Profile of an Exiled Soviet
I was stationed at Ft. Meade MD working at the now infamous National Security Agency (NSA). I was a Russian linguist and an intelligence analyst. That was back in the late 80's. My Russian language skills were a little rusty so my boss decided to sign me up for a Russian refresher course. Myself and several companions in uniform were sent to take classes at an off sight location. It was a nice four week break from the usual hum drum boring job I did at the agency.
That is where I met Mrs. Estulin. She was our teacher, and she had an amazing story. Like most people who come out of the Soviet Union she had stories to tell of life there. They all sound pretty much the same, except for one thing. Her husband had worked for the KGB.
Well, everyone in American hears the term “KGB” and it conjures up images of Soviet bullies, torture and murder of innocent people, oppression etc. The term KGB is an acronym like “CIA” and “NSA” and it means pretty much the same. It stands for Committee for State Security or in Russian it is Ko-mi-tet Ga-su-darst-ven-oi Bez-opast-nasti. It is the Soviet security branch which functions exactly like the security branch in any country. But when we think KGB we think “monsters”. That was not the case with Mrs. Estulin's husband. Mrs. Estulin's husband was a scientist and by her report and her son's report he was a good man. He had a conscience. When we think KGB we think of murderous thugs. But Mrs. Estulin's husband was in the business of saving lives not destroying them. In fact he went against the grain. He worked at supporting people the agency was trying to destroy. He helped people to escape the clutches of the Russian Bear. He also spoke out in favor of free speech, and eventually their government decided to exile him and his family.
Their son's name was Daniel. He would have been about twelve years old at the time. I want you to imagine a twelve year old boy who had aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. By Mrs. Estulin's report they were celebrated people in their community. They were loved. They had a cadre of family and friends like most American families do. One day Daniel is down at the creek with his buddies. They are at the swimming hole jumping off the railroad bridge with a rope and diving into the water below. They are laughing and splashing and having a good time. They may have spent some time sitting on the edge of the river with a stick and a hook and string on it catching some fish. Daniel might have had some to bring home to his mama and papa when he came home. I can see him saying good buy to his friends as they each head to their respective home. Daniel comes home carrying three fish on the end of a string. He comes through the door with a smile on his face proud of his catch. Mama can fix them for dinner. “See what I caught! We can have them for dinner, yes?” Then he sees that something is wrong. The atmosphere in the home is dead silent. Mama is sitting at the table sipping a cup of tea and wiping tears from her eyes. His papa is standing staring into the fireplace with a somber look on his face. Daniel thinks someone must have died. “What's wrong?” He is afraid he is going to hear that someone close to him has perished or something. His Papa looks at him and says, “Come here son.” and takes him to sit on the sofa in front of the fire place. He wraps his arms around his boy whom he loves deeply. Tears are spilling down his cheeks now and he kisses his son on the forehead. “Son, we have to leave here. You, me and your mama. We have to go.” Daniel does not know what that means. “Go. Where? Why? For how long?” “Forever my son. The government says we have to leave the country. We cannot live here anymore and we cannot ever come back.”
Daniel is stunned. The implications of those words begin to tear away at his tender heart. He will have to say goodbye forever to his friends, his grandma and grandpa and uncles and aunts and cousins. He may likely never see them again. Daniel sits in stunned silence. Mrs. Estulin comes to join her husband and her son on the sofa. She puts her arm around her son and looks at him in the face. She knows what he is feeling. “We will have each other. We are a family and we will stick together.” Daniel begins wiping tears from his eyes. These things happen when you live in a communist country. He knew it was a possibility.
Within days Daniel and his mother and father are boarding an airplane. Like everyone else who leaves the Soviet Union they leave behind all their possessions. They have no luggage. They have a very little bit of money in their pockets. They are heading to America. They know no one there. They have no idea what they are going to do when they get there.
Mrs. Estulin and her family survived because they are Soviets and they understand hardship. The land of the brave and the home of the free has nothing over on Mrs. Estulin or Daniel or her husband. There was no one to help them when they got to American but they got up on their feet. I researched the Estulin family online and found very little. Daniel never discusses being a resident in America and every report I read except one said they lived in Canada. I found one report that said they arrived in New York penniless and homeless and no where to turn. I can't locate that report now. I do know that the family name is Jewish. I know Mrs. Estulin went to work for the NSA, and her husband, not surprisingly, was not able to find work. His resume probably looked a little scary to most American businesses. They lived in a small apartment in Maryland.
So I remember Mrs. Estulin sitting there in class pronouncing her name for us. “Es-tu-lin” “That's not a slavic name” I said. “No,” she said, “It's polish.” One day our sweet little instructor from the Soviet Union invited us to her home for lunch. While we were there I remarked on a beautiful chest of drawers she had sitting in her living room. It was red and decorated with green and yellow flowers and grass and trimmed in gold. Mrs. Estulin said, “It is the only thing I have left from our home. When our friends or family came over for visits they would bring pieces of it for me. They brought it over board by board and knob by knob. When we had all the pieces we put it back together.” Amazing determination these Soviets have.
Then in walks this young man. He was skinny wearing bell bottom blue jeans and has a busy pony tail. He was 20 years old. His mother, beamingwith pride introduces us to her son Daniel and she said, “He is studying to be a journalist.” We smiled and said hello to Daniel. I was siting on the sofa in the living room waiting with the rest of my companions for our instructor to serve us lunch. I watched the skinny college guy reach down to the bottom of that beautiful chest of drawers and pull out a camera with a long lens. I took note of that busy pony tail. He saw we staring at him. Oops. So he sat down at the sofa opposite me and stared back. I didn't know what to say so I said, “So why do you want to be a journalist?” “I want influence” he replied. “Oh,” came my very intelligent response. We didn't know what to say to each other so Daniel excused himself and left the apartment. Daniel was 20. I was 27 at the time.
Mrs. Estulin fixed us Borscht, a very traditional Russian stew with sour crème. It was delicious. Then she served us a concoction of fruit cock-tale, vanilla pudding and some alcoholic beverage. It was called drunkards cake. I took one bite and I was done. I don't do alcohol, and I simply couldn't eat it. “I'm sorry. I really can't eat this” I said smiling apologetically. Mrs. Estulin was not offended. We sat and chatted for awhile and then we returned to our classroom. We went down an elevator to the bottom floor where we piled into various cars to leave. At the bottom of the stairs Mrs. Estulin's husband came around the corner looking kind of shy. I remember a largish man, tall with graying hair that was longish and curly. He smiled at us when Mrs. Estulin introduced us. Then I heard a camera snap. I turned around to see Daniel sitting on the hood of a vehicle staring back at me. He smiled, and I returned his smile.
I did not see Daniel anymore and when our class was ended we said goodbye to our sweet teacher.
It was not until years and years later when I became a target of a group of covert operators carrying out a devilish scheme that I remembered Daniel.
I left the military in 1988 and went to work as a case manager for a county board of MRDD. I started researching in 2007 after I resigned my job of 18 years there. The criminal act that was committed against me still continues. It made no sense to me a the time. I couldn't imagine anything like this happening in America let alone to me. Someone was out to get me and they did some serious damage to my life. Covert operations, black ops etc. are designed to destroy someone's life while making it look like things just happened in what Liminy Snickets calls a series of unfortunate events. Covert operators do their best to make it look the victim is really insane. Therefore no one listens when the victim tries to complain. It is a trick as old as the hills and something that Soviets are very familiar withr. Only this wasn't the Soviet Union. This was American, the land of the brave and the home of the free?. In America we call it gangstalking. It is also referred to as COINTELPRO, or the counterintelligence program that was outlawed in the Senate Investigation Hearings in the 70's.
While I was researching I was reading books that I normally would not have read. I am a believer, and when I go to the bookstore I look for things that are spiritually nourishing and enriching. However, the Christian bookstores did not have anything that would explain black ops to me. So I looked elsewhere. I spent a lot of time on the web and at Amazon.com. Over a period of 4 years I read a boat load of material that opened my eyes to the dangers that are surrounding all of us here in America which we have largely been shielded from by design by a very deceitful government. One of the books I ran across was a book by journalist Daniel Estulin, The True Story of the Builderbergers. In his book he describes his encounters with a group of wealthy businessmen, diginitarires and public officials from around the world that are conspiring to create a one world government. This group largely dictates policy in America and also determines who gets elected to the office of the President. What they are doing is sinister and illegal. In 1996 Daniel became aware of a plot by the Builderbergers to combine Canada, the US and Mexico into one nation which would result in dissolving the constitutions of all those nations. The move was scheduled for 2005. Daniel and a group of his journalist friends exposed their actions to the press and their plans were not stopped but postponed. Daniel was a resident of Canada at the time. In 2011 the North American Perimiter agreement was signed by Baraak Obama and the Canadian Prime minister Steven Harper. This is the first step in accomplish the Bilderberger agenda.
Daniel's book is full of pictures. There are pictures of the patrons of the Bilderberger group, pictures of documents leaked to him by a friend on the inside, and pictures of Daniel defying security guards while he is snapping photos of this secret meeting. There he is, this journalist with a busy pony tail, snapping photos. I looked at all those pictures and suddenly I had a flashback. I saw a young man reaching down into a beautiful chest of drawers and pulling out a camera with a long lens. I had one of those OMG moments. I remembered.
How long had it been, 25 years? I remembered our two second conversation. “So why do you want to be a journalist?” “I want influence.” “Oh.” Now I understand. Now I can see clearly why it was so important to him. Now I am watching a dictator taking control of my own country and I know exactly what is coming. Daniel is watching the same thing happening around the world. He knows what is coming too. He gets discouraged while he is trying his best to sound the alarm and the complacent, satisfied people in America and around the world barely take notice.
I go to the web every now and then to check up on Daniel. I have seen pain in his eyes. I have watched his hair fall out. I watched his health fail and I watched his get back up on his feet. He has had some hard knocks in life. But he is as resilient as any Soviet who has ever tasted freedom. Like any Soviet he understand better than most Americans that freedom is nothing to be taken for granted. He excelled like other Soviets who leave the Soviet Union and come to the West. He grasped the idea of freedom and he spread his wings to fly and refuses to be shot out of the sky. He is older now. He has lost all of his hair. Like a velveteen rabbit, he is worn and somewhat broken. But he is still trying to influence those who will listen to him.
Daniel is now a resident of Spain. He writes mostly in Spanish and I don't read Spanish, but I managed to translate a little of one of his books, The Tavistock Institute. In it he says, “We do not surrender!” No, Daniel we don't. We who are real Americans who understand the lie and the liar do not surrender. Even we who are being targeted do not surrender. The stakes are much too high.
I do remember he and his mother showing up at my church one Sunday in Severn Maryland. Severn Baptist Church was my church home when I was stationed in Maryland. I wanted to reach out to them and welcome them but my fellow believers had surrounded them and I could not get anywhere close. On Daniel's web page he lists himself as Taoist. So I will pray for Daniel. Daniel is a very sweet kindly soul. I wish for him many friends and lots of godly people to surroud him and support him, and he needs support. Yes, Daniel has enemies, people who, if they could get away with it, would kill him. They have tried. God has ordained some people in this world to accomplish certain things and I believe Daniel is one of them. Though Daniel may not understand the Christian faith, though he believes there is a God, God knows who Daniel is and God put him here for a purpose. He is a front line soldier in the thick of a terrible battle. He doesn't have "full armour" that we have. Though I know my savior and his heart, and Daniel is in his sight.