Corporate plunder was long overdue a transformation and the American public was disgustingly dissatisfied with the flagrant and obvious misuse of financial advantage.
New Deli, India, the scene of the worse chemical disaster in the history of the planet killed fifteen thousand residents in 1982 and another 100,000 suffered a slow death sentence in the years since. The Senate conducted hearings intended to reproach the chemical giant, but the only result from formal hearings was a slap on the wrist. After all, many of those on the censure committee were on the chemical companies list of lobbyists. The company with deep pockets, and a succession of significantly compensated legal eagles used up much of their time in leather high back chairs on the 34th floor of an all glass structure manipulating the system to their advantage.
As a result of these arrogant legal bastard’s, CEO’s operated with a free-for-all attitude in bringing about desire to thrive even in the face of disaster. ChemCon’s most important principle was profitability! It was the employees whose lives were at risk.
“I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore”, made famous by Howard Beale played by Peter Finch in the 1976 movie NETWORK was the national rage and battle cry of “We The People” unhappy with the system of corporate greed.
Following a reward of ninety three million dollars, Jack Summers was about to embark on a lifestyle with money to burn. Attorneys guaranteed his exemption from liability - even though he was second in command at the time of the disaster which killed thousands.
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It was a bright summer day with huge marshmallow puffy clouds. The crisp early morning New England air beckoned Jack Summers as he prepared to walk out into the mid morning sun where his wife Siara was waiting in her Escalade. She too, was contented in the lifestyle of the privileged and with complete ignorance upon which she and her husband built their ruthless fortune. They were now ready to reap the rewards.
Corporate wives were more often than not, oblivious to just how much money their husband’s earned. The 5 carat diamonds flaunted in the faces of less fortunate, their lavish lifestyle: Neiman Marcus, Nordstrom, Macy’s and Tiffany accounts was a license to overindulge with endless amounts of money. Their environmentally un-friendly status symbol - the SUV was one more image of the “my plate is full - screw you” privileged group of Rolex wearing snob bitches. Not a republican among them!
There was complete lack of interest for how and where the flow of money originated. As long as the women could spend without an accounting, they were perfectly happy to look the other way even when their husbands engaged in extra-marital relationships.
Sairah pronounced (Sarah) was a beautiful Russian blonde 20 years Jack Summers’ junior. An eye-catching beauty who didn’t come from wealth. She was employed as a cocktail waitress striving to make ends meet while waiting for the multi-million dollar settlement in the tragic deaths of her husband and daughter killed in a fiery car crash when they were hit by a drunk driver who fled the scene. Ironically, the driver ran off to Russia to avoid prosecution. It pushed her to develop a dependency on prescription drugs. Her drug of choice was Valium. She began stealing money from her register to maintain her habit. One night, while seated at the bar Jack observed as she stuffed several bills into her pocket - and not the register.
At present, Summers was married to his second wife Elena, but as long as she had possession of credit cards and the Bentley convertible she turned a blind eye to his dishonest extra marital relationships.
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With the mid morning sun summoning them on the leisurely two hour drive to The Presidential Estate, in South Berwick, they were to enjoy contentment and relaxation as guests of former President Preston Cunningham and his wife Hara. Jack Summers was also a huge contributor to The Republican Party.
It was their time. They earned a comfortable retirement, one in a world where servants swiftly moved about tending to their every need, fetching iced tea or a variety of adult beverages. A world where one has not to ask for anything. A world where meals are planned in advance and served by a staff catering to their every desire. A snack in late evening was only too obliging for the 24 hour staff to prepare a bowl of cereal or bite to eat.
They were privileged and they knew it, but also gave the impression of “in the face” attitude on the employees who made them so damn rich!
Jack Summers was 57 years old and an employee of ChemCon since the age of 27. A former lawyer for the firm, he worked his way to the top by clawing, back stabbing, and doing whatever necessary to cream his opponents. Nobody in management or the “inner circle” could be trusted. They were all from the same cut of self serving bastard’s.
One was as ruthless as the other. Summers was not only in the right place at the right time, he was chosen by the board of directors to turn ChemCon into a cash cow.
Before departing the boardroom following a short but boring “through the hoops meeting”, the 12 member panel, many who were with Jack since the beginning were jubilant over his insistence that they share in a hidden offshore fund of fifty five million dollars. It was designated as a “bonus” for their loyalty in outclassing the system by hiding the money in the Cayman Islands, and to stick it to the rank and file.
GUANTANAMO BAY CUBA
MARCH, 2010
Twenty four year old Corporal Richmond Rand, was a sharpshooter and top record holder in the U.S. Marine Corps Sniper Division. An Iraqi War veteran with most kills by a sniper (34), from a distance of a mile and a half. A special documentary on The History Channel® listed him as the only person in the U.S. military to have what are considered “mouth throat kills.”
The shooter and his assistant lying in cover at the pre-arranged distance worked in unison as Rand lined up the crosshairs at the direction of the spotter - the other person assigning the coordinates. Squeezing the trigger from one and a half miles, propelled a fatal round in less than four seconds striking with gruesome accuracy ripping into the mouth and throat of the unsuspecting victim - severing the head from spinal column. The bullet enters through the front facial area and exits through the neck shattering and disconnecting the first and second cervical. The victim suffers instant death by decapitation.
Richmond was offered an extremely large re-enlistment bonus of $75,000 to extend his tour in Iraq and $100,000 if he would extend in Afghanistan, but he had enough of the killing - so he thought! With loss of his buddies from the IED’s (improvised explosive devices), he was beginning to show signs of PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was a point of disagreement and controversy with Vietnam veterans.
Following years of research and studies on those returning from Vietnam with abnormal skin conditions and various cancers, Vietnam veterans won their class action lawsuit against Danner Chemical, and a fund was set aside. Vietnam veterans were awarded damages for their medical conditions.
It’s ironic that in the 2000 census, when asked about their military service, 4,600,000 (million) people checked the box indicating they served in Vietnam when in truth only 2,500,000 (million) actually fought in the war. In all probability because once a veteran established that he or she suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or mysterious physical injuries they were, as a rule awarded back pay of up to $25,000 and a tax free monthly pension of approximately $3000.
The average compensation for a vet suffering from PTSD in addition to Social Security is about $4500.00 per month = $54,000 tax free dollars per year. Add the medication supplied by the VA medical and dental insurance which would otherwise have to be paid by the recipient and the total annual compensation is approximately $81,000.
There is opposition to the U.S. government paying what may seem like an ridiculous amount of money - but it is what it is! The laws were sanctioned by Congress to compensate the veteran for lies and deception by the chemical company and our government claiming herbicides were not used in Vietnam, and until Congress introduces a new law reducin
g or eliminating the compensation - all one can say is to “call your representative!”
Vietnam veterans are now dying at the rate of 600 per day - not to mention those who take in excess of 20 pills a day just to keep ahead of the dioxin poison in their system. In exceptional cases there are veterans who swallow 40-50 prescribed medications per day!
With the greatest respect for members of all our services, This author has a deep admiration for the Marines. It should be pointed out that once a Marine enters basic training, the ultimate objective is to taste the “gunpowder” of battle. They wait stateside to be deployed to another part of the world where there is civil unrest! They train their whole career just for the opportunity to unleash the mascot Bulldog - a ferocious and aggressive killing machine within. Many leave the Marines disappointed they never fought in the battle of Khe Sahn.
To this day, the notorious identity of “The Crazy Vietnam Vet” is a dishonor associated with many veterans. Men who served a 20 year plus career in the military, but never experienced combat in Vietnam are of the assumption that they are by far, more important!
It is only through the action of a handful of Vietnam veterans in 1981 in which Congress, with the aid and support of Democratic Senator Paul Baseball, also a Vietnam veteran enacted legislation to recognize PTSD for past, present and future veterans. At long last, a difficult and obstinate public recognized the plight and sacrifice of World War II, Korean, Vietnam, The Gulf War, Iraqi, and Afghanistan veterans.
As a result of Vietnam veterans testifying before the Senate House and Appropriations Committee in the mid 1980’s, veterans from all the wars (WWI. WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan) and practically all vets from all wars, following 65 years of arguments and battle were finally awarded proper compensation.
There are those who argue as a result of the broad hand of compensatory expenditures - there will always be those who manipulate the system. Absolutely! But, you don’t see these same pessimistic souls admonishing the farm subsidy entitlements where billions of dollars are paid out every twelve months - not to grow corn, wheat, or reprimand the oil companies for their hands in the pork barrel.
With Vietnam veterans the U.S. government refused to recognize PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). However, after much debate, the Veterans Administration finally accepted it as an illness. In World War II, it was known as shell shock and many veterans ended up in insane asylums. In Korea it was commonly assumed to be combat fatigue, but it was Vietnam which forced Congress and the nation to grasp the true meaning of the disorder.
In Iraq and Afghanistan commanding generals are arranging for treatment of the illness. As a result of the recognition, the Veterans Administration was swamped with a backlog of 650,000 current applications. Now you tell me, when the attitude is “get a life,” how many of these men and women affected by PTSD as a result of fighting in The Gulf War, Iraq and Afghanistan are the big and bad Marines? Count them again!
At the existing pace it is estimated to take three years just to review an claim. It has taken the Vietnam veteran and a tireless amount of lobbying to finally persuade Congress to agree to a compensation schedule for all veterans especially the Gulf War, Iraqi and Afghan veterans. It’s not only financial compensation that has the spotlight - but the suicide and homeless veteran rate. Twenty percent of all Gulf War, Iraqi and Afghan veterans are homeless!
Richmond Rand was troubled with PTSD, but ignorant of the consequence it would play in life after the Marines. The son of a lobsterman, he was raised in the coastal seaside community of Ogunquit, Maine and raised Presbyterian. His mother a teacher of the bible, but his father was a hard drinker. When lobstering was good, their father was gentle and caring - but when the catch was not going well, life in the “ideal” house with the white picket fence frequently burst into turmoil driven by alcohol.
Ogunquit, is a charming seaside resort town of 1225 residents. In summer, the population mushroomed to thousands as vacationers the world over swamped the bed and breakfast establishments, hotels and motels. Known as “A Beautiful Place By The Sea” Ogunquit has a number of LGBT’s: (lesbians, gay, bisexual and transgender) business owners who live and operate their businesses in the village. Originally part of the town of Wells, it was incorporated a town in 1980.
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He was born Richmond Alan Rand on December 19, 1985 at Memorial Hospital in Wells, Maine - three minutes later Richard arrived. An identical twin, he and his brother are among the only people in the world who share the same DNA. Identical twins are the result of one fertile egg splitting into two identical eggs. Apart from different fingerprints and slight birthmark irregularities identical twins can be difficult from which to make a distinction.
Richmond was in trouble with the law at an early age. Nothing serious, but the kind that worried his parents, asking themselves how this Christian family could have gone wrong.
One night, he and one of his buddies broke into a liquor store and helped themselves to a bottle of Jack Daniels, and several six packs of beer. It wasn’t long before police zeroed in on the two identified by a security cameras. Richmond’s parents were furious! Barely 17, the judge gave the young man an option: three years in prison or he could join the military. Always a bit of a maverick - Richmond loved guns and chose the Marines.
Prior to entering the service, the Department of Defense required what is known as a TDIR (Twin Detection Insertion Record). Whenever an identical twin entered the military both subjects are obligated to be finger printed and a series of photographs taken to ensure the twin entering the service is in compliance with meeting the requirements avoiding any future exchange of identity. In the case of the Rand brothers they would endure a series of close - micro photos. These boys were impossible to tell apart. Fingerprints are usually proof enough to make a distinction but in the case of the Rand brothers, even their fingerprints were so alike the specialist documenting the boys couldn’t tell them apart.
Within months Richmond cleaned himself up and the Marines put his life back on track. Selected for the sniper unit, and consumed with perfection, he practiced with torso targets up to a mile away, and eventually worked the distance to an amazing mile and a half.
Small in stature, only 5’8” but clean and tidy he was a model Marine who would have made one hell of an officer had he made a career in the service. Those with whom he worked considered him a self-confident worker. He was quickly becoming the best and he knew it. Following many sessions of exhausting practice he was one of the finest snipers thus, earning the title “greatest marksman” in the military. He didn’t accept defeat - there was no such word in his vocabulary. However, PTSD possessed its grip and disturbing signs of unusual behavior.
As much as his commanding officer made an effort to persuade him to remain in the service, it was an attempt in ineffectiveness. If, on the other hand, he were to remain in the military he would eventually surrender to the harshness of reality - yielding to a younger person - with the prospect of becoming a weapons instructor.
He served his country well - and with distinction, but time was not on his side. At the tender young age of twenty four he was just beginning to struggle with the effects of PTSD. What would he do once released from the Marines? There wasn’t a need for snipers in civilian life. At best, he could work as a police officer or security guard.
In the Marines he was a person of value, someone who commanded respect from his superiors and subordinates. In a way, he was like a Medal Of Honor recipient. There wouldn’t be a place or occasion when he would not receive the respect and admiration for his accomplishments.
His release date was quickly approaching but only to face unemployment. Richmond Rand spent 7-1/2 years in the Marines and the thought of abandoning his only significance was frightening.
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March 23, 2010. He collected his personal items, made one last trip to the paymaster at Guantanamo to settle
on his final military pay: $2293.80. As far as the Marines were concerned they were just moments away from release of all responsibility. On the other hand, they would have reserved a place for him he decided to re-enlist.
As luck would have it, his former point man in Iraq was to be discharged at the same time. Curt Whitmore was in no small part the reason Richmond was so successful. It was Whitmore, who calculated the coordinates in the snipers nest. and also lived the same disciplined life. He too, displayed signs of PTSD, and like that of Richmond Rand expressed no desire to remain in the Marines.
Whitmore was a farm boy from West Brookfield, Massachusetts. A small New England town located in the center of the state approximately 1 hour from the world renowned Berkshires and Tanglewood, the summer home of The Boston Pops. In the summer months folks gathered, spreading blankets and preparing picnic baskets for a sunny afternoon or twinkling starry evening of music. It was filled with a rich New England culture.
It was a nice place to live or retire. With scarcely any industry, West Brookfield is a bedroom community accommodating the wealthy from the nearby rolling hills of Connecticut and as far away as Boston.
Following their discharge the men returned to Ogunquit, taking up residence in a converted old barn used as a boat shelter on the property Richmond’s parents old farm - the house was an original salt box house built in 1720. There was electricity, a sofa, one hot plate, coffee pot, TV a college sized refrigerator and a bed.