Very frequent visitor on firefox UK, would you like to discuss this post at all? leave a comment if so.
Here Goes. I will tell what I remember, splintered as it is.
It gets a bit more coherent and serious further on, it starts with the splintered memories of a young autistic Child in quite unsettled circumstances.
Futher on, this autistic child was 12 or 13 and remembers more, but I wish there was a journal, a family member or any supporting account to fill in the gaps, but there isn't.
The Church of England, as they do, will probably be insulting and make me out to be mad, but this story, and my full story in the 'Pages' section of the blog, are the reason I ended up on the Church of ENgland's doorstep, severely damaged and vulnerable to their abusive systems and abusers who they protect at the expense of Victims, see the articles about Lady Butler-Sloss and Bishop Ball.
I will omit some names and will include others but without any accusations, I am telling what I remember.
This story is partly to show how far the impact of abuse and cover ups by authorities can reach, as, not a direct victim of the pervert MPs, I was still affected by the war over the abuse and cover-ups that went on.
The story is not statement of fact, it is me recalling what I remember seeing, hearing and living through.
I am not recording anyone innocent or guilty, what I am doing now, is telling you what I lived through, now enabled to do so by the recent publicising of the matter, having had to keep silent for years because people like me were always treated as mad over matters like this.
Leicestershire, 1984-1988, council sink estate, very rough, gangs, violence, illegal motorbikes etc, hallmark Leicester sink estate, one of a number. For my American readers a 'Sink Estate' is a very run down and crime ridden and badly maintained council housing area.
Leicester was the City of the sink estates, and a theory was or is, that it was kept that way so that a supply of vulnerable and voiceless children were available.
I was a young child when I first heard my mum talking about MPs kerb crawling and members of the local council being involved.
I remember one name regarding this matter, and his name came up repeatedly, he was, as far as I know, a local councillor, but I can find very little about him in any internet search, such a person exists, but information is removed/missing/not available.
Another name was mentioned later on in the 1984-1988 period of time, this name is currently in the press a lot with his noise regarding missing files, and his name came up again later in the 1990s part of this story. He has a string of alledged misconducts on his record that he has always escaped action for, and I guess his reason for wanting the missing files is to obliterate any necessary evidence.
My parents were fighting a war regarding this alledged kerb crawling and misconduct by local government figures, and they were fighting a losing war because no-one would listen, no one would act, and no-one believed them, my parents belief system and the structure of my family went against them, their habit of cursing spirits, their ways of keeping us from school, medical help or any authority intervention went against them, as well as the fact that all ears in police, parliment and other authorities were closed.
My family suffered ongoing severe violence during the 1984-1988 period, and I remember a firework being put through the letterbox, I remember numerous violent attacks on us and our house, and my parents said this was because of them reporting the kerb crawling and misconduct of local government members.
I have no solid link between the two matters, so I will call an open verdict, it was a rough estate and my family were a closed cult, would we have been left alone if my parents had not fought the alledged kerb crawling and misconduct? I don't know, but a re-inactment in the 90s of this war, more serious, much clearer to me, and the same allegations and even worse violence, was it co-incidence or not?
Anyway, so, in a family where sex was taboo, we learned words like 'rent-boys' and 'kerb-crawling' at an early age, as my parents fought the police and government.
Now back then, and even in the 90s, people like my parents were silenced at all costs, made to look not credible by police and council actions, and we did suffer terribly with violence against us and council and police allegations and battles.
My parents went to court a lot, not so much in the 80s, but a lot more in the 90s, to the point of neglecting us children somewhat, well there were 15 siblings, how can you raise us and be out at court all the time?
Anyway, so in 1988, we left Leicestershire, and all I had known for the first years of my life was violence and stress, not good, I was also undiagnosed autistic and possibly brain damaged from various injuries that never received medical help. I was already very damaged.
Things didn't get better as we fled Leicestershire and ended up homeless.
Jump to the early 90s, returning to Leicester, homeless, my family were housed on a Leicester sink estate, even worse than the one we escaped in 1988.
And this is where it all really kicked off.
We were in the constituency of Leicester West MP, Greville Janner, and, although I have no memory of the link between him in the past and him in the 90s and my family, he was apparently one of the people who my parents had a complaint against, he was one of the 'kerb-crawlers'. From the 80s.
This was according to my mother, this is not me alledging anything.
My parents believed it was 'God's will' That we had come back here to refresh this fight.
Right, well this is the most traumatic year of my life, in the early 90s and I am struggling to recall it to you.
My parents soon fell out with the neighbours on the new sink estate because my parents reported criminal activity, which is not the done thing on a sink estate, you keep your head down if you want to survive, a bit like when you are a rough sleeper :)
Anyway, among the incidents, my parents had got to know a family up the road called the 'G' family, A man called SG, his Mother, and a 13 year old boy, 'AG'.
Before long, my Mother said that SG was abusing AG and selling him for sex, and also that SG had a relationship with Greville Janner.
I have to say, I have no idea of the truth of this, but I was 12 years old.
As you can imagine, even this indirect situation is not great for the mind of a 12 year old, and I had lived 12 years of unsettled and harmful life already.
Anyway. So this family and my family were clashing, and generally on a very bad sink estate, my family was attracting negative attention.
The situation became increasingly violent, and the severeity of the worst of the violence has scarred me for life, but I will return to trying to focus on the MP and cover up situation.
It is difficult to go back to being a traumatized 12 year old and put everything in order.
This is what I remember my parents saying.
They said that Greville Janner had framed a man called Frank Beck.
They said that Janner was responsible for the abuse and that the children abused had not known the difference between the two men.
They talked about someone being murdered at a children's home, and about the body being removed at night, I know no more about that.
My mum often spoke of Janner kerb crawling and using rent boys.
She mentioned the Holiday Inn as a venue for people using rent boys.
My parents again linked the violence we were suffering on the estate to the MPs and cover ups.
The matter of Janner and Beck was the main topic of conversation in our home, although, again, I do not recall as much as I now wish I did.
My parents were now locked in court battles again.
My Mum spoke of a care home boy, I am not sure I can name him, although he is named in the press a lot, according to my mum, this young man was being abused by Janner, and Frank Beck was putting a stop to it, my mum talked about Jannner taking this boy a bike, and Frank Beck not allowing him in to see the boy.
My mum got to know Frank Beck, she would visit him in prison, and she and I would cycle accross the city to visit the lady that Frank Beck was engaged to, I probably shouldn't name her, I will call her 'D', and she lived with a lodger, who also joined the conversation, while I played with Theo, the cat, and was told not to play with the cactus as it was dangerous.
I remember not really knowing what Mum and D and the lodger were talking about but I remember D. saying how she would like to paint on every bridge in Leicester 'Frank Beck is innocent!'.
I remember my parents fighting the police to do something about the violence we were suffering and also to do something about the Beck and Janner situation.
My Mum told us that the police were 'In Janner's pockets' which used to make us laugh at the image, but she told us it meant that they were on his payroll, did as he wanted in return for bribes.
Then my Mum got in a state of excitement because there was to be an investigation.
An officer called Chief Inspector Foster, of West Mercia Police, was to come and investigate the Beck and Janner matter.
My mum spent quite some time giving evidence. I am not sure now if she had to go to Charles Street or our local police station, but I remember during this time she took me to the local police station when I was shot with air rifle pellets on the estate, there was nothing for the police doctor to see, and my mum hadn't checked that I wasn't really wounded just pinged, but during that time the police acted co-operative and interested in our situation.
Anyway, unfortunately the Doctor Foster, as we called him, investigation, turned out to be a whitewash. Well, can anyone name a genuine investigation into such an issue during the 80s or 90s? No one who valued their job, life and home would dare!
Our lives were being wrecked because of this matter!
Frank was moved to a prison in Cambridge, Mum still went to visit him, she also spent a lot of time with his law firm, who were also our law firm, Ian Henning was the man holding evidence on the matter, and Mum often also spoke to John Harrison, who worked for the firm.
We had something to fear from a legendary bunch of thugs called 'Grevvies Heavies', his protection brigade, thankfully I never met them, have no knowledge if they were even real.
But my parents said we were marked for reporting Janner, and we were at risk.
All I know is that we were at risk from constant and severe violence on the estate and that was real and has marked me for life, I had a breakdown when I was 12, and I believe that is why I have never really grown up properly.
I remember the time I ran to the police station to get help as we had no phone, and the police wouldn't always help, and I got chased by gang members and in fear of my life, I was lucky or God protected me.
I remember my mum pointing out a picture in the Leicester Mercury, Greville Janner making someone or something levitate, she talked about the 'magic circle' and how Greville's wife, in the background 'knew' about him.
We fled the Council estate amid escalating violence as more serious injuries occured.
We fled to a homeless hostel within a few miles of the house.
My parents and brothers were arrested.
I cannot give you much understanding but my mum says it was about speaking up about Janner, while the charges were about retaliating to violence on the estate.
Now, flash-forward to Jersey, same thing.
And in this flash-forward to me and Jersey, lets go into the police station that causes me to collapse or have nightmares.
In the police station in Leicester, my dad recounted that the police were knocking a drunk man about, and he knew the police intended him harm too.
My dad recalled how he walked round and round his cell, singing praise to God all night, and God protected him and didn't allow him to be harmed.
Unfortunately for me, I was already in collapse when Jersey police brutalized me, I could not stand, walk or sing, I was not fully conscious and could not, with all my effort, wake properly, but I flashed back to my Dad, singing praises to God all night in his cell, when he was imprisoned because of Greville Janner. In the police cell in Jersey, imprisoned because of the wrongdoing of the diocese of Winchester and the Deanery of Jersey,
I cried out to my dad, 'Abba? Abba, eyphoh?' In Hebrew, the language my parents preferred us to speak, that was 'Dad, Dad, where are you?'
But my Dad had died of a stroke a year before I was imprisoned.
Back to Leicester in the early 90s.
My parents and brothers were released and we spent 9 months in the homeless hostel, which was rough istelf, all ex-prisoners, dealers, addicts and other bad characters. This is when my younger brothers started to become deviant and delinquent, and I was now elective mute, severely traumatised as my parents continued to fight court cases and my sister, age 14 and myself now 13, were put in a separate unit from our parents in the hostel, placed with unfamiliar and badly behaved adults.
My mum and Frank's fiance, and Ian Henning, continued to fight Frank's case.
But sadly, one day, my mum, in tears, told us Frank had died suddenly while playing table tennis in prison. She said it had been sudden, and that he was a happy man, looking forward to his appeal.
Then, later, she and others, claimed Frank had been murdered.
Frank's funeral was at Gilroes crematorium, not far from us, my brother and I used to deliver newspapers round that area. My mum and brothers attended, and then Mum went to Dartmoor, where Frank's ashes were scattered on Hay Tor. Because Frank had liked dartmoor, was he in Dartmoor prison at one point?
Anyway, Ian Henning still held evidence, and so the matter wasn't over.
Ian Henning was killed in a motorbike 'accident'.
My mum said Ian was murdered because he held the evidence. She said his bike was sabotaged.
This was never confirmed. The police, if they were on Janner's side, would of course not be willing to investigate.
I remember Ian only vaguely, grey hair and white shirt, we used to sometimes sit in his office on hot Leicester afternoons.
After Frank's death, D, his fiance, was no longer interested in fighting for Greville Janner to be dealt with, her part had been merely to see the man who she loved, freed.
The MP mentioned in the early part of this statement, who I will call KV, was consulted by my parents over the Janner matter, but seemed to be involved/obstructing investigations.
With Ian's death, the beck and Janner war was closed down, Ian was the last evidence holder.
And my family had now fled to the ghettos of another city, and our parents warned us that if we valued our lives, we would never again speak of the Beck and Janner matter.
Well. My life is crippled by the Church of England, who re-enacted the Beack and Janner war through the Diocese and Deanery war, and destroyed as I am, and with everyone speaking out, I am no longer afraid to speak, and after 22 years, it is good to share, to get the darkness in my injured mind out into the open.
It is time the culture of cover-ups ends, Church of England, police and politicians, it is time and it is out in the open, expose this scheme of covering up for important people at the expense of the vulnerable wronged. It is time for police, parliment, Church, social services and all authorities to change, stop making genuine comeplaints into insanity on the part of the complainants.
No more Steel-Sloss-Bailhache-Janner-Foster etc etc cover ups.
Here is my enduring memory of the Leicester sink estate