Mr. Hearing Was One Angry Native American

03.26.2017

 

Dear Angie –

 

I just want to let your know I’ve totally given up on all genealogical research. If you want to take photos of the family grave plot, that would be nice, but as I said I am no longer fighting over pennies to try and prove I’m related to trillions.

 

For example, just today on a news network someone asked a reporter to rate all of the Russian hacking allegations from a 1 for “coincidence” to a 10 for a factual case. The reporter said, “I’m at a seven.” Well, I’m at a 10 about being related to Howard Hughes and about a 7 on James Leonard being from Australia, not Ireland.

 

Why would the relatives fib on his origins? Have a few of Bill’s “coincidences.”

 

ü  Howard Hughes separated from his first wife in 1926, my late dad was born in 1927, and in 1928 my “dirt poor” maternal side bought the grave plot you can see, I cannot. No coincidence! Why can’t I visit? Didn’t I mention nobody will drive me one mile in my home town?

ü  On an Amtrak train, there was an Australian woman over my right shoulder. She looked rather physically fit, but if I say I had a secret “bodyguard,” then I’m nuts. No, why not hear her voice on a recording I sneakily made? (I’ve been doing that since 5^th grade). Oh, she’s not English, and why did they try to throw her off the train? Kevin Killeen at KMOX and McGraw Millhaven at KRTS don’t seem to care.

ü  No security problem? On the same recording, I caught a guy behind me issuing a gun violence death threat, but nobody wants to hear that, they want to steal it.

ü  Next? Here comes the rap music and a black guy who said, “You going to St. Louis? Lots of people are shot and killed there.” Thanks, I’ve known that since I started reading the newspaper first grade.

ü  This all continued with a Michigan Avenue apartment where weed-smoking thugs partied on the third floor, just like in New Hampshire. When I called the police and alleged drug dealing, the Concord cops said, “Don’t take that on alone” and did nothing. I wrote twice to the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and they did nothing, then all of my computers were seized by cooks. The copy of my hard drives containing the letters is in Ellisville, Missouri but that’s way too far for my drug dealing family or “friends” to drive, I suppose.

ü  The “drug shit” never ends, because when I smelled potent marijuana in my hall on Michigan, I called the cops simply to ask if maybe it had been decriminalized in my absence. “No sir,” said the cop. “Do you want us to come over?” he asked Would you say “Yes” when you are paying rent with cash and do not even have a bank account yet? Why did the ATM card arrive the day before I was whisked away from there under threat of eviction over ”noise” I did not make? Again, this has a lot to do with drugs I don’t take or even know what the hell they do to you. Since I cannot tell a lie and an ancestor worked for George Washington, again as in Concord when I would moan & complain about the neighbors it was done in the most acoustically dead room of either the $925 per month New Hampshire house or the $350 per month St. Louis house. (This was the kitchen at both addresses). Both owner guys were named “Tony,” and if they know each other, they were possibly “set-up” like in the movies I don’t make, but I sure wrote them.

ü  My late dad had a buddy in Sydney, Australia. When I asked him if he ever visited, Charles Hughes said, “That ticket is way too expensive. I can’t afford that.” I now think dad was lying, which is why my stack of TWA insurance envelopes were taken). Back in 1966, I opened one of them and it said, “Washington, D.C.” as the destination. The rest were tossed in a stack. (I suppose that is not my dad in a photo at the 1964 Republican National Convention). Yes it is! Further, he is next to a brand new ABC mini-cam which the other networks would not have until 1968. (Howard’s deal to buy a majority of ABC fell through? I’m not so sure, but it is a fact he bought ABC Sports).

ü  What did mom say about Barry Goldwater? “That man is crazy!” (I think she voted for Lyndon Johnson).

ü  Now, I’ve found a very funny comedian named Steve Hughes who is from Australia. He says whatever he wants, but I cannot. (I might as well be bound & gagged in this damn motel room). How did I find Steve? By looking at the credits of a video by a guy I helped get started on his comedy career. (Rich Hall). Rich too can say whatever he wants, not me. That is why I’d like to leave the USA and go to England, because nobody can deny “Hughes” was one of the first names in Wales.

ü  The ancient people there were rather warlike, so my dad’s idea of a “clue” was to put a “Hagar the Horrible” cartoon on my door. It was later put in a box somebody is going to prison over taking.

ü  No ADD, ADHD, or PTSD came about from listening to mom & dad arguing about buying a house in St. Louis County. I almost had a deck overlooking I-270 with an in-ground pool, but just like Columbia University for me, Charles declared, “We can’t afford it.” I wondered for decades why they bought the house they did, and apparently it was all about an exit sign. It says, “ADELADIE,” which is also a city in Australia.

ü  Not so funny was my Uncle Ralph’s gift of a boomerang “From Australia,” he said. When daddy threw it, it came back. When Ralph threw it, it came back. When I threw it behind Tommy Baker’s house, it did not come back, and some “little kid” helped himself to it. (This is also where my huge model rocket crash-landed, but I’m not allowed to be at a real launch yet). How about one in North Korea? That is how tired I am of the local “play dumb” crap.

ü  Dad was also, I accidentally discovered, the Junior Class treasurer at CBC High. I was the president of the whole shooting match out there on Redman Road at Rosary-Trinity, and they can all go to hell along with the Archdiocese of St. Louis. Google the name “William Gay” and wonder if I should become a Mormon.

ü  More family trivia? Why was there a .45 handgun that did not shoot in mom & dad’s Bellefontaine Neighbors dresser drawer? That’s what Howard’s Mormon bodyguard’s carried. The directive when all six guns were drawn was, “Step back from Mister Hughes.” I myself prefer that “Made in Israel” Uzi submachine gun if I ever get any of my inheritance. 

 

Bye-Bye, 

 

Bill Hughes