Monday, June 6, 2011

HE CANNOT REST IN PEACE

Samuel Wolkoff- June 6th forever etched in my soul. My father was gruesomely murdered on this day many years ago, at the age of 42. I was 10 years old. 

Certain facts in this blog post and also in the book "Blood Relation" have been deliberately edited to protect myself and others. To learn more information from the book, YOU CAN CLICK ON THIS LINK, and also CLICK ON THIS LINK.

Cause of death, 5 hours of tortured Murder By Strangulation. Hold your breath for as long as you can, then wait 40 more seconds, exhale, that will give you a tiny sense of the horrific way my father felt for 5  consecutive hours, a rope tied as a noose, was alternately tightened, then loosened around his neck, while his hands were tied behind his back. Death, when it finally came, must have been a merciful release for him.

The autopsy showed that my father struggled so bravely to live, that his eyeballs eventually burst, and he finally stopped breathing. His body then deposited at a desolate gas station, in the middle of the night, thrown out onto the ground, as a piece of garbage. Hold that entire scene in your mind forever, it is I can assure gruesome, and haunting in its profoundly graphic endless replay, over and over in my mind.


Oh, as an aside, his sister learned about his murder on the radio news, she immediately dropped dead of a heart attack in front of her four children.

Justice not served, justice not given, nothing complicated, nothing new, an innocent, good person, a human life has always been cheap. I did the best I could to obtain that justice. My father's error that cost him his life? He  believed in trust, in the sense of obligation to very close members of his family, by giving them a chance to change their ways. The good deed he did, paid back by these very same, who had him murdered. Horrifically ugly, but brutally true, and they all got away with it, didn't bother any of them, never mattered to them.

The family never talked about it for 40 plus years, not even to speak my father's name, it is the taboo secret code followed by many families of victims, as if somehow, the unbearable pain would get less. I have spent most of my life investigating his case and eventually shared it with our family. Never have figured out if I did good or bad by reopening the wounds, but I do know, those are permanent gaping, seeping, toxic, painful holes, they never really were ever closed.

I have been doing more thinking than usual lately, not necessarily a good thing for me, as I yearn to be one of those who are able to practice the art of ignorance is bliss.

How can a loved one who dies suffering, rest in peace, ever? Seems like a simple thing to believe, say, and its even reduced to a short acronym, R.I.P., easy to write. I can't write it, not possible, not after all the never ending suffering of my father, and us.

For an ultra private person like me, a blog is obscenely public, personal, grossly revealing, definitely not my style, but  interestingly, momentarily cleansing, a way of coming out, being up front with unbearable realities, my reality. Mostly
I do it for those that can no longer speak for themselves, who experienced unimaginable suffering that ended their lives. In this moment, my father's reality.

I have absolutely no idea, not the slightest clue why over 3,200 people as of this date have viewed my blog. I am sometimes intrigued as to why and what would anyone want to obtain from my words that could bring them here. I see search terms on my blog from people who arrived looking for information about my father, a lot of other interesting search words.

Some of you are the cowardly, but powerfully connected scum bags who murdered my father, as well as those of you in arrogant, incompetent, corrupt law enforcement, whose agencies knowingly covered their asses, and in doing so, betrayed your sworn oaths to defend justice, by participating in covering up the truth, obstructing justice in this capital offense, which has no statute of limitations.

We all know each other, or about each other, you know I have hidden away safely the written confidential secret official documents with my honest law enforcement and political friends, the written proof of all the detailed real facts. Nothing to be concerned about, it will remain buried. We all know the deal that protects all of us, the reasons that nothing else has been done by any of us about my father's murder, the reason these documents will remain hidden, is the unspoken but very clear mutual understanding we all have forever, of don't ever again fuck with any of us, and in return, we won't fuck with any of you by making the real truth public.

The March continues, May/June are the busiest  months for me, I dread this time of the year, horrifically gruesome memories of human, innocent lives wasted. The rest of the year, the ever present Demons make sure we remember those, whose memories others have tried to erase, these are my family, they  were human beings who will never be forgotten, they lived and never deserved to die in such horribly suffering ways. 

Today we remember my courageous father. He is not resting in peace, that is certain.

Why? Why Him???

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LORD WITH PRAYER

Most of you know that I am not a believer in god. To each his/her own and you are welcome to believe in whatever you want, as long as it doesn't hurt someone else.

I like the quotes of certain people who I think spoke the truth. Many of them were musicians, who expressed their inner most feelings through their songs, words that spoke about real life. Frank Zappa, Jimi Hendrix, and Jim Morrison possessed a great deal of truth in what they said. Hendrix and Morrison died from drug overdoses, Zappa from prostate cancer. Their wisdom did not serve them well in keeping them alive, but organized religion doesn't have much of a successful record either.

With credit to Jim Morrison, whose music with the Doors was so far ahead of its time, incredibly, profoundly religious in words of truth, reality about life. I am caught in a time warp where these words by Morrison, describe my realities of why I have been publicly blogging, especially now, starting with my  annual "MARCH", in particular this year, first about my sister Iris.

For too long Victims have had and continue to have no rights. The right of expression of their own reality, feelings, thoughts, and the humanity of those they speak for are sacred, and not meant to be taboo because it may upset other people.

In particular, I was ashamed of my pain, hid it from the world, as if there was something wrong, dirty about it. Almost like my loved ones did something wrong to make others uncomfortable by my talking about memories of them. It was as if I wasn't supposed to talk about it, too sad, not happy thoughts. Even losing my mysterious bananas, funny stuff, was an admission of my weakness, but it fit in my Blog, so I wrote about it.

People have actually told me how they expect or want me to feel, some mean well, most are selfish, frightened, cruel and actually have gotten angry with me, even ended relationships, because I did not listen to them, expressed what I felt instead, did not measure up to their standards of the way they believe I should feel. 

Sure most of my posts are raw, ugly, but that doesn't make it untouchable to express reality. If people choose to flee from me because they cannot deal with this ugliness, that is their choice.Those few that stay are my righteous family members, friends,  loved ones who can understand.

Jim Morrison said it best:
“People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.”

Saturday, May 28, 2011

IRIS

The dreaded march of grief begins as it does each year at this time. More difficult than ever, filled with the aching of a lifetime beaten down into ever present, increasingly toxic, non stop demons, as each year passes. 

We planted these Iris flowers in the garden out front of my house when my sister Iris died. I liked the idea that they are perennials, each year flowering in all their beauty, now looking so alive on the yearly anniversary today of the day she died, after a courageous and anguished battle.
 

My sister Iris was full of life, insightful, sagely wise, and then she was gone, tragically, painfully, and irrevocably. She deserved so much better but it was not to be. Why her? Why??
 

My sister Iris was more beautiful in a million ways than these plants. I will miss you forever my dear sister Iris, but most of all I miss your caring love. I love you. Jerry



Thursday, May 5, 2011

Bananas-Day-o

In a ritual that I have repeated hundreds of times, today I stopped by the local neighborhood mom & pop fruit store. My usual purchases of apples, onions, OJ, and always the greenest bananas that I can find. I really hate just a few days after buying them when the yellow bananas get mushy and don't taste good, those little fruit flies multiplying by the second, flying all over the place, ugh.


Buying bananas is a science to me, some people excel at picking the best cantaloupes, honey dews or other fruits. My expertise is in selecting, detecting, inspecting the finest greenest bananas. I am the Juan Valdez of Banana pickers, you remember Juan, from those old coffee bean picker commercials on TV, only the best are selected by demanding experts, like us.


I even know where the owners secretly stash their green bananas because they have to efficiently as a business sell the bananas by rotating the too ripe bananas getting sold quickly and not get stuck with throwing them out, so there is also a science to their not putting the green bananas out too early for the customers to buy. It really is a complicated theory to understand, especially on weekends when no new shipments arrive. Never buy bananas on the weekend, they are old, and ready to rot.


If you ask them for green bananas, they will say they don't have any, but a few weeks ago I discovered their hiding place for the stash, hidden deeper than Bin Laden was. So I buy my stuff and also get 2 nice bunches of green bananas and go to the checkout. This really nice hard working kid, the owners son, does checkout and we always talk about sports, his store, the weather, whatever naturally comes to mind. Today he asked me about how the weather was outside, even though he is standing 3 feet from the outside door and window. I get the feeling that his family chains him to the checkout counter and even makes him hold in his bodily fluids until his shift is over, before they allow him to use the bath room. No doubt he is also watched by them through wireless video cameras. I never see him eat anything, no time off for breakfast, lunch, dinner. He is skinny as a rail, like a toothpick.


So I get home and put my purchases away but I only can find 1 bunch of bananas, where is the second bunch? We all have "senior moments" for a lot of different things, I can understand throwing your car keys in the garbage during one of those "moments", it happens, but how does one misplace a bunch of bananas?


You know the drill,"Oh Shit" while going through the shopping bags from the fruit store already in the garbage can, looking in the front and back floors of the car, retracing the steps taken once the bags entered the house. Strange, still no bananas, so the next step is always "if I were a (fill in the missing senior moment item) a bunch of bananas on the lam, where would I go to hide? It would be the most unlikely place that they would go to outsmart and torture ones search to find them. So I looked in the bathroom, my bed, a couple of other strange places, nothing found.


OK seriously, this is bothering me now, it's not like the end of the world but kind of embarassing to me, how does one lose a large bunch of at least 6 bananas. I figure surely the kid forgot to put them in my bag or I left a bag in the wagon by the store parking lot. Like I said these are green trophy bananas, I want them, I need them. So I quickly jump into my car, shoeless bare feet, wrong eyeglasses on, no drivers license and I put the pedal to the medal to go back to the store and reclaim my lost bananas before someone steals these prize bananas.


Great, my wagon is right where I left it in the parking lot and my Brooklyn automatic radar scans the wagon in a nano second before I am even out of the car, no bananas in the wagon. I go into the store and ask the nice kid "did I leave my bananas here at the check out counter, or do you have a magic trick that makes them disappear and can now make them reappear". The kid looks at me with a weird look and says no there are no bananas, he says that he remembers putting them in my bag with the apples. I look back at him with my own strange look, and say,"that is strange , I can't find the bananas I bought". We both then look silently at each other and I make a strategic withdrawal back to my car, hoping he doesn't think I am too crazy.


I know that I need to just retrace my steps again, also look in the most obvious places now, since often things will reappear right in front of ones eyes, that we didn't see the first time. Well I looked and looked, no bananas. Gone, that bothers me for an hour or so, or more. Well actually it still bothers me, I almost always solve these mysteries.


I imagine in my mind the kid munching on my bunch of green bananas, having a good time in enjoying my "gift", or someone immediately seeing the bag left in the wagon when I drove away and they are admiring this beautiful bunch of green bananas, on their counter at home, a lottery winner of the day for them.


I guess that this will get chalked up to one of those very mysterious forces of nature that we all encounter and cannot solve. I refuse to consider this as "my senior moment", this will go down as a "cold case" of petty larceny by banana stealing gypsies. I do know that I will now add bananas to my long list of things to check in the future before I leave a store, Bank, or anyplace.


The sun is now beginning to set as I look outside from the comfort of my  homes living room window, I hear myself humming softly a song from my youth, so many years ago,  but of course one of those "important" things still for no known reason remembered by me-It was sung by Harry Belafonte:
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home


Work all night on a drink of rum
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Stack banana till de morning come
Daylight come and me wan' go home


Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana
Daylight come and me wan' go home


Lift six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch
Daylight come and me wan' go home


Day, me say day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day
Daylight come and me wan' go home


Beautiful bunch of ripe (GREEN) banana
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Hide the deadly black tarantula
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Lift six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day, me say day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day
Daylight come and me wan' go home


Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Come, Mister tally man, tally me banana
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day-o, day-ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home
Day, me say day, me say day, me say day....ay-ay-o
Daylight come and me wan' go home


I am home and I still have 1 bunch of green, fresh bananas to tally man and eat.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Arrogance

This speaks for itself, sent to me today by someone dear to me in New Zealand. So grotesque that I hid it from my own children. It is about the truth of unlimited arrogance and inhumanity, ignoring the sanctity of a human being in a heartless, barbaric, inhumane way. They killed Steven in life, violated his dignity and sacredness in death, like he was a piece of garbage. They steal his life, violate his dignity, desecrate his body, and hide behind cowardice,with no accountability, no conscience for their behavior. They will do anything necessary to hide the truth. Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff was a human being, HE LIVED, WE LOVED HIM!

We know how to stand up to scum like you, understand very clearly that you will have to crush all of us before we stop fighting to obtain JUSTICE FOR STEVEN!


San Mateo County coroner sued by parents upset over handling of dead son's brain
Updated: 03/05/2011 06:50:44 AM PST

REDWOOD CITY -- Coroner Robert Foucrault is being sued by another family over the handling of their child's remains.


Jerald and Sandra Wolkoff, of New York, said the coroner allowed a person unaffiliated with the county agency to take tissue from the brain stem of their son Steven Wolkoff, according to a suit filed Feb. 24 in San Mateo County Superior Court.


They responded with "shock and horror" when they learned his tissue had been cut into pieces and analyzed without their consent, according to the complaint. They seek an unspecified amount of damages.


Foucrault, when reached by phone Friday, said his office has done nothing wrong, and he was surprised to learn of the complaint. "My office and the county did everything according to law," he said. "We did everything proper."


Chief Deputy County Counsel Lee Thompson declined to comment Friday because he said his office had not yet been served with the suit.


The Wolkoffs are the second set of parents in recent years to sue Foucrault over the handling of their child's remains. Selina Picon, of Daly City, claimed the coroner illegally kept the heart of her 23-year-old son, Nicolas, after an autopsy. That suit was thrown out last May by the California 1st District Court of Appeal, which ruled she hadn't proved the Coroner's Office was obligated to get her consent to keep the organ. The state Supreme Court has declined to review that decision.

Wolkoff 30, died in a car crash in June 2008 in a car crash in June 2008 on Highway 1 near Pescadero and was autopsied by the San Mateo County Coroner's Office. 

Some of Wolkoff's brain tissue was kept after the procedure, but the family was notified of it. After Picon's suit was filed, Foucrault had adopted a policy of informing families when body parts are kept.

About a year after his death, Wolkoff's parents filed a lawsuit that claimed numerous people and agencies had been responsible. Among the defendants was American Medical Response, a company that contracts with San Mateo County to provide ambulance service.

As part of the company's response to the Wolkoff's first lawsuit, it hired Quest Discovery Services to collect evidence for the case. A Quest pathologist got Foucrault's permission to take some samples of Wolkoff's brain tissue.

The man's parents argue this violates state law, which they say prevents a coroner from turning over body parts to someone who is not a coroner for research.

The tissue, according to the suit, was taken not for the purpose of determining the cause of death, but to use it as part of the litigation, which violates "an obligation to protect the dignity of the human body in it's final disposition."

The Wolkoffs claim it was only by accident that they discovered their son's tissue had been taken. One of Foucrault's pathologists, during a deposition as part of the earlier lawsuit, disclosed that the body parts had been turned over to the pathologist working for the ambulance company.

Contact Joshua Melvin at 650-348-4335.

Friday, January 21, 2011

The Wall and Why?

Isaiah 13:11- god said-I will punish the world for its evil, the wicked for their sins.
  
Yom Kippur-The Day of Atonement-The Book of Life is sealed by god determining who shall live and who shall die in the coming year based on their good deeds and their bad deeds.

There is NO such thing as Justice - In or Out of Court- Clarence Darrow.
 
On June 21, 2008, my wonderful, full of life 30 year old son, Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff was horrifically killed at the age of 30 by incompetent para medics, a California State System of dysfunctional Agencies, a corrupt legal system that provides no rights for victims to obtain justice, a DUI driver, who had no drivers license and did not care about another persons life, a defective medical device, and the actions, inaction's of numerous uncaring others. 

Steven is dead forever, yet as we seek to obtain Justice For Steven, those that killed him are not content with their evil deeds, they will not rest, nor will they stop at any point of this process, until they are successfully able to escape any responsibility on their part for causing his painful, horrific death, even trying to erase that Steven ever lived, that he was a human being. They use their money, and power to insure that there will be no justice for Steven, no accountability for their stealing his life from him, and no real story to be told about who Steven was in life, and in death .

Something is terribly wrong with this life and death thing, it seems to be backwards, evil gets rewarded with life, and being good gets you killed. 

Something is horribly wrong with a legal system that is easily manipulated to the highest bidder, for decisions that are based on distortions, lies, and personal greed, with justice for innocent victims no where to be found, and Laws disregarded at the whim of those in charge. The system of laws is all about being a business where money spent  and made is the guiding rule, justice is largely ignored.

Yet, this is not so confusing, look around us at the news every day, this is reality, something is horribly wrong

We all have the capacity to make personal and professional choices in the manner that we treat others and interact with each other. Anyone who says that they don't, is not being honest. Human beings should be able to understand the true results of their choices, that we can choose to love, have compassion, be responsible for our behavior, and value human life. In our world, life is unfortunately not like that and many horribly cruel and unfair events take place, which make absolutely no rational sense. Hate, suffering, and indifference have become the norm, while good people are being literally crushed out of existence. We have become a world in denial, a place where evil people choose to place the blame on innocent others, and decent human beings passively hide, hoping that evil will not strike them or their loved ones. They say the right words but always selfishly feel, good, it is not me, not my loved one. Then they return to their silent, hidden existence of denial.

I have a wall in the living room of my house that I call the "Wall Of Injustice". It is filled with items that I have placed there in remembrance of the worst injustices that I consider to be of importance to me. Reminders of injustice live there, as varied from Tianemmen Square protests in China, Nazis killing Jews in the Warsaw Ghetto, photos of my family who died as holocaust victims, photos and objects of personal, unfair, often violent tragedies, Steven's swimming goggles, and a eternal memorial light that burns 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. It isn't easy to get on my wall of Justice. I am the sole decision maker who makes certain that the criteria for this wall has to be worthy of its place. There is a deliberate position for each item on the Wall, with a tiny limited empty space left, that I hope never to fill. 


I’m sitting here thinking about Steven lying in his grave and wondering to myself why god, or the fates, or whatever higher power, is given the ability to make such fickle, suffering, and often horrifying, deadly decisions. 


I mean, where’s the justice or the fair play we’re brought up to believe in? We’re always taught to believe in the greater good and how all things work out for the best. So where is the good in these endless situations of decent people who didn’t deserve the hand that was dealt to them? There are no do overs, no second chances, suffering, death by injustice is for keeps. The dead know that, so do the families of the victims.

And in the end, I’m still sitting here asking the question, Why?


Sunday, December 5, 2010

Only The Good Die Young

MEGHAN MURPHY died 2 months after this post-REST IN PEACE DEAR MEGHAN- June 3, 1980-February 5, 2011


Jessica's best Friend Meghan Murphy (30 years old) is critically ill with cervical cancer that has now spread to her lungs. Yet Meghan remains amazingly courageous in writing her own online journal in such honest, open feelings. It is both humbling and an inspiration for myself to read her words in that journal.

This is a wonderful, loving, kid that ironically works as a cancer researcher. I have known Meghan for many years and she is one of those rare people that you love as soon as you meet her. A contagious smile sensitive, caring,modest,always bubbling with life, funny, so very smart, kind, and involved with saving the world.

Why is this happening to her when there are so many evil people in this world who seem to get away with murder, evil deeds, and still live to a ripe old age? Like Steven, Meghan's life is being stolen from her at such a young age, for no reason, while she has her entire world ahead of her. There is no Justice!!!

If you want to read Meghan's journal click on the link below-

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/meghanmurphy7


Today this is what Meghan Posted in her journal:

Not Dead, But This Is Heaven-Sunday, December 5, 2010 8:08 AM, EST

"If you wanted to design a place to help a friend heal, a quiet place she could rest, a nontoxic environment to help her immune system, a beautiful place to inspire her, a welcoming place for family and friends, next door to a place that would feed her raw organic food, massage her, detox her, give her space to exercise and swim... then you would have designed Alicia and Peter's condo.

This is a place to heal! Alicia has thought of everything even removing the chlorine from the shower. Since my lungs are on the fritz the chlorine pools and chlorine showers are trouble for me, but not here! Expect to see me clean:) and exercised.

And the space! After Manhattan I feel like we are in a castle, I cannot begin to fathom how I got so lucky, and you guys too, now you don't have to get $115 parking tickets when you visit.

We officially check in to Hippocrates this afternoon and ... the scary part... find out how much this is going to cost. But Colin and Micaela have been working on a discount and some angles are determined I can afford to go. I think it will be ok since I really can't do much or eat much yet. And I am hoping it works for my Mama Mia and Devon to take some of the classes. Looks like we will be growing wheat grass and making sprouted hummus!

You guys and the universe have certainly stepped in to make this happen, everything seems to fall into place which reassures me this was the right decision. I don't have to die getting chemo just because the powers that be think that is what's best for me. What's best for me is a lot more fun than that stinky old plan. And think of all the money New York State will save! Now, I feel like the philanthropist.

To be a part of this scheming, to help me and my Mom, all fundraising angels can go to:

http://teammeghan.blogspot.com

So many people have contributed I am just overwhelmed. I know I can never repay you so please accept my bottomless gratitude and know that your generosity is carrying me, alleviating my suffering, giving me hope and if need be, offering me a way to pass from this world that better suits me.

Love you and thank you.And thank you for all your posts!! Love,Meghan."

As you can see, feel, Meghan is fighting hard to delay or defeat her monster. Yet she worries if she loses her fight to live, that she will leave her mother with the debt of Meghan's medical expenses,student loans, etc. So very typical of Meghan Murphy to be staring down death and at the same time worrying that she may be a financial burden to her mom.These are regular people, like you and I, they don't deserve this suffering to be happening to them.

I post this on my blog, because it reminds me that although the situations of Steven being killed is very different than Meghan's, both Steven and Meghan represent enormous courage, terribly painful experiences, the human fighting spirit of never giving up, sanctity, preciousness of life, and the fragile wicked fate that can in a nano second change a life forever.

It reminds me that there are other good human beings that need our support, compassion, and caring. It also represents the fear, as a parent that we all have for our children, as a human being that we have for ourselves/loved ones, and yet despite much tragedy in my life, it makes me feel grateful for what I still have once I read Meghan's words.

If you pray, pray for Meghan, pray for her family, especially her mother, pray for Steven, pray for my family.There are many like us who live with the demons of our tragic losses, don't be afraid of us. If you don't pray, keep us all in your heart and soul, either way, don't abandon us, don't ignore us.

If you want to donate some money to pay for Meghan's expenses, no amount is too small or too large, you can easily do so by contributing to "Team Meghan" formed by a group of Meghan's friends-Simply click on the link below to take you to the Team Meghan web page-
http://teammeghan.blogspot.com

Steven would want you to do that, and so do I. Jerry