Here’s why I’m pretty sure that Dick Cheney shot Harry Wittington in the face in Albany, Georgia.

(Sorry if my memoirs sound like the rantings of a schizophrenic. I live in unusual part of the United States, after reading this you may feel like looking into it, but I’ll give you some backdrop to spark your interest. Also, if you’ve read any of my theories, they are loaded with speculation. This isn’t one of those papers.)

I’ve spent the majority of my life living in Albany, Georgia. Albany is a very intriguing town, which was actually built on the world’s second biggest pure water aquifer. Albany is also home to America’s second biggest Marine base. In 1988 Albany became the murder capital of the United States. In fact, I remember the police Chief saying at one point we were the murder capital of the world. Albany is also a metropolis for the counties that border it, as it is the most built-up county in this part of Georgia, and if you ask the residents that live in counties around Albany where they are from, most will respond Albany, because more than likely they work in Albany or have family in Albany.

Before I get into the meat of this subject, I would like to say that Patch Adams the finder’s cult doctor, visited Albany back in 2001 and his appearance has been scrubbed

Newscenter 10 Archives May, 2001 - WALB

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May 4, 2001 — Dr. Patch Adams Visits Albany View Final Shellman murder suspect due View Fire department cashes in on recruits View

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It is somewhat documented in a search for his appearance in Albany, but I can’t find one article, and I remember seeing him. So, by word of mouth, and what I saw, this is what I know. My grandfather was a doctor, and he was in the hospital recovering, after getting a new hip. Patch Adams was visiting patients at the hospital. He heard a fellow doctor was recovering and wanted to say hello, and thanks for your service.

I missed seeing him in my grandpa’s room by about twenty minutes from what I’m told.

My Aunt worked at the hospital, and she was kind of a big deal on the business end of things, and she was obligated to make appearances on the hospital’s behalf, she asked me if I wanted to go see Patch give a lecture at the civic center. So, I obliged her.

My first impression of Patch was he was really tall and talked like he was dead on the inside. He was nothing like Robin Williams. The lecture was a bit of a letdown.

I think this is important because Les Wexner bought a plantation in which he named Abigail plantation a little before Patch came to town, and as you will see, Les had some kind of connection, to the Freemason, Shriners and Templars of the area.

IF you can believe it Ray Charles went to the school for the blind in Albany, Otis Redding was born in Dawson neighboring town, and Luke Bryant was born in Albany, and raised in Lee County, which boarders the north tip of Albany. Also, many professional athletes, were born and still live here. Buster posey an MVP rookie of the year would be the most notable.

Jimmy Carter was born and still lives in plains, Georgia, which is a little over thirty minutes from Albany. We have secret service, piddling around town fairly often, in fact I had a teacher whose, husband worked in the secret service guarding President Carter. I also had classmates whose father protected the President. I also had classes with his grandchildren or his great grandchildren, I’m not completely sure.

The FBI also have an office in Albany, Georgia.

There is also a small community of intelligence workers who all live in the same neighborhood, in this somewhat small town.

*Quick rumor on Carter. It is known that Carters mother Lillian Carter was the secretary for Joseph Kennedy. The Joseph Kennedy, whom was the father of JFK. Well, according to the people in Plains. Joseph lived in Plains really close to a married Lillian for a few months, and nine months later Jimmy Carter was born.

There are also a few Billionaires that have/are living in Albany. The most notable was Les Wexner, but he’s not the richest.

Albany also houses a home office for quails unlimited, which brings a number of prominent people to town. People like politicians, celebrities, athletes and musicians, etc….. Anyways, from the way I understand it quail unlimited is basically just a hunting club that has relationships with a lot of the plantations around this area, and all the way down into Florida, where members of quails unlimited are allowed to bring members to hunt. (it’s a lot of hunting land.)

Around 2000 Les Wexner moved into town, I know the documents say Abigail plantation, but I could have sworn people used to call it by a different name. Long story short, he had a lot of renovations performed on the property, and I knew a guy that helped on the construction on Wexner’s mansion. We were in high school, and I remember my friend talking about the hidden rooms, inside that mansion. I had another friend who had to crawl under the house to work on the pluming, and apparently Les asked several times, in a thirty-minute period on where my friend exactly was under the house.

Here's what I can tell you is the honest truth (Not that I don’t believe what a few close friends told me). I worked on a farm growing up. I started farming when I was eight and I worked for several farms up until my late twenties. Around 2004 Wexner started buying hay from the farm I was working on, and I wasn’t allowed to go to Abigail plantation with the owner to deliver the hay. I never met Les, but the owner of the farm did. They kind of got to be friendly, and Les became a regular customer. Not to long after their friendship began, the owner ran for public office and won.

In college I was asked by the owner of a nightclub in Albany to start working security, I showed up on time, didn’t drink, acted professionally and always did a good job. Pretty soon I was working the VIP section. I got paid more and I was tipped out by people in the section. During quail season I met a lot of celebrities, some of us had really good relationships and some of us not so good. Long story short, the job opened a lot of doors for me.

A local business owner took interest in me and hired me hoping I would attract certain clientele to his establishment. It seemed to work he was happy, and business was going well. I was his golden goose, and he really enjoyed what I was able to do for him. Before I knew it, we were friends, and we were in regular communication.

We had great conversations about an array of topics from religion to politics and everything in between. One day he decided to tell me he was a freemason, and that I should think about joining. I already knew that the freemasons were a cult, and I was able to gracefully decline. With that said, he didn’t take it hard and we maintained a good relationship, but that wasn’t the last time he tried to get me to join his cult. On a sidenote this man was also a Shriner

This man also ended up having a relationship with Lex.

While working at this man’s establishment, I soon found out that a lot of my clientele were murderers. To be fair, when you live in reminiscence of the murder capital of the world, you do expect to meet a couple of bad apples. I wasn’t too alarmed. There were also several known contract killers who frequented said establishment, and to be honest, I’m not sure how many unknown contract killers there were.

Alright just so there is no confusion, both the farmer and the businessman talked to me about Dick Cheney shooting Harry Wittington in the face, in Albany, Georgia. There are also many people around Albany and every surrounding county that have heard the same thing. Also, I did ask why the news reported that it happened in Texas. One guy said he didn’t know, and the other said it was political. At this point I wasn’t told, where the incident happened, and would have never thought it was on Les Wexner’s plantation. Just for the mere fact that so many plantations, around Albany raise quail.

Alright so the next guy, the most perplexing man, actually told me where the shooting happened. He also told me, the reason he was told, of why the mainstream media reported the incident took place in Texas.

But first I want to describe the man a little bit, and our situation, because there is another piece of this story I would like to offer, which I think this audience will be interested in. Also, I can’t reveal any names, for a lot of reasons and you’ll soon understand.

If we could fast forward several years, I was still working at night clubs, farming and going to college off and on. By this time, I took a job a little closer to where I lived, at a smaller bar just for an extra couple of hundred bucks a week. I met the owner one time, we made a deal, and he seemed alright. I really never saw the man again. I talked to him on the phone, but for the most part I delt with his nephew.

To tell this story I’m going to call the man buddy.

Buddy was a quiet man, he was/is well to do and didn’t draw a paycheck from the establishment yet helped out a lot. He very much kept his business to himself and never told anybody he was related to the owner. Some people knew, but never had a reason to talk about it. He didn’t impose on anybody; he didn’t butt into conversations, and he didn’t talk much.

Naturally, he did take an interest in me, because I was working at his uncle's bar, and before I knew it, we were having very long conversations that ranged from U.F.O’s to politics. His favorite subject was himself. I’ve got to be honest; I didn’t mind listening. Here’s why. Buddy’s parents got a divorce when he was young. His mother remarried a NASA scientist, and Buddy got to go fishing with Werner Von Braun at one point in his life.

Trust me, I hounded him about the whole alien phenomena, and we spoke many hours at length because he was very interested in the subject himself. The whole alien topic was actually his favorite to subject to talk about. It may have taken a few months, before he said, “Ya know, if you want to know the truth about aliens you should join the freemasons.”

I was well aware I was dealing with a cult member, but I had heard some very interesting things, that were verified in one form or another from Buddy, and instead of turning down his offer right away, I let him try to talk me into joining the freemasons. Last thing, Buddy’s stepfather was the one who talked Johnny into joining.

One day, we started talking about Les Wexner. Buddy got the opportunity to visit Les at his mansion, for what reason and when, I’m not sure. According to Buddy, the first thing he asked les was why it was so damn hilly around his house. Les told Buddy, that he was a big supporter of Israel. He said he gave a lot of money to the country, and he had to take precautions because Israel’s enemies wanted him dead. Apparently, the hills were there to keep helicopters from landing. (I don’t know if that’s the truth, just telling you what I was told.)

Buddy went on to reveal that Chaney actually shot Harry Wittington on Wexner’s property, and the reason the story was reported as to happening in Texas, was politically it would look bad if Chaney was palling around with a supporter of Israel.

Weird Story about buddy.

Buddy wanted to become a templar. He went as far as he could go as a mason, and he said he was real interested in learning what the templars had to say. So, he applied for membership and got accepted. I remember he was very excited leading up to his initiation. It was a busy for him and he made it a point to let me know, it would probably be a few days before I would see him around

A few days later, I stroll into work, and there is a man with piercing blue eyes, premature white spiked hair, in his pajamas crying in the corner to the bartender. I was making my rounds when I was asked by the bartender to go talk to the man. I walked over and asked him what I could do for him, when he told me his adopted son had died, and he was looking for any information that could help him figure out what was going on.

He went on to tell me that his son died with a plastic bag over his head, and the sheriff’s department ruled it a suicide. For obvious reasons he didn’t agree. He also went on tell me we passed through a satanic holiday, and he believed his child’s death to be an occult sacrifice. I asked him why he thought these things. He went on to tell me, that his grandmother was a witch and that he was brought up into witchcraft (until his Christian mother found out), basically he then went on to give me the ins and out of human sacrifice.

I think his plan was to get an autopsy on his son, as soon as possible. He definitely went to length on why he thought the sheriff’s department was trying to cover something up. (I ended up kind of looking into this theory that the man had, and I was able to find a charter with the names of the local Freemasons in this area and I did find the Sheriff’s name on said charter.)

I think most people would have written this off, but I heard a similar story when I was working for the successful businessman, who was a Mason, at the previously mentioned establishment.

One day man famous around Albany for slapping another man’s ear off his head, for some odd reason, told me about the death of his child. The only difference was this man had a stack of papers at least eight inches thick. He had pictures of the scene, in which there were pentagrams on the walls, and his child dead by gunshot wound to the head.

With that said, I took the white spiked haired man's word for it. I felt bad for the man, and a little perplexed by the situation. What are the odds? Intrigued, I kept returning to the man every chance I could to ask him about his son’s murder, the sheriff’s department, and a lot of other things.

Later on, Buddy came waltzing in half lit, I gave a gave him a quick hello, and congratulated him on achieving his goal. I briefly talked to him, but my curiosity kept pulling me back to the father. Me and the white-haired man kept talking, and I could see Buddy glancing at us, here and there. I kept getting the feeling Buddy wanted to talk to me, like he wanted to enjoy the moment with a friend.

Eventually I made my way over to Buddy to see if he had anything to say about becoming a Templar, but he was more interested in the guy wearing his pajama’s. We had a little laugh, then I filled him in a little, on what happened to the man’s son. I told him, I was basically consoling the man, trying to help him get through a hard time.

Later on, that night those two crossed paths, and they nearly got into a fight. I had to get in between them. I remember the father trying to pay his to tab while turning to Buddy, while apologizing, and saying God bless you. This set Buddy off, and I had to carry Buddy outside.

It was then, I thought to myself, Buddy probably had something to do with that boy’s death. I can’t prove it, I never brought it up to Buddy. It was all very strange. If it was all a coincidence, God will just have to forgive my speculation.

Obviously, I’ve been a little vague, I’m sorry about that, but I’ve said all I feel comfortable saying. Once again this isn’t fiction, this is a small portion of what I’ve seen.

If anybody has any questions, I’ll answer what I can.