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1988, A Time of Despair.

March of Dimes Race car at a Car Show in Mt. Vernon Illinois.
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No where to go, no place to live.
Personal notes of the Webmaster, C. Jeff Dyrek. 
in the  YellowAirplane
  Museum.

What is the definition of Despair.  There are times of despair where hope is the only remains of all works and the look for a good news day sprawls years away.

I'm very sorry but despair is real and it affects many people world wide.  No matter how good you feel yourself, or how healthy you think another person looks, you don't know the meaning of despair until you experience the feeling of no hope: The feeling of years of continuous pain that never goes away: The feeling that a better day is just a quote that is read in a book, and reality only remains in a book that you were lucky enough to have just read.  In the following Exhibit Section you will see what years of despair can do to a person.

The truth is the only hope that I have comes from a course that  I took which was written by E. Joseph Cossman. Books from E. Joseph Cossman

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Exhibit Webmasters Story

 

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These problems were making it necessary for me to either lay down or sit, laid way back, in an office chair, with my feet on the desk and a keyboard in my lap, for most of my life, so I was therefore unable to work at a regular job. 

I was always in real bad pain. When I ate, I would commonly have the problem of getting food stuck in my esophagus.  To relieve this sticking, I would have to throw up two to three times a day to get the food dislodged.  Believe me, this was not an easy process where I would throw up once and my esophagus was cleared and  the problem was over.  Instead it was a very painful process of repeatedly drinking large quantities of water and then sticking my finger down my throat to bring everything up.  This was very painful and has many times left me laying on the ground for hours where I absolutely couldn't get up.

 

In 1988 I was placed on Disabled Retirement from the Sacramento Army Depot.  I sat at home for nine months before I received the first payment from my insurance program the Civil Service Retirement System, CSRS.  This payment delay placed me into a super terrible financial disaster.  I had to sell everything that I owned, at only pennies on the dollar, just so I could pay my bills. 

To Make things worse I was still having the severe eating disorders and the internal problems that put me into retirement in the first place. 

As a friend once told me, "I was a basket case."  The truth is that I really felt that I wasn't going to live much longer.

It's a good thing that I was also business owner for most of my life.  I've been partners in motorcycle shops, had a multi-level business almost twenty years and just basically, I always had things going.  

It finally came to the point that I had to sell my house to keep from going into foreclosure.  If you are into Real Estate, this is where the Motivated Seller comes from.  I was now one of those motivated sellers.  In fact, I was so motivated that I had to sell my house at $30,000 under market value or I would lose it by the time the very next payment became due.

I didn't know what I was going to do or, really, where I was going to go either.  I was feeling real bad and, as I have already said, I felt like I was going to die.  The thoughts that kept going through my mind was to drive to the eastern parts of the Mt. Shasta area and just die in the woods and let my dog survive on his own.  That's how bad it really was.

I haven't heard from my brother, Jerry, in about ten years and here he calls me up right when I was needing someone.  He knew that I was hurt (disabled) and that I had financial problems as a result of my retirement mess.  He said that he would buy my Cadillac and then let me stay in his house since he was the communications officer on the Arco Texas Oil Tanker and he had to be  out to sea most of the time, all I would have to do was deliver the car. 

I brought the car across the country along with my cat Spuds and dog Mackenzie.  We did a lot of driving covering many miles in each day.   The first night we stayed on the Bonneville Salt flats in my little tent.  Mackenzie wanted to run but my cat Spuds wouldn't leave the car.  As a matter of fact she wouldn't eat or hardly drink anything either.  I thought that it was the new environment or something.  The second night we stayed near Bushnell Nebraska at a rest area.  And on the third night we drove to my brothers house in Washington Iowa.  He had to go back out to sea for a short time so he gave me $1000 down for the car and promised to give the remaining $4000 when he returned and I was completely moved into his house.  He made me sign a receipt that he paid only $1000 for the car, for tax purposes, or he wouldn't give me the money at all.  He also knew that if I didn't have that money or I couldn't get back home or make my last payment on the house.  This is what is called putting me between a rock and a hard place, so I had to sign the paper.

So, he went back to sea and I brought my dog and cat to live at my mom's house in Bushnell, Illinois.  I then drove the car back to Iowa, dropped off the car, and caught a plane back to Sacramento.  Here I made my final payment on the house and moved almost everything that I had left into storage in Sacramento.  My house finally closed and it was time for me to move.

I left Sacramento into the mountains and drove up Hwy. 395, north of Lake Tahoe.  The scenery was absolutely fantastic.  Just before I left Sacramento, my friend, Bob, signed me us as an Energy Release distributor and gave me an eight pack of Energy Release too.  Because of this additive, my van kept running better and better and the longer I drove it the better it ran still.  Also, the longer that I drove, the better I noticed that I felt too. 

On my first night after driving, I was sleeping at a turnoff next to the road.  In the middle of the night I heard some noise and noticed that the van was shaking.  At that time I owned a gun and I stuck a .357 Magnum barrel into some jerks nose.  He turned around very quickly, jumped into his Camero and burned a lot of rubber getting himself out of there as fast as he could.

On the second day of the trip, I headed farther north to Alturus California to see my old friend and customer Bob Moore.  Bob ran an air charter service in Alturus using a Cessna P210 Centurion Aircraft which I used to work on back when I worked at Patterson Aircraft Company.   When I got to Alturus I heard some terrible news and  found out that Bob had recently died.  After asking a few more questions, I was told not to try to contact his wife because she was still taking it so badly that I would only make it worse. 

My trip continued north until I got to Bend Oregon then headed east toward Boise Idaho.  The longer I drove, the better I felt.  I felt better because I was getting out of the high stress of the City of Sacramento and getting out of the high allergy area as well.  My drive continued through Yellowstone National Park then to Mt. Rushmore National Park. 

During my visit to the Mt. Rushmore Visitors Center,  I met a man named Eugene Kovineg who was the Chairman of the Hall of Records Committee.  He showed me the reproduction of the true Hall of Records that is located behind the heads on Mt. Rushmore.  I had some pretty impressive camera equipment which does a lot of speaking for itself, but I was thinking a about what the Joe Cossman courses that taught me, there's a product everywhere, you just have to be able to see it.  So it went through my head, "Here's a New Product, this is a perfect story"  We continued to talk and we came to the agreement that when I returned I could go up to the real Hall of Records and photograph it.  I wrote everything into my notebook then headed on toward my brothers house.    

Along this driving adventure, there was something very interesting that I have never noticed before.  When I was in the Sacramento area, the writing on the restroom walls was incredibly filthy.  As I drove toward Northern California, the filthy language on the walls went away.  As I drove east and got close to Iowa City, the bad language returned again then disappeared when I drove further to Illinois.  Further along in this story you will see I finally moved to Kentucky.  The reason that I picked Kentucky was because on the bathroom wall it said, "God Loves and Jesus Saves." 

Read the Webmasters Story Here.

Watch this short video, What the Webmaster Looks Like in 1997, A Shocker.


 

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