Crystal meth kills – in a time signature difficult to perceive…
Bosqueville – It’s been five years.
Five years have passed since a N. 19th St. Bosqueville trailer exploded in flames on Feb. 16, 2012, the sudden conflagration killing a mother and two of her children within minutes.
Five years have passed and all the people involved who kept using crystal meth in total acceptance of its ill consequences on the mind and body are either dead, or in the penitentiary.
Those who stopped using and sought help, the solace of a rehabilitation clinic, the faith in an almighty God, the healing agency of time, are now living somewhat normal lives.
Speaks to the logic centers of the mind. Take away the speed, life returns to normal conditions. Keep using, you die, or you lose all your freedom and all your time to the People of the State of Texas.
The authorities have moved in mysterious ways and exercised ham-fisted control in order to keep the world from finding out just how the blaze erupted – and why.
The record left behind is filled with hearsay, rumor, and innuendo, but there is one common theme, one common word that runs through it all.
The gangsters who control use the word constantly. That which is considered less than honorable behavior is “that bitch-ass shit.” Women are low-life, their presence to be tolerated, ruled by men who have consigned their freedom to serial episodes of getting by between stretches behind bars.
Such a deal.
Why do the women put up with it? Drugs? A sense of belonging?
Feminists don’t hestitate to answer for them.
They say they have a distorted sense of self-worth, that they seek such degrading treatment to satisfy a perception compelled by a low sense of self esteem.
It all brings to mind what we were told at our mother’s knees. Drugs are used in the underworld to control women – women they call ho’s – to keep them in a constant state of dependence on their handlers, men who use them for purposes that are unspeakable, their vile description of their uses cascading in a filthy tirade from their distorted mouths.
Women who are deemed out of control are made examples. Those who survived the events of winter of 2012 and its following year tremble in fear; they speak of what happened in low tones, their memories hazy, the names tumbling off their tongues with no accuracy, no assured memory.
In a case file compiled in a series of seven indictments for engaging in organized criminal activity, the suspects all told a detective that while transporting a car earlier sold to a dealer on LaSalle Ave., to a rural location after stealing it back, the conspirators were obliged to swing by another location to help a woman who had injected herself in the neck with crystal meth. She was overamping, suffering the effects of an overdose.
The women who will talk off the record, for deep background, say the truth is way different, the truth is, a team of inflamed jicksters seeking revenge for some transgression kicked her door in and stabbed her in the neck with a hot shot of meth, leaving her fate to happenstance and the grace of God before she was revived and brought back to normal respiratory functioning.
A chief suspect in the killing of Ashley Dawn Rogers had a rider who was seen with him the morning of the day the deaths occurred.
Her presence during the time the actual fire happened is hazy, its time-line unproven, but the women who fear reprisal are all sure of certain things.
To “save her life,” her gangster companion held her hostage in a motel, disciplining her by injecting her skin in the odd location to a shallow depth, then pushing the plunger to dispense the syringe’s contents just below her skin.
The dope, which is synthesized from battery acid, drain cleaner, match heads, ether starter fluid, cold tablets, and the lithium from dry cell batteries, caused the tissue to abscess, made inflamed islands of pus-filled sores in her body, rendered painful infections, unsightly sores, indelible scars.
When her docket call day came for a court appearance, he wouldn’t let her to go the courthouse, held her hostage there at the motel.
Somehow, the detective who worked the case for the Waco Police knew her exact location, and as soon as the Court issued a capias warrant, came to the precise location to serve it – in a room filled with tattooed members of the Aryan Brotherhood.
The young woman named in the warrant for a failure to appear went away to a women’s penal colony for a year.
It saved her life.
Say it again. To save her life, she had to give up a year of living in freedom.
That’s what they say.
But listen to the story.
Make up your own mind.
Meth usage involves facial disfigurement, scars, tattoos, tooth decay