16-12-2015, 08:15 AM
Folks, great news! Mr. Roger Stone has agreed to write a foreword for my new, updated book. More than 70 pages has been added for rock solid, indisputable, corroborated, backed by documents for factual evidence to this book. For the first time, Mr. Stone will outline his private conversations he's had with senator majority leader Howard S. Liebengood, detailing the assassination plots conveyed to Mr. Stone regarding President Richard Nixon and those involved behind the plot. This is explosive information. The information he recalls is to the best of Mr. Stone's knowledge, and is now confirmed and backed by documentation. Secondly, Mr. Jesse Ventura may have a few words he would like to say as well.
I welcome these two men, both have been involved and worked with both parties in the corrosive rectum of politics. I look forward to sharing their information culled directly from their own personal experiences.
Upon receiving their information, the book will then go out for publication. Here is but a small sample of well documented information.
My father's employment history remained a problem in Alaska. He was back in the country he loved so dearly, but was still not a citizen. A secret he kept from his young bride. He was hired doing various odd jobs, but nothing had the longevity or excitement he was seeking. My father secured employment at a nearby corner store, but soon left for lack of excitement. Fortunately, around the same time, he met a manufacturer of silk garments who needed help importing his textiles from Hong Kong. Johnny was his name. Johnny introduced my father to Charles Knuth aka "Duke" who was prexy of his Bail Bonds company.
His bail bond operation had offices in Anchorage, Fairbanks, Juneau and Kenai, with representatives reportedly as far away as Seattle and Tokyo. This may help explain how my father was able to handle imported silk garments that were specifically tailored for pimps and prostitutes. Duke was also favored for sporting his double breasted pin-striped suits, a white Stetson hat and spit shine cowboy boots. Judging by his appearance, the way Duke dressed, you'd think Duke was a bail bondsman by day, and a pimp by night. The one thing my father despised most, drugs, pimps and prostitutes. My father worked in Anchorage and Fairbanks area doing seismographic drilling and driving for an Alaskan bondsman with Chicago Mafia ties to Sam Giancana.
His name is Charles Knuth aka the "Duke". Sam had alleged connections to the CIA in plots to assassinate Fidel Castro. On the night of June 19, 1975. A gunman later entered Giancana's basement kitchen and shot him in the back of the head as he was frying sausage and peppers. After Giancana fell to the ground, the gunman turned him over and shot him six more times in the face and neck. Investigators suspected the murderer was a close friend. With friends like that, who needs enemies? A Chicagoan, Duke had been in Alaska since the mid-fifties, when he was released from prison after serving eleven years for armed robbery according to the newspapers accounts.
It's hard to imagine that Duke ran a company that would cater to bad guy's, hired bad guy's, and had his men chase these bad guy's down those who jumped bail. It's almost ironic to think that an owner of a Bail Bond Company was a hardened criminal himself. Duke claimed he did the time as a favor for friends in the Mafia who paid him for his trouble. Anyone doing eleven years for friends in the Mafia, must be pretty powerful figures. My father began working for this man Duke, and on many occasions, if he wasn't taking measurements of clients, he'd be chasing down criminals who jumped bail. My mom wanted my father to have a better job, she was quite shocked to learn that most of the garments were being outfitted for pimps and prostitutes.
According to my mother, my dad was not all to thrilled about his work either, but it was the only immediate work that he could find. It's almost unbelievable how my father was connected to the Mafia, the CIA, FBI, U.S Customs and the anti-Castro Cubans. If my father could be summed up in three words, I suppose they would be "one man bandstand." He did it all.
A fearless and relentless pursuer of bond jumpers once flew to Puerto Rico to grab a stray customer tracked him down and brought him back to Alaska. Duke was a frontier baron who ran his fiefdom on a very personal basis. If a client couldn't make his payments, he could always indenture himself to a stint wiping down cars at the Splash & Dash which is one way of putting it. I suppose if they weren't working as a booty call for Duke, it would be up to guys like my father to brake a few limbs. In December 1968, Duke was murdered, he was shot three times, once in the head at point blank range, the murder was never solved. It was after Duke's murder that we left for Florida, just two days after Christmas. FBI records show that we moved into Miami 1969, and according to my mother the drive from Alaska to Miami took one week with few stops along the way. I suppose our arrival into Miami would have been around the first of the new year 1969. My father says we left Alaska because I needed an ear operation, truth is, Duke was killed. My father wanted to go to Miami for the adventure he longed for, it wasn't about me, it was about him. Folks didn't live long when around my father.
It's hard to imagine when someone is able to walk on both sides of the street, lingering in the shadows, and playing both sides of the fence, someone who can so easily be this big bad guy, as Mike said, if you get in his way, he'll kick the xxxx out of you. Then, on the whim, be chasing these bad guy's down. I mean, here's my father robbing, killing while in the Legion, and beating up cops, to chasing down criminals of his own kind who jumps bail. I always wondered how my father met Duke, and a more plausible scenario would be while my father was facing some jail time for assaulting an Alaskan State Trooper, Duke could have been the bondsman who bailed my father out.
Someone, killed Duke the same month and year we left Alaska. My father never spoke about Duke's murder until he opened up to Howard Liebengood.
My mother didn't know anything about Duke.
As far as my mother is concerned, my father worked for someone who imported garments from Hong Kong. But, all that was about to change when according to my mother, my father hated his job. I discovered the Liebengood documents regarding my father's relationship with Duke. I began to research Duke's name only to find out that he was in a line of work my father despised most. It appears as though Duke was a Bondsman by day, and a drug pushing pimp by night. I've discovered Duke was murdered at the same time we left for Florida, and his murder was never solved which only raises my suspicion to the possibility that my father had something to do with it.
I welcome these two men, both have been involved and worked with both parties in the corrosive rectum of politics. I look forward to sharing their information culled directly from their own personal experiences.
Upon receiving their information, the book will then go out for publication. Here is but a small sample of well documented information.
My father's employment history remained a problem in Alaska. He was back in the country he loved so dearly, but was still not a citizen. A secret he kept from his young bride. He was hired doing various odd jobs, but nothing had the longevity or excitement he was seeking. My father secured employment at a nearby corner store, but soon left for lack of excitement. Fortunately, around the same time, he met a manufacturer of silk garments who needed help importing his textiles from Hong Kong. Johnny was his name. Johnny introduced my father to Charles Knuth aka "Duke" who was prexy of his Bail Bonds company.
His bail bond operation had offices in Anchorage, Fairbanks, Juneau and Kenai, with representatives reportedly as far away as Seattle and Tokyo. This may help explain how my father was able to handle imported silk garments that were specifically tailored for pimps and prostitutes. Duke was also favored for sporting his double breasted pin-striped suits, a white Stetson hat and spit shine cowboy boots. Judging by his appearance, the way Duke dressed, you'd think Duke was a bail bondsman by day, and a pimp by night. The one thing my father despised most, drugs, pimps and prostitutes. My father worked in Anchorage and Fairbanks area doing seismographic drilling and driving for an Alaskan bondsman with Chicago Mafia ties to Sam Giancana.
His name is Charles Knuth aka the "Duke". Sam had alleged connections to the CIA in plots to assassinate Fidel Castro. On the night of June 19, 1975. A gunman later entered Giancana's basement kitchen and shot him in the back of the head as he was frying sausage and peppers. After Giancana fell to the ground, the gunman turned him over and shot him six more times in the face and neck. Investigators suspected the murderer was a close friend. With friends like that, who needs enemies? A Chicagoan, Duke had been in Alaska since the mid-fifties, when he was released from prison after serving eleven years for armed robbery according to the newspapers accounts.
It's hard to imagine that Duke ran a company that would cater to bad guy's, hired bad guy's, and had his men chase these bad guy's down those who jumped bail. It's almost ironic to think that an owner of a Bail Bond Company was a hardened criminal himself. Duke claimed he did the time as a favor for friends in the Mafia who paid him for his trouble. Anyone doing eleven years for friends in the Mafia, must be pretty powerful figures. My father began working for this man Duke, and on many occasions, if he wasn't taking measurements of clients, he'd be chasing down criminals who jumped bail. My mom wanted my father to have a better job, she was quite shocked to learn that most of the garments were being outfitted for pimps and prostitutes.
According to my mother, my dad was not all to thrilled about his work either, but it was the only immediate work that he could find. It's almost unbelievable how my father was connected to the Mafia, the CIA, FBI, U.S Customs and the anti-Castro Cubans. If my father could be summed up in three words, I suppose they would be "one man bandstand." He did it all.
A fearless and relentless pursuer of bond jumpers once flew to Puerto Rico to grab a stray customer tracked him down and brought him back to Alaska. Duke was a frontier baron who ran his fiefdom on a very personal basis. If a client couldn't make his payments, he could always indenture himself to a stint wiping down cars at the Splash & Dash which is one way of putting it. I suppose if they weren't working as a booty call for Duke, it would be up to guys like my father to brake a few limbs. In December 1968, Duke was murdered, he was shot three times, once in the head at point blank range, the murder was never solved. It was after Duke's murder that we left for Florida, just two days after Christmas. FBI records show that we moved into Miami 1969, and according to my mother the drive from Alaska to Miami took one week with few stops along the way. I suppose our arrival into Miami would have been around the first of the new year 1969. My father says we left Alaska because I needed an ear operation, truth is, Duke was killed. My father wanted to go to Miami for the adventure he longed for, it wasn't about me, it was about him. Folks didn't live long when around my father.
It's hard to imagine when someone is able to walk on both sides of the street, lingering in the shadows, and playing both sides of the fence, someone who can so easily be this big bad guy, as Mike said, if you get in his way, he'll kick the xxxx out of you. Then, on the whim, be chasing these bad guy's down. I mean, here's my father robbing, killing while in the Legion, and beating up cops, to chasing down criminals of his own kind who jumps bail. I always wondered how my father met Duke, and a more plausible scenario would be while my father was facing some jail time for assaulting an Alaskan State Trooper, Duke could have been the bondsman who bailed my father out.
Someone, killed Duke the same month and year we left Alaska. My father never spoke about Duke's murder until he opened up to Howard Liebengood.
My mother didn't know anything about Duke.
As far as my mother is concerned, my father worked for someone who imported garments from Hong Kong. But, all that was about to change when according to my mother, my father hated his job. I discovered the Liebengood documents regarding my father's relationship with Duke. I began to research Duke's name only to find out that he was in a line of work my father despised most. It appears as though Duke was a Bondsman by day, and a drug pushing pimp by night. I've discovered Duke was murdered at the same time we left for Florida, and his murder was never solved which only raises my suspicion to the possibility that my father had something to do with it.