When my wife, Julie, and I decided to move down to Black Mountain, North Carolina from Pennsylvania in 2003, we looked at the town as a mountain paradise. Surrounded by some of the highest mountains in Appalachia, the scenery was breathtaking, and with the Billy Graham family estate up on a mountain above us, the Billy Graham Training Center, and the Graham Association radio station WMIT, all close by, I thought this was an ideal place for the kind of ministry work I saw myself doing in the future. What we didn’t know about Black Mountain and the surrounding Asheville area at the time is that it had become a magnet area for people involved in pagan religion with all of its occult practices including witchcraft, and those actively involved in the gay lifestyle. Neither of those factors would necessarily have kept us from coming here because we believed God was genuinely calling us down here to this area. What I could not have foreseen was the amount of money and power these people, especially the gays, had behind them.

We rented an apartment in a three-story, wooden framed building in a back corner of a circle in Black Mountain, choosing one of the middle floor units because it contained an extra closet for storage space. What we didn’t anticipate is that middle floor apartment would end up being a trap, where neighbors below and above could take advantage of the wooden floors and engage in a variety of forms of harassment. When we first moved in, I prayed the apartment would be a place of peace and refuge. Very quickly, it turned out not to be.

Barely two months after we’d moved in, the trouble began, for me in particular. Julie had found an accounting job with a small manufacturer in Asheville, while I was sending out resumes and other materials for the work I thought God had led us here for. At 6:45 one morning, Julie was showering, preparing for work. Our line phone number was active, but it was not listed yet in the local directories. Despite this, I got a phone call from a young man “inviting” me to come over to his place at that hour to give him oral sex. At first, I thought it might be a joke, so I asked him who he was. When he gave me his name, I knew it wasn’t a joke; the man was serious, and talked as though I should know who he was, as If I should already be connected with his gay community. What really shook me was the fact he not only knew my name and had my number before it was listed, but was brazen enough to call me at that hour to come join him in gay sex, even with my wife with me. I was to learn quickly that it didn’t matter that I was married. If the queer men in the area looked at me and decided I had to be one of them, they became determined to tear me away from Julie and make me one of their partners. I also found they weren’t about to take “No” for an answer. This is the other side of the LGBTQI rights discussion: They don’t want anyone trying to turn any of their number away from the gay lifestyle through “conversion therapy,” but they have no hesitation about going after straight people, including married ones, to make them come join them.

In the nineteen years since then, I have endured an unending assault by gays and lesbians, along with their left-wing supporters, to pull me away from Julie to get me to come join them in their lifestyle. In the first five years after we came to Black Mountain, the gay community tried several times to lure me into downtown Asheville under the guise of supposed concerts by groups from the sixties and seventies that only someone from my age group would likely know. Whenever they would call me to see if I would come, they always offered me only one ticket. When I mentioned my wife Julie would be interested in coming with me, they would immediately balk at that, saying they really could only provide one ticket, which they sent to me, intending it only for me. As I looked into this further, I found there were no such concerts taking place in Asheville, and were not meant to benefit the Asheville Fire Fighters Association as they claimed.

The next thing that happened during that time was that Julie received a strange phone call from a man who didn’t identify himself, but told her something sinister sounding, something to the effect that her life was going to be altered and she would lose something important to her. Not long after, she was diagnosed with Stage Two breast cancer. She underwent chemotherapy, which her oncologist warned us could permanently damage her in ways that could adversely affect our marriage. She survived and is still with me, but unfortunately, the doctor’s prediction has all but proven true. To this day, I can’t help but wonder if that call she received was from a homosexual Satanist whose cult put a curse on her to give her cancer, in the obvious hope it would claim her and get her out of the way to get to me. A lot of people might find this preposterous, but I’m well aware that Satan can inflict diseases on people (he did Job in the Bible), and it would not at all shock me to learn this was the case.

By 2008, the effort to break up my marriage and move me out into the homo community shifted from gay men trying to lure me, to sorcery being used on me. I first observed it from a couple of encounters with women who apparently were lesbian witches who made it a point to get in my face and tell me I was going to be “outed.” Then, we had a new neighbor move into the apartment below us, a retired teacher from Ohio. It didn’t take long for her to become good friends with the neighbor woman in the house next door to our building, who together became very committed to seeing me leave Julie behind and go live with queers. She came up to our apartment one evening and proceeded to tell us she was getting into sorcery, giving me a hard, sidewise glance when she said it. Then began what is now almost fourteen years of a constant attack on my mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual health, trying to either bend my mind or heart to developing a sexual attraction for men, or causing Julie to turn on me and kick me out, giving them the opportunity to push me out into the gay community ( which wouldn’t have happened anyway).

Along with the usage of witchcraft against me, I’ve had to endure all kinds of tormenting and taunting from residents in the apartments above and below us, doing some really vicious things like spraying different kinds of scented vapors up through our heating system, and even up through the floor, which caused my sinuses to swell and drain, filling my respiratory system with congestion. This would lead to rather severe coughing and wheezing. Other forms of taunting and harassment I’ve had to put up with have been so childish they’re not worth my even describing. But the main purpose behind it, I determined, is to try to set me off, get me to blow up in a rage and threaten one of my neighbors, so they could call up whoever was overseeing the effort to come and arrest me and take me to a psychiatric hospital where they could work on “deprogramming me of my bigoted religious beliefs,” as the left would call them, and persuade me that I am a homosexual who needs to “come out” and go join the queer community.

If all of this sounds completely outlandish, let me remind you that we’re living in a time when the FBI is bursting into people’s homes without warrants, arresting individuals on charges that don’t involve real crimes, but rather Marxist “Woke ideology.” That is what I’ve determined is behind this effort to break up my marriage of nearly twenty-eight-and-a-half years, and send me out into the gay community. This is what Marxist philosophy teaches (or shall I say brainwashes) its adherents to believe: psychotherapy in the right form can change any person’s thinking to make them into different persons altogether in terms of their beliefs. The way Marxist thought works in this follows a three-step progression, as was observed in the past in the Bolshevik and Maoist revolutions in Russia and China. First, psychotherapy is employed to “gently” persuade citizens who weren’t following communist ideals to change their way of thinking completely and embrace the Marxist regime. Then came torture methods to force them to change if that didn’t work. Finally, execution was the last step with those who just would not comply.

I mentioned the wooden floors of our apartment building and how they provide a convenient way to taunt and harass. This includes the usage of illegal, sophisticated surveillance equipment used by our U.S. military. This equipment, from what I’ve been able to tell, involves microphones so sensitive they can pick up the faintest whisper, and cameras that have the ability to not only see through floors and walls, but pick up facial expressions that reveal moods and attitudes, and even read written or printed materials we’re reading or writing. How do I know these devices are being used on us? I’ve heard different reactions at various times from those down below us to things I’ve said or whispered even in a soft voice, and through having different things such as noises or scents directed up at me that appear to irritate or anger me. Again, the whole purpose is to monitor everything I’m doing and look for any way possible to aggravate me into making a threat against somebody specifically, so i can be hauled away for psychiatric treatment, with a mandate given to the psychiatrists that the only place I’d go to from there is the homo community.

I know many reading this will wonder if I might just need psychiatric treatment for telling about this. I know what I’ve experienced, and it isn’t just my imagination. I’ve had to live with the reality that ever since I was a teenager, I’ve been labeled a homosexual, just because of my outward appearance, the way I speak sometimes, and some of my traits which make me less aggressive than other men. I’ve fought the stigma and the bitter taste of being branded something I absolutely am NOT, just because others see me that way and mistreat me or insist that I should be living as a queer. But with God as my witness, I can say unequivocally that I am, and have always been, attracted to women, not men. I know there are many from the LGBTQI rights movement and their Marxist comrades who will adamantly assert otherwise, but I know what I am, and more importantly, God knows what I am, and he certainly didn’t make me to be a homo. What really rankles me in all of this are all these people from this movement who laugh up their sleeves at poor Julie for being “too stupid to know the difference between a gay and a straight man.” She is not. She knew she was NOT marrying a closet queer when she married me.

I have been sweating out getting this posted into my web site, because I have had my computers hacked repeatedly, trying to block me from publishing my convictions, particularly about homosexuality. I’ve also had my phones hacked as well, even knocking me off my cell network. I can’t do anything at our apartment because it is automatically monitored, and unless I am only looking at emails, I may find the signal from the cell towers getting blocked. That’s just the kind of equipment these people have to make life as difficult for me as possible. That begs an obvious question for those reading this: Why do we stay in that apartment and building? The answer to that is twofold: 1) We can’t find any place any cheaper or as cheap as what we have in this expensive Asheville area, and 2) Whatever attempts we might make to leave would likely be thwarted by the people running this operation against me to see me divorced and living with queers, not moving on with Julie somewhere else. That’s the kind of power and resources this LGBTQI movement with its Marxist Deep State backers, have to control the lives of other people.

I found this to be true with the issue of employment as well. According to the Marxists and gay community, I’m not supposed to have employment or do anything that would enable me to earn an income to support Julie and me. A few years ago, I attempted to sign up to work for one of the grocery delivery companies, where I would work as an independent contractor, shopping for and then delivering groceries to customers. I managed to download most of their company app onto my phone, but when I tried to actually connect with the company via their toll free phone numbers that would enable me to confer with them on any customer problems, all I got was a computer response that gave a different company name. and then promptly cut me off. When I complained out loud to Julie about this, I overheard a young man I suspect is a possible federal agent working with and handling this crew downstairs saying, “He figures out everything we try to do to him.” I could tell he was talking about me because this was followed by a new wave of tormenting, intended to really push me over the edge.

I’m sharing all of this, because the Lord has shown me it was up to me to tell this story; He was not going to do it for me. What He will do now as a result of my publishing this, I don’t know. What these Marxist gay rights proponents will do about it, may be what God uses to expose this whole evil effort against me and bring it to a halt. You will notice I have not named names even of people I do happen to know who’ve been involved in this, and that is because I have no desire to incite violence against anyone over this. As for forgiving the people involved for all this evil I’ve had to endure, I continue to invoke the words of Jesus from Luke 23: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” With that, I place this account, and the people about which I have written in His hands. May His will be done in this situation.