Peoples was so effective after the turn of the century that Hitler himself studied the US and Canadian Government tactics to pursue his policies of extermination, experimentation and torture to the peoples he deemed undesirables for existence. So it is noted that especially in 30’s, 40’s and 50’s there were often German speaking men involved in the kidnapping and torture of First Nations children (and the Native children in North America). German soldiers were involved in rounding them up, in their kidnappings, as ‘doctors’ in the schools, as ‘administrators’ and as ‘principles’. In fact though, they were rapists, pedophiles, torturers and mass murderers, along with their colleagues from this side of the Atlantic. They worked closely with the Jesuit priests and nuns in the unadulterated mass murder, torture and on-going sexual predation to wholesale generations of Native children – and the establishment of trafficking and pedofile rings as well as body desposal systems throughout both lands, north and south of the ‘border’.
Rudy and Diana James were more than associates to my husband and me. They were not just colleagues, they were our brother and our sister. They sent the Feather as it was called, the Feather to appear as Jurors to the first ever Tribunal to be held on behalf of the United Nations that was to hear the testimony of the survivors of the Residential School Program in Canada. The official name of this Tribunal was The Northwest Tribunal, held in Vancouver, in June 1998. It was a precedent on two fronts. It was the first Tribunal to be heard regarding genocide to First Nations Peoples in Canada, but it was more than that. As stated above, it was about the systematic wholesale kidnapping of approximately six generations of children, aged 4 and up to 18, across an entire continent who were then thrust into these ‘boarding schools’ across the country, and is the story of their genocide in those ’schools’. This story is about the genocide not to grown up people (which has been ongoing to this day since Columbus got lost), but to children – hostages locked up in extremely creepy large brick remote buildings, often on unescapable islands. It is the story of murder and cruelty beyond imagination. It is the story of ritual killing. And with this story comes the truth and evidence of the use of those children for child trafficking and pedophilia as well. It is not just PizzaGate, it is CanadaGate and NorthAmericaGate. And it has been neatly swept under the carpet of history until today. It is only because of PizzaGate that I can cry out and finally ask all of you to hear these tiny voices of the dust.
When I met my husband I was on my 15th year of an illustrious and successful career as a photojournalist, having been based out of Singapore for 10 of those years. I had worked for global press including The New York Times, The London Times, The South China Sea Morning Post, The Miami Herald, The Bangkok Post and magazines around the world. At the time of the Tribunal I was pursuing my Masters Degree in Transpersonal Psychology in a program in Boulder Colorado. These were my credentials. My husband, Oglala Lakota from the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, was the most stunning man I had ever met..a leader. He was articulate, informed, educated, passionate and beloved by his People and his Elders. He had started not just a sobriety movement on the reservation, but THE sobriety movement at 18. He had captured the imagination of Peter Jennings, who gave him Best Young Man of America Award on National Television in 1982 for his work with the youth at the now famous Yellow Thunder Camp in the Black Hills after the Wounded Knee conflict. His eloquence and his intellectual clarity and his dedication regarding every part of his People’s struggle and the about the plight of Indigenous Peoples in the Western Hemisphere were his credentials. Or in his words, having been born an Indian in the 20th Century were his crime and his credentials.
An Elder from the Pacheedaht Nation of now British Columbia, Harriet Nahanee…https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harriet_Nahanee had formed a group of survivors from the Residential School Program called the Circle of Justice in Vancouver in the mid 1990’s. It was from this forum that the formal request was sent to Rudy James, Tlingit Elder, expert in International Law and Liaison to the NGO IHRAAM (International Human Rights Association for American Minorities), which gave access to the Floor of the Sub-Committee on Human Rights to hold the Tribunal. At this juncture it is safe to say (and with a great great deal of hindsight), intelligence agencies from both Canada and the US were on high alert and forming infiltration tactics and personnel with tremendous force and focus – aimed right at that Tribunal and the complete and utter sabotage of it. These efforts were highly complex so as to confuse the world for decades utterly and completely – to obscure any truth coming from the survivors and those that gave their testimonies to the 30 Jurors (assembled from around the world), and especially involving two men in particular (who were both ‘involved’ in the Tribunal). I shall leave these duplicitous and vile creatures unnamed, for unlike the children of the dust, they have no song – and they deserves no names. I will say that their names dominated this history and its narrative since 1998 and the Tribunal – not any names of First Nations children, or their true stories. I will also say that these creatures, these two non-Indian men, became permanent fixtures of terror in and my husband’s and my life, and the life of my small precious family.
It is important to note here that I am non-Indian from the East Coast and by that time my husband I were the proud parents of two small boys. Our sons are half Lakota, half white, and are federally enrolled in the Oglala Sioux Tribe (The Lakota Nation). The day we got back from the Tribunal in June 1998, the horror of our lives began. I refer to it as the full blown military campaign from hell with everything but the tanks. It was later deemed by Steven Segal’s bodyguards (both Delta Force of the US Special Forces, or JSOC) that the situation on and around our mountain property above Boulder was in their words “ the highest level surveillance system on planet Earth at that time”. They indicated that we had dedicated satellites on us and our property that were part of Signals Intelligence (SIGINT) and Human Intelligence (HUMINT), and there were 5 large unmarked RV’s that were ‘listening posts’ parked in a 7 mile radius around our property for approximately three years. Sometimes as many as 10 extremely low helicopter flyover’s a day was normal right over our roof, with huge telephoto lenses sticking out the open doors, 50 feet over our heads snapping away. These were often Apache helicopters, or unmarked helicopters. Non-stop SUV’s roamed the neighborhood for three years with men in suits wearing wires behind their sunglasses. Sometimes we had camouflage jeeps try to drive us off the rural roads, men on the property at night, tampering with vehicles was normal and death threats from all kinds of old ‘friends’ of my husband’s and other strange and random ‘acquaintances’. An army of people came into our lives, posing as friends and to this day I can honestly say that not one human being involved with my dear tiny family was not a Federal Agent or an Intelligence Personnel with the CIA or the Joint Terrorism Task Force (JTTF/FBI) in disguise. This was just the beginning. By 2001, Jeffery Snow, the head of the FBI for Boulder advised us to flee the State. We did. Things just got worse – way worse- from there.
It was also common for famous people to show up to help us, some of whom my husband was already close to. Russell Means, Ward Churchill, correspondence from Leonard Peltier, as noted above Steven Segal, the strange and illustrious W. Lee Hill (who posed as our attorney and who was apparently murdered by the NSA…http://www.angelfire.com/planet/chriszack/and many others. The thing was we were involved with so many other immediate and nationally highlighted issues, for which Diana and I had always arranged press between our contacts in New York and Los Angeles with the likes of CNN, Fox News, The New York Times etc, not just the local press, that Royce and I were utterly unsure as to what was the real cause of the targeting from our government. For him, this came with the territory of being in a leadership position with The American Indian Movement, he thought. We thought. But then again..did it?? We were so much in shock from it all we could not properly assess what was going on, when we arrived home to Boulder after the Tribunal. After all only a year later in 1999 was the famous Camp Justice situation in Pine Ridge, where Royce was asked to personally meet with then President Bill Clinton in Pine Ridge (along with the Elders and Chief Oliver Red Cloud), who had just flown in on Air Force One straight from Bosnia, as late as it was in that genocide for personal profit (and surely leaving Hillary behind under artillery fire yet). This was due to the ever ongoing serial killing of Indians on the reservations in North and South Dakota by the white bordering State Sheriffs – grandparents, children, war veterans, anyone and everyone was targeted for murder by dismemberment and stabbings, especially in Pine Ridge (89 people that year alone). This no doubt set up the pretext for the illegal black market in uranium being stolen from the stolen land of the Oglala Lakota to be used on the Nations of the Middle East to be the real reason for the visiting President. And as timing would have it, I was in the process of being expelled from Naropa University, five and a half years into my program there with a 4.0 grade average, bearing two babies along the way, for having finally taken a stand I was asked to by the Elders of Pine Ridge, regarding the unbridled theft and fraud going on at Naropa of their spirituality and culture. At one frozen moment I turned to my husband in all of this and fumbled, “Now I see why you call this a struggle”….
Rudy and Diana had informed us after the Tribunal that none of the Jurors would be sending any findings to them to present on the Floor of the UN in Geneva. (Like me, Diana was non-Indian, and was Rudy’s life mate and a highly efficient administrator for his vast works for Native Peoples.) They had told us that all the Jurors were threatened off from writing any findings, or simply gave no reason as to why they would not be sending in findings. I had been intimidated myself during the Tribunal by certain men that were said to be ‘goons’ that worked for the Churches that ran the schools (the most recent body was found in 1986 on the grounds of one of the schools), and the RCMP (who ran quite a cover-up for the Church, and the Government of Canada) made themselves very evident at the Tribunal to me. They would sit in the front rows in front of us – the line of Jurors – and I certainly got stared at in a manner that left me beyond unease. It was not these men who accosted me however, for I was outright accosted. It was the men I spoke of above… the two men that posed as champions of the issue ( again both white) and one of them went so far as to claim he was a Blackfoot ‘Elder’ from North America and was somehow a very white man at the same time. A closer study of him over recent years has left me with no doubt that he is a very high level Department of Justice employee (in other words the very high ranks of the FBI) for I have been being trailed by the Department of Justice IP web addresses for years, and he is in close proximity with our intelligence agencies. The other is a hoaxster, a fraud and worse I suspect. Where the latter has gone over the years, the very survivors that gave testimony have a strange way of being murdered while in his company. Worse yet, he has some alarming affiliations with traffickers and known serial killers of Native women, and the current ‘dissappeared’ (see Highway to Hell, Canada’s story of Missing Indigenous Women)…including Native children, especially from the downtown Eastside Vancouver , as it’s known (the inner city of Vancouver where homeless and vulnerable Native women and children end up in prostitution rings and worse). Again, I leave these ghosts unnamed for they are not worth having the voice they have stolen from the children I speak of from Grandmother’s Land.
The testimony of the survivors, mostly very elderly people, put me into that shock I spoke of above, landing me in between the place where living and dead is unclear. I had no idea what I was in for. There are no words to describe what I saw, heard and bore witness to over the three days of testimony. I am still in shock at this writing and finally seeking professional help for trauma from those three days, from those amazing noble people who often broke during their testimony. I have never seen a condition of human ‘brokenness’ that broken until those three days. They were telling the stories of their childhoods in those schools. They were the survivors…speaking for themselves and for all their dead siblings and relatives and best friends who did not make it out alive.
As we continued to be such a high level priority target of the US Government over the course of the following 19 years, until currently, I was unable to synthesize properly their stories, or mine. The shock from the testimonies was one thing, but the ensuing twilight we had to survive day in and day out since, with endless murders along the way of just about everyone involved in this Tribunal was another. Diana and Harriet both died under more than suspicious circumstances in the same month, 2007. These two women were both subsequently murdered – Harriet’s death a more obvious murder by the State of Canada as per her Wiki page. What is not said on the Wiki page is that she was thrown into a jail cell in the most northern reaches of Canada in sub-zero temperatures with no heat or blanket as an elderly woman for the time she was incarcerated for protecting Squamish Land. Diana’s murder passed in relative anonymity, her husband’s reputation all but effectively destroyed by alphabet agencies and those two white men I speak of after the Tribunal. Rudy has never been the same, and I have not talked to him in years, since his beloved Diana’s death. He has dropped off the map, much like me and my husband, who himself is a boarding school survivor and receiving far more the brunt of terror than me in all of this, and is on his third suicide attempt at this writing. Of course he and I have also buried the usual scores and scores of personal family members of our 26 year marriage, babies included. At any funeral he will sound the whispered grief …”successful genocide”…
It was only when PizzaGate in October was a breaking story that I had an event occur that happens, I have learned, with trauma victims. A frozen memory became thawed to living life. As my husband had been part of The American Indian Movement and had survived the second Wounded Knee in South Dakota in the early 1970’s, and known as The Reign of Terror on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, we had never fully understood what we had done or why this Counter Intelligence nightmare was launched on us. Of course one will see on the internet The American Indian Movement labeled as a terrorist organization – or as those murdering terrorists (exactly as the State Department and the White House defends ISIS and Al Qaeda as the heroic and moderate rebels while claiming with fake news it is the ‘murdering Syrian Arab Army aligned with the murderous Assad that are the criminals and terrorists’…oh, and don’t forget those Russians). I know it sounds crazy that I never believed it all was because of our participation in the Tribunal, but that was part of the complex web of counter realities that had been established to confuse all involved to the point of mind melt, post Tribunal. It was very clever, very evil and very effective. It did indeed tie us up between daily survival for 19 years and the constant current of non-realities and non-truths that we had to battle constantly. We therefore never spoke of the children, or what had in fact occurred at those schools of horror for over a century in any official way, or even privately. And unbelievably, I had somehow forgotten, frozen out, the most critical detail of all. I did send my findings. I wrote and sent my findings and put them into the hands of Rudy and Diana James in July 2000 as they left from our house to board the flight to Geneva – without me (for I had just been kidnapped). I SENT MY FINDINGS TO THE UNITED NATIONS ! And I was the sole Juror to do so (and on behalf of Royce, my husband). The confusion and disinformation campaign by the two white men I speak of who shall remain unnamed for they do not deserve names, or dust, was THAT effective (and they had virtual armies behind them, which has later come to light).
Two things happened on that October day in 2016 during PizzaGate. The first was when I opened a link to a Daily Mail story, “EXCLUSIVE: Fully-equipped dentist chair, close-ups of young girls’ backsides and a teddy by his bed: Creepy images and video from inside the mansion of Clinton and Prince Andrew friend, pedophile Jeffrey Epstein”, http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3688656/A-fully-equipped-dentist-s-chair-close-photos-young-girls-backsides-eerie-images-videotaped-walk-billionaire-pedophile-Jeffrey-Epstein-s-Florida-mansion.html#ixzz4s8QKSbDK regarding the arrest of Jeffery Epstein. It was both in the headlines and in the pictures. The now way too familiar reactions began: the thundering in my chest, extremities going numb, harried breath and sense of panic, the swelling of ancient grief choked up and buried inside… As I scrolled down the pages of pictures online, I stopped and froze at the one of his bathroom in his Palm Beach estate. It was the dentist chair. The dentist chair. It’s as though time carried me back without any time at all, to the first Elder giving testimony in 1998…of the dentist chair in the basement of the school in Kuper Island (see Findings below). It got worse as more came forward, others from Kuper Island as well as other schools, with more stories of the dentist chair. I leave it to this good audience to connect the dots between our Elite in Washington and Palm Beach with convicted pedophile and child trafficker Jeffery Epstein, and the stories and testimonies I bore witness to about the dentist chair in the basement of Kuper Island. Many children don’t leave those dentists chairs alive, and I suppose if they do leave alive, they wish they were dead.
The FBI tells us they have no idea what a dentist chair is doing in Jeffery Epstein’s bathroom in Palm Beach. I cannot believe this statement by the FBI. They know damn well what the dentist chair is doing in relation to pedophilia. They just don’t want us, the public, to know. But I know. I heard from those old and noble and broken Elders and elderly in Canada sitting at the witness table in front of the Jurors, what happened in that dentist chair – to them, and their little friends and siblings and other relatives. I don’t know of anyone else who does know among the public, or who will come forward and discuss the relationship between pedophilia and the dentist chair. So after sitting in one severe long episode of PTSD (now finally diagnosed) for two straight months, I am here to bring forward the horrible truth about pedophilia and the dentist chair. Whether it was the 30’s in Kuper Island, or the 90’s in Palm Beach, it is about the most bizarre and most inhumane form of human torture, and horrific rape, to children that ‘they’ can dream up. Combining torture with rape apparently brings ecstatic highs to the pedophile.
As I sat in that long familiar frozen zone pondering the dentist chair that day, I awakened. I awakened finally. I had buried the memory that I was indeed the only Juror that wrote and sent my findings, tucked into Diana’s safe hands that day in July 2000…to go to Geneva. I had truly forgotten. Not only that, but they have remained well buried in my files and personal life until this writing. I am not saying that Camp Justice or Naropa or having Russell Means in and out of our home for three years, threatening to national press to ‘occupy Naropa’ did not cause us some problems. But this kind of problem? That we have just survived ? The highest level surveillance and intimidation program on planet Earth at the time, and still ongoing…? The Findings, my Findings, the only Findings, are printed out for the world to finally see below. (Please note that the numbers provided by me in these Findings of the child attendees and dead in the schools, both, were provided by white academia at the time of the Tribunal and are highly suspect due to the obvious under-reporting relative to the population of the First Nations during the 19th and 20th centuries. These numbers by any logic should be vastly higher.)
Finally, what I wish to inform the readers here and all those who are standing for humanity after this election and are feeling the same hope I am for the stand we have just taken against the very globalists that bring us the wonders of pedophilia in the first place – we all are, as truth shines to light: I must now tell you all that while the survivors that gave their testimonies, almost each and every one of them, approached me privately and confided in me of the ‘disappeared’. The disappeared referred to here, were not those buried in mass graves, or lonely unmarked graves (often buried alive by their own siblings under threat of being pushed in), or pushed into the furnaces, or buried under the school floor boards or in the barns or in the walls alive or dead by priests and nuns of those creepy buildings often on unescapable islands…but the ones that were taken by the men of power and wealth that would regularly visit those schools. Beloved siblings, cousins, best friends…taken and never to be seen again, first through the schools and later through Child Protective Services (in more recent history and still ongoing). We know. They know. You know now. CanadaGate. NorthAmericaGate. Our Native children by the hundreds of thousands, right up to the present moment.
It was told to me that exotic children, Indian children, fetch a far higher price per times per day by Western men than western children. It was told to Rudy James by a reputable judge from Boulder Colorado that the central rings came through Boulder and connected with Vancouver through California and Washington State..for trans Pacific trafficking and vise versa. They service our politicians, our corporate heads, our military leaders and our priesthoods – who began the whole thing thousands of years ago if one has the courage to engage in this study. They become the Jesuits who attempted to rape to death the First Nations children of Canada and North America and steal their voices from the dust upon which we walk – that unsettled dust.
My name is Lydia White Calf and I am still afraid but will no longer be silenced. I am a friend to the untold numbers whose voices I hear pleading with me to tell their story. Help me hear them and sing to them softly that in the hearing we can face ourselves as a humanity and that one day this dust will find rest on their land where we all live. Help me sing not just their dust to calm but those who have met the similar fate from our Ancestry, our own children. There may be no way to bring the monsters behind this unsettled dust to justice but for all of us to stand in truth to light as one human family and tell the truth. It is time. Tiny voices, big dust.
“ What I would like to see is people with [traditional] knowledge to teach the small, little people how to grow up with pride. This generation is lost. My generation is lost − they’re assimilated. They don’t think like an Indian. What I’d like to see is our five-year-olds being taught their language, their songs, their games, their spirituality, their Indian, eh, their Indian-ness. I’d like to ask all the people out there to reclaim their culture − practice it, teach the children, and let’s reclaim our backbone, our culture and put some pride in our children.
Harriet Nahanee ”
By Lydia White Calf and On Behalf Of Royce White Calf