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The Full Story: Parts 6-end, with more pics

Discussion in 'The Lounge' started by mountainexplorer, Mar 21, 2006.

  1. mountainexplorer

    mountainexplorer 1/2 ton status

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    Location:
    Spokane, Wa./Ione, Wa
    Please understand that all parts of this story are from my point of view only. My ending is based on what I believe also, and I am in no way asking or forcing anyone to agree with all of my statements. But as far as real life facts go, the the best of my knowledge I have kept everything as true as I can remember. Some details have been left out for insignificance or lack of knowing exactly what happened.



    VI. The Last Night


    Friday I slept in late. I finally got up to a full house of people. Many visitors were dropping by including Leonora’s aunt and relative, and also Danny’s Ex-girlfriend and their daughter (he had a daughter with another woman also). His ex’s sister and mother were also there, to see “grandpa” Esteban and “grandma” Rosita before they left.
    [​IMG]
    We ran for a last minute souvenir run to find the store closed… but they saw us at the door and re-opened for us. I had a request by a couple friends for some cloth and wooden statues from the Philippines, so that’s what I got. We returned home and the house was full of relatives and friends. This was the last night. We would leave by bus at 4am Saturday morning to Manila to catch our noon flight out of the country. I stood and talked with Rudy on the deck, about him and Irish and sympathized with him and how he was feeling. He played the guitar and I could hear the sadness in his voice. He told me that he wouldn’t be riding with us to the airport because it would be less painful for them to say the goodbyes at the house plus the long travel distance.
    Rudy and my cousin Irish
    [​IMG]

    My cousin Alden with wife Olive and son Kim
    [​IMG]

    The kids
    [​IMG]

    Much was going on. In the kitchen a meal was being cooked, the kids were running around playing, I carried Kim around in his box, and got my cousin Danny, Wilson, Alden and Irish to all play pinball and solitaire on the laptop. The TV was on, there was talking and laughter and conversation. A contractor was there talking with my mom and Leonora about some apartment projects in the city and repairs to the house we were in. Soon, they were calling me to eat. Since I scarffed down two Big Macs again that afternoon, I wasn’t hungry. So I sat there on the couch along with Dave and others watching my cousins play games on the computer and helping them with the controls. Danny’s 5-year old son Daniel sat down next to me… “Uncle Allan”… and put his head on my lap and watched the computer games. Then a few minutes later his grandpa (my uncle Esteban) called him into eat and he got up and went into the kitchen along with Danny. My cousin Ruby joked with me about not eating enough rice and losing weight, saying a Big Mac wasn’t enough. I got up to walk outside to see how everyone on the porch was doing when all of a sudden something changed.


    I froze and stepped back to look towards where the noise was coming from. In the kitchen just over from where I was standing, it sounded like little explosions. At first I thought maybe we overloaded the electrical box and it was blowing up… cause I saw flashes of light reflecting from somewhere. Then for a split second I thought it was a loud bunch of fireworks one of the kids had gotten and lit off by accident. It sounded like broken china or glass and I saw things in the kitchen moving real quick but couldn’t tell what it was for sure it happened so quickly. When the loud noise stopped it changed to the screaming and crying of everyone in the kitchen. It then hit me what had just happened.

    At about the same time I saw my uncle hit the floor bleeding I was yelling for people to get down just as they were. Everything was frantic in the house as I still moved half in disbelief at what happened. I got my mom to come in the door and we all hit the floor. By this moment everyone else who wasn’t in the kitchen knew what happened. I kept yelling at people to get down, but couldn’t understand or communicate with my cousins very well… since this was not a time to try and spell out slow English. All I did was try and make sure people were down on the floor as my cousin Alden and Rudy cautiously but quickly ran into the kitchen and helped everyone out of there away from the window. The women were screaming frantically. I saw them carry out 5-year old Daniel covered in blood looking totally limp… my uncle Esteban was still up but holding his chest/shoulder bleeding in the living room. Irish stood next to Danny and helped tie a towel around his right arm that had gotten shot. Then I saw Alden carry out my mom’s best friend Leonora in his arms. Within moments they got the 4 injured out of the house and down to a taxi and car and rushed them to the hospital.


    For us still in the house, we had no idea what was going on. Everyone who wasn’t crying or screaming was speaking quickly in a language I couldn’t understand. I hadn’t want those who did to run out the front of the house because I didn’t know who might be out there. But they risked their own lives to do anything they could to save the wounded. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where the hospital was or how to contact the police or how to talk to anyone even if I did. Thoughts ran through my mind thinking… is this an attack on us because Americans were in the house?... is this a random shooting?... could the house be surrounded by more people trying to kill all of us? All I could do is stay there amidst the screams and cries and keep telling all of us there in the livingroom to stay down and try and calm down and get the noise down. My mom was screaming “it’s all my fault… it’s my fault!” as my aunt was balling and all the other women in the house were crying. I looked around again in partial disbelief at what had just happened. I felt anger for those who had done it. I felt fear for the safety of everyone. I felt helplessness as I didn’t have the means to do anything else but sit there with everyone.


    We got all the lights off and I turned off the TV and flipped the computer closed. I held 4-year old Kim under me as he was crying, trying to calm him down covering him as much as I could in case something happened again as his mom Olive and others with cell phones started calling the police and anyone they could. Outside our house there was now silence. No neighbors ran to help. I listened for anything outside as the sobs from inside slowly quieted down to whimpers. I couldn’t see for sure who was where. But I tried to hold onto Irish’s shoulder who was crying not knowing what happened to her boyfriend Rudy, or her brother, father or nephew. I started hearing prayers from the crying… asking for God’s protection and guidance. I prayed too. I put it in God’s hands because there was nothing else I could do. The wounded were on their way to the hospital, the lights were off, and the door was closed.

    Outside despite the silence I started to hear loud explosions in the distance. I almost thought there was some big military conflict going on in the entire town. My mom had calmed down enough I went over to her and asked what the sounds were. She was able to reply that they were big fireworks going on in a town celebration. That relieved me some, but still I wanted to know who did this to us and why. I thought it out… this house is a very safe house… and where the gunshots came from I knew exactly the one vulnerable point. I had just walked to there in the backyard that morning… thinking that the concrete wall in the far corner should be a bit higher. Still, no one could get into the yard with the steel bar fencing built above the wall. But the steps on the other side of the wall at that point could allow someone the position to see and aim into the kitchen window. The “how” in my mind started to come together. But still the question of why baffled me and I was mad. I didn’t know how badly little Daniel or Leonora were… and seeing a 5 year old looking limp being carried out made me want to tear the people responsible apart.


    Then soon someone came up the stairs. It was Leonora’s nephew Martin and a friend. They had been on the phone with her at the time when they heard gunshots, the phone drop and screaming over the line. So they came over as quickly as possible. We had them duck down and we checked out the front window looking for activity outside. Nothing. It seems all too long of a time… yet all so quick just the same.


    Finally, we see a rotating light. The police arrive. All the women are still extremely worried and I can’t go anywhere without them telling me to get back down again. I turn on the video camera and start taping just in case anything else happened and sounds may be necessary for any evidence. Rudy came back in the door and I yelled in a low tone to a scared and worried Irish “Rudy’s here! Rudy’s here!” The police and SWAT team checked the area to be clear. My aunt Rosita was torn apart emotionally. As others got up to move around finally she wouldn’t move. I kneeled down behind her and tried to support her and hold her. We got the other women out of there and Danny’s daughter. Others showed up… family of Olive’s, and Willy’s brother Albert. Alden, Rudy, Wilson and Ruby had all made it safely to the hospital with the 4 injured.


    We started to assess the damage. Blood was on the floor from the kitchen out the front doorway. The kitchen window was broken out where 9 shots made it through from two guns… a .45 and a 9mm. The police and investigator took photos and made a report. Two shots went through the chair my uncle was in. He was hit twice. Two shots hit a wall, and three other shots hit another wall, between the kitchen and a bedroom where the phone was. Leonora was on the phone in the other room when two of the bullets that passed through the wall hit her in the lower back and arm. My cousin Danny was hit once in the right upper arm, and his son Daniel twice… once in the cheek and side. My uncle Esteban was hit twice.

    My aunt Rosita, Uncle Esteban and their 5-year old grandson Daniel
    [​IMG]

    Bernalyn and my cousin Danny, daughter Danilyn, and son Daniel
    [​IMG]


    My mom's best friend Leonora and my mom
    [​IMG]

    The dinner plates were still set… food half dished out. It’s like the setting was frozen in a moment of time, but all the people and livelihood of it were removed. The bustling happiness and noises of people together in love and peacefulness was ripped apart and halted to a scene of terror. It felt like a good movie was stopped at near its end abruptly and recorded over with a movie of nightmarish events. In that moment I heard the gunshots, everything changed.
    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
    [​IMG]

    The other side of the wall in the bedroom where Leonora was sitting.
    [​IMG]

    Talking with my mom more, I got some answers to my questions. Those family members I had gotten the feeling of disconnection about… whom I had not met before and didn’t have information about… these are people with jealousy. This is not just jealousy, but a deep form of it that has turned to such and evil hatred that no crime is too far anymore. My mom does all she can to live her life here in the United States in an unselfish manner. Since she met my dad and they were married and moved here… they had me… and helped my grandpa become a US citizen. Along with my mom they both worked hard… and my mom still works hard every day. She has done all she can to raise me, and to help out all the family she can in the Philippines. It is impossible for one person to be able to help every single person in such a large family. It is only possible to help who you can… which is better than helping no one.

    For this, has spawned jealousy. Minds that think that she favors certain family members over others; Minds that feel that others in the family should not be allowed to have better opportunities; For because my mom has spent years going through legal papers and finally has been able to get her younger sister Rosita, her husband Esteban and their daughter Irish the chance to come to America to work. It is for this reason, that Rosita and Esteban and their family, my mom and myself had become targets to stop this effort. They knew when our flight for the United States would leave the next day. They hired at least two gunmen to wait for the night before we left when we would all be in the Baguio house. They scouted the house to find the one vulnerable spot. They waited until after dark and until dinner… the night when sounds of fireworks were in the air all around to blend in the sound of gunfire. They knew who to take out and that by taking out certain people it would halt and ruin all the years of planning and legal paperwork. To take out Esteban or Rosita, any of their children, or my mom or me would accomplish their goal; Because of jealousy.

    I took my mom aside and discussed our options. We knew who the targets were and who was in danger now. Rosita would not leave now on that flight. Esteban her husband was in the hospital and could not and would not leave. Their son Danny and grandson Daniel were also. To hurt someone you don’t have to shoot each person you’re trying to stop… they only need to hurt a loved one and they did that. Leonora was an accident in the other room… not even a target or having anything to do with the family issues, yet she also has to pay because other people’s hatred. If things got bad at the hospital, and my mom had to stay, I told her that we need to send Mike and Dave home at least… because they would stand out and being with us would make them targets. I could physically leave but would not leave her there alone if she would not leave. Time would tell. It all depended on how bad the damage was.

    We packed up our things and luggage. Leaving originally was going to be a time of happiness and sadness… happiness to go home and sadness for saying goodbye to those we came close too the last three weeks. But now, preparations to leave were done in a silence that twisted those emotions all around… a desire to get home to be away from what happened, yet a remorse for not wanting to leave with an ending like this… and ending that was still uncertain. The only certainty was that no happiness would be felt.

    After the police had left, Albert remained with several friends. He is an official of the Baranguay. I am not sure of the actual power or position it holds, but I get the impression that since his cousin Leonora was also shot in an attempted murder case, that if those responsible are found, they will disappear without a trial. He told us that he had people watching us for our protection. We also planned to go to his house until we had to leave at 4:00 am for Manila. We got all packed up and ready to go. Willy came back into Baguio too as soon as he got word. We loaded up into Albert’s truck and Willy’s van and went to the Hospital where everyone was at. Alden and Olive with Kim stayed at the house alone. They went to stay the night upstairs in the master bedroom. There, no gunfire can reach anyone and no one can get into the yard or house once locked down. I walked into the front door one more time and looked in the house all around. A scene that three weeks earlier had been so new and so exciting. I took one last look at the picture of my dad Alden Lundberg, my mom and myself that had hung on the wall since the house was built. It was March 17th, 2006; nine years to the day my dad died.
    [​IMG]



    VII. The Morning After


    I hugged Olive and Kim and shook my cousin Alden’s hand in a gesture of “goodbye” that was filled with a sorrow of a different nature. I closed the gate and locked it one last time and looked at the lettering at the gate that said Lundberg Residence. And off we drove into the dark down the hill for the last time.


    We parked at the hospital and Albert and his friends and Willy stood guard at the vehicles. If everyone injured would be alright, it was our best plan to take Irish with us so she would be out of danger and all of us that we could get on the flight as scheduled. Then, when Leonora would recover, she and Rosita could make the flight to Spokane a few weeks later. Esteban said he would not leave knowing all his other children are over here and may be in danger.


    We went up to see Leonora. She was going to be ok. The lower bullet had just missed her kidney. She would need recovery time but would be ok. We went to see my Uncle Esteban. He was conscious and was going to be alright as well. Little Daniel lay in a bed beside him… unconscious and on oxygen. There was fear of him being paralyzed or other complications. But he would at least make it. I felt so mad at what happened yet so sorry for the little guy at the same time. How can anyone knowingly and willingly shoot at a young innocent child?


    They brought my cousin Danny into the room too. Once he woke up he was in tears… his arm was shot and in pain… his father shot, and his own 5-year-old son shot. I still sat there in disbelief… looking at the scene I was at when just hours before I never could have imagined anything like this. I thought back- to how messed up I thought the night before leaving the US was with my trailer wheel studs ripping out and my tire flying off on the highway. That seemed an all too happy of a situation now compared to the night before flying home.


    My face was still rigid and expressionless as it had been since I first heard the noise in the kitchen. Any emotion I was feeling… anger, sadness, sympathy, confusion… was all bottled up cancelling each other out. Danny wanted me to come over to him. He took my hand and told me that they would be ok and God would watch over them. I replied back saying that I also knew God would take care of them. He then asked me to watch over his little sister Irish. Looking into his eyes I felt all the emotions of crying yet I still couldn’t cry. I held his hand and nodded my head.

    Little Daniel was moving around some. I hoped that he would not wake up to feel the pain. Nurses gave him some shot and antibiotics and he stayed peaceful. At least we knew he would not be paralyzed. The clock was passing 4:00 am. Irish had to say goodbye to her father lying in the hospital bed. I put my hand over Daniel one last time, remembering how ten hours earlier he was climbing on my back and laying next to me on the couch. My mom emptied out most of what was left of the money we had and gave it to the family for hospital fees. They have no resources to pay for something like this on their own.


    We got a van with a driver that checked out to be legitimate. I had my worries about how far this little “conspiracy” was supposed to go for. Was it over? Or was there more? We transferred the luggage directly over from Albert’s truck. We said goodbye to the family outside the hospital doors. Ruby took me aside with tears in her eyes and asked me to tell her mother, my aunt Patricia here in Spokane, that her and Wilson were doing alright. I hugged her and said I would. I shook Wilson’s hand… and though he did not speak any English, we understood each other. Irish had to say goodbye to her mother… and I also hugged aunt Rosita goodbye as she said to me that they would make it alright. I shook Albert’s hand and nodded to his friends that watched out for us. Dave, Mike, my mom, Irish and I loaded into the van. Rudy also came with to accompany us… now that the circumstances had changed, there was no easy way to say goodbye. But she needed his support for as long as we could extend it. I shook Willy’s hand and told him we’d see him again, and thanks… and gave another thanks to Albert. And then we were off as I looked back out my window at these people I barely knew yet loved and gave one last wave goodbye.


    Seven to eight hours is the usual drive time from Baguio City to Manila I am told. Our driver understood our situation… our noon flight takeoff time and the fact we needed to be at the airport by 10am. It was just after 4:30 am when we left Baguio in the dark.


    Down the windy mountain rod we went southbound. I hadn’t eaten for a long time. The curves in the road and the headache I had gotten made my body feel so badly I was tingling all over like numbness. My face still expressionless and I felt like I was half asleep or that my body needed sleep. My eyes got wet yet I didn’t cry… as if I was crying but my body was non-responsive. Was I sick to my stomach over what happened? My stomach felt as if I should throw up yet there was nothing left in it and it felt as if it were folding up over itself inside. Was I tired from no sleep or sick from not eating? I didn’t care. I had the nights events playing over and over again in my head… the gunshots in the kitchen, the screams, the sadness and pain I saw in all the faces of my family. I zoned in and out of being awake and half asleep my entire body still tingling. An abrupt thump made me alert again to reality, and we all looked to see a bat that hit the van’s windshield. Someone in back said “I hope that’s a good luck sign cause we could use it”. Again I zoned in and out off and on for the next several hours.

    We stopped in a town along the way about four hours north of Manila for a bathroom break and something to drink. I got up and out and felt sore all over yet still numb in some way. And I still felt sick with a bad headache. After going to the bathroom and went and sat back in the van. Rudy handed me a can of Coke. Yet for some reason I wasn’t thirsty or hungry. I set it beside me and we continued on. Our driver was driving as fast as he could, passing any slower vehicles to get us there in time. If anyone had tried to follow us from Baguio, we would have lost them miles back. I nodded off asleep several times, awaking once in a while to the bright sunlight in my eyes. I started watching the road, looking at the fields and clouds. I looked at how the sunlight danced across the land in the morning… and phased into a memory standing in my front yard in Spokane on March 17th 1997 looking at the warm sunlight on the grass thinking “life must go on”.


    I started feeling better and awake and drank the Coke. The roads got better as we neared Manila. We got to the Manila Airport just after 9:30 am. My mom paid the driver with all the last pesos she had plus I gave him some US money for the remainder. We had 2 minutes at the unloading zone to get out of the van. This was the hardest part for Irishlyn; to let go of Rudy at such a hasty last goodbye… to leave her land without her mom… without her dad who still in the hospital. But it was the safest thing for her.




    VIII. Home is so Distant



    As we lifted off from ground, she held her stuffed Pooh Bear tightly and had her face against it and cried. That was end of last physical grounded connection she had to the land that was her home… where those that she loved were left behind. I wanted to put my arm around her or do or say something… but I didn’t know what. I’ve never been a touchy-feely or emotional type person. I’ve never had a little sister before… but I wanted to do what I promised Danny and watch over her like a brother. And here we were… my mom and I… her family as well, but unfamiliar family with the exception of the last three weeks. In some ways I felt I was still a stranger. And I left her be with her bear and I sat next to her and closed my eyes and cried silently too- for her- for all that had happened; for the pain in everyone’s hearts.


    I felt so uncomfortable the whole way. My legs felt sore and I couldn’t get comfortable in any position. Falling asleep was difficult. I talked with Dave about a few things and tried to get our minds of the bad, yet we would always somehow come back to what had just happened. I wanted to be home. I wanted to set foot in my own house. Yet home was still so far away. I wanted all of the previous night’s occurrences to vanish like waking up from a bad dream. But unlike a dream, reality cannot be forgotten so easily. And no matter what comforts of home may come back to me or any of us, the memories of the evil that night will always haunt us in some way.


    We have left three of us behind that should be with us right now on this flight. Twelve hours ago we saw no obstacles ahead. I remembered envisioning welcoming my aunt, uncle and cousin to our home in Spokane and showing them around; waking up all of the next week with a happy feeling in my heart of getting to know my own family better. Now it has all changed. That feeling is now so distant.


    Airport security… baggage checks… waiting in line… it all seemed so difficult and like a long process that would go on forever. How much more must we endure to just get home. From Korea to Seattle was a ten hour flight. Not as bad as the 14 hour flight from LA to Korea, but still such a long ways. As the sun set as we skimmed over the clouds, I slept as much as I could and was uncomfortable the whole time. It seemed so long ago that I was sitting next to my grandpa bringing him back home. Now he is finally at home where he can feel like he belongs. And now we are here going back to Spokane where we first started only three weeks ago. In a way the last night alone felt like it put over three weeks of burden on us all. As we crossed time zones over the Pacific, morning came again… March 18th all over again as we neared America.



    The flight seemed so long but just feeling the landing gear touch ground in the U.S.A. felt so good at 11:15 am. We had made the majority distance of our travel safe thus far. Home is so close. We have had seven seats reserved in advance on a flight from Seattle to Spokane at 5:00pm. It seemed like a long wait for the connecting flight but we used the first couple hours going through immigration for Irish, baggage claim, baggage security checks, inspections, and other hassles. We attempted to get transferred to an earlier flight but all were overbooked. We also had seven reserved seats, one of which was not going to be used (Leonora still in the Hospital in Baguio) and by mistake, my Grandpa’s name got put on as a roundtrip ticket instead of a one-way. Even though we were not using one seat and simply had to transfer Irish’s name onto grandpa’s seat, they said we could not do that. The flight was already oversold by six people. Meaning, if any of us by name do not claim the seat it automatically goes to the next overbooked person. I understand airlines do this because they have cancellations and would have empty seats every time if they sold the exact number of tickets. But if everyone shows up for a flight that they booked in advance, some of the people get booted off at the gate because they sold too many tickets. In our case, to ensure Irish could fly with us on that flight, 5 other people would have to miss the flight.


    We couldn’t risk having Irish stay and wait alone and go on the last flight alone. There’s no way. She’s been through enough already. Yet there was no way to simply switch her for one of our two unused tickets. So since all Spokane flights were booked until about 9pm, we opted for the option of a 2:20 flight to Boise, Idaho, and then a connecting flight from Boise to Spokane an hour after that bringing us into Spokane at 5:20pm… sooner that the original flight would have landed us there at a scheduled 5:59pm. And all of us could go together. So we transferred our tickets and got Irish a ticket and proceeded through baggage check (to be loaded on the Boise flight), and then security and finally got to the gate just at boarding time. The first thing I saw on the billboard was “Seattle to Boise- Delayed”. Meaning, if it’s delayed over 25 minutes, there’d be no way to get our connecting flight to Spokane on time, meaning we’d be stuck in Boise trying to get another flight hours later. And our tickets from the original flight had already been switched and we found out the Boise flight was delayed by about an hour. Somehow, my mom managed to get us switched back to the original flight with Irish given a definite seat and boarding pass. However, Dave, my mom and me all were on standby as oversold passengers. We had no choice but to take the chance we could get on the flight all together, so we proceeded to the other gate at the far end of the airport and waited.

    The 5:00 flight from Seattle to Spokane was delayed. Now this is getting to be real ridiculous. We have been trying to get home for so long… just over 29 hours had passed since we left the hospital in Baguio. The last 5 hours we’ve been all over Seatac going through security, transfers and hassles, and yet another delay and we’re not even sure if 3 of us have definite seats. But I had faith in God and trusted in him that he would get us all back safe on this flight. Luckily, over the loudspeaker was announced… “Passenger’s Lundberg and Sorrell, please report to the desk for seating assignment”.

    We all got on the plane. Finally at 5:50pm we were leaving for the last leg of our trip in the air. I was sitting next to Irish again this time… as she still held onto the Bear. The Bear had been with her on all the drives, all the flights and all the security checks. They had X-rayed it several times over security checks in 3 airports… but something was inside of that Bear that no X-ray or scanner could detect. I could feel it inside of it as she held it so close to her. When she was hugging and holding onto it, she was holding onto Rudy, and her mom and dad and her whole family. They were in that bear… not physically… but as I watched her hold it I could only see her holding all those people she missed so much that were so distant now. And as I watched her look at the late sunset light skim over the tops of the clouds, a part of me was crying inside as well and holding that bear’s hand.

    The flight to Spokane seemed so much shorter than the actual 45 minutes it took, considering how long it was to get this far. We got off the plane and part of me felt so happy to be back home again. I went to the baggage claim… and just as I had a fear about… our baggage wasn’t there. First thing I though… “It went to Boise”. Sure enough, it was in Boise. So we filled out descriptions and they had it delivered the next day. My uncle came to pick us up… and I took the keys and drove us home. It had been 3 weeks and I needed to drive something even if it was just a minivan. I saw all the city lights and remembered watching a video I had taken of the same scene… a video I watched in the Baguio house to remind me of home. Finally I was back again.

    It still didn’t feel right. We were incomplete. Not because of our missing luggage, but because of the people we left behind; Leonora, Rosita and Esteban. This can’t be as joyous of a return as I had hoped. But life must go one. I don’t like stories with sad endings, but I can only say this: The story is not over yet. Wounds heal and repairs can be made. God puts many tests before us on the road of life. It’s up to us to do our best to pass them, and with his guidance we can.

    My Aunt Patricia with Irishlyn safe at our home in Spokane, Wa. March 19, 2006
    [​IMG]


    1985- My Aunt Rosita, Uncle Esteban, and their children- my cousins Danny, Sheryl, Alden and Erma... still before Irishlyn was born.
    [​IMG]



    Myself (front) with my mom and family in 1985
    [​IMG]

    Myself (back) with my family March 12, 2006
    [​IMG]
     
    Last edited: Mar 21, 2006
  2. TSGB

    TSGB 1 ton status

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    Man, that's rough. You have to hold it up to the light though- it could have been much worse. Still sucks, but could have been worse. And to top it all off? Seatac. Lame.

    At least it had it's good points, and a lot of people had a lot of happy moments. Plus, you painted some pretty sweet pictures!

    And at least you didn't run around squealing and flailing your arms...
     
  3. thezentree

    thezentree 3/4 ton status

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    Jebus, that's crazy! I'm glad no one was killed.
     
  4. Desert Rat

    Desert Rat Fetch the comfy chair

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    Call me an asshole and vengeful, but I'd be enlisting somebody to find the gunmen, and the people who hired them for a little "come to Jesus" talk... There is a silver lining as thezentree said though.
     
  5. spongeidys

    spongeidys 1/2 ton status

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    x2 im glad you made it home safely
     
  6. Jagged

    Jagged 1 ton status

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    Holy crap dude!

    I seriously don't know what to say....
     
  7. GotLabs

    GotLabs 1/2 ton status GMOTM Winner

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    That sucks, glad to hear that you made it home safely. Hope everyone else will be ok.
     
  8. kgblazerfive

    kgblazerfive keymaster Premium Member GMOTM Winner

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    Allen you have a really good story. Well written also and you can paint. So whats the ending is your uncle still coming out?
     
  9. jekquistk5

    jekquistk5 Weld nekid Premium Member GMOTM Winner

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    Wow..thats all I can say..
     
  10. Cmoe

    Cmoe 1/2 ton status

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    Sorry to hear what happened. May our prayers be with you and your family!
     
  11. Cricket

    Cricket 3/4 ton status

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    X2 keep us posted.
     
  12. clarkjw24

    clarkjw24 1/2 ton status GMOTM Winner

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    Excellently told story. I felt if I was there with you. Sorry about the ending events but for some reason I believe that you and your family will pull through. You all seem to be very strong in many ways.
     
  13. onlychevy6

    onlychevy6 1/2 ton status

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    x3 Hope all turns out for the best..
     
  14. TSGB

    TSGB 1 ton status

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    How has everything gone since then?
     
  15. K5Greek

    K5Greek 1/2 ton status

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    damn, glad everyone will be ok
     

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