Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Illuminati Pedophilia - A Victim's Memoir

henrymakow.cahttp://www.henrymakow.com/the_making_of_an_illuminati_sl.html

August 26, 2011



Left. Carolyn Hamlett today

Government Mind Control - from an insider  - Part 1


"What I remember most about this possible underground facility is seeing children in cages...kept like animals. Most of them were about my age."

They threatened "to tell my mother and grandmother that I was a bad little girl doing dirty naughty things...There were dirty sexual things going on there with grown men and children, things that my mother would surely disapprove of and punish me for."


by Carolyn Hamlett

(henrymakow.com)


I remember often being abducted from my home in the middle of the night by the same 2 men. They drugged me and took me some place and returned me just before dawn. 

I never remembered where I was taken and for what reason...until about 2009, when memories began to surface. In some of these memories, I was as young as 4-years-old. 



Some of those memories were of an underground facility. I suspect it was somewhere at Mac Dill Air Force Base in Tampa, which was close to where I lived. 

What I remember most about this possible underground facility is seeing children in cages...kept like animals. Most of them were about my age. 



There were a lot of blonde-haired blue-eyed children. Some, like me, didn't live there, but I think some were kept prisoners like animals. 



I feared I would become one of them. I was told that if I didn't cooperate....I would. 



I think I feel guilty that I never told anyone about the children....but now...in my adult mind I know that I was incapable of telling anyone about the children...especially if I couldn't even remember the details of what was being done to me. 



I remember being told that if I talked...they would kill my mother and my brothers. 

(Carolyn Hamlett, age 4)

I was also told that my mother and the other adults in my family would never believe me even if I did tell them. Several times I did try to tell my mother, but to my horror, my abusers were right, there was no help for me. My mother reacted exactly as I was told she would. She told me that I was imagining it all and to forget it. 

Sometimes the people told me that if I didn't comply, they would tell my mother and grandmother that I was a bad little girl doing dirty naughty things. For some reason...that threat seemed to have the most power over me....Probably because there were dirty sexual things going on there with grown men and children, things that my mother would surely disapprove of and punish me for.



A LESSON 

The underground facility was a busy place at night with lots of different activities going on. There was a large open area with a low ceiling. It was large enough that small groups could meet in there without disturbing one another. There were some smaller rooms off that main area. It was in one of these rooms that I remember having a "lesson". 



I was seated in a chair. My instructor sat facing me and slightly to my right. She was familiar to me, though I didn't know her outside of the facility. She was young and pretty, probably high school age. Her dark brown hair and perfectly trimmed bangs framed her face well. Her eyes, a beautiful shade of blue, were further accented by the matching powder blue cashmere sweater and skirt she was wearing. I felt comfortable with her and wanted to please her. I desired her positive attention and affirmation. 

From the right side of the room entered a tall, thin balding older man in a gray suit. His loosened dark tie hung haphazardly around his neck and was cocked toward his right shoulder. His disheveled white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. He looked like he should smell bad, but he didn't. 

(Carolyn, age 6)

The man looked at me and smiled, then motioned for me to come over to him and sit on his lap. I didn't know this man and didn't want to go to him. I looked to my instructor. Yes, she wanted me to go to the man. I felt obliged to obey. I got up out of my chair and walked the few steps to the man and reluctantly climbed onto his lap. I was everything but relaxed. The man wanted me to be affectionate...to "give him some sugar". I didn't like him and I didn't like him touching me.

I could tell that both the man and my instructor were becoming very displeased. Apparently they considered my coldness as inappropriate behavior. Their displeasure felt like rejection, like I was bad, that there was something wrong with me for not wanting to be close to that man, yet something about it didn't feel right at all. 

My instructor called another little girl over. She appeared to be about my age, maybe slightly older. She was wearing a little blue dress. Her golden blonde hair was braided into two "pig tails" that hung one on each side of her head, touching her chest just below her shoulders. Her full skirt, fluffed up by petticoats swayed as she walked, giving her the appearance of little girl innocence with feminine allure. She was there to demonstrate how it's done, how I was supposed to behave. 

She gladly hopped up onto the man's lap eager to show me how much more advanced she was. She became the aggressor while the man sat back to enjoy. First it was kissing on the lips. Then more passionate kissing. I had never seen anything like that even with adults. All the while I watched, my instructor kept telling me that what I was watching was good and normal behavior between grown men and little girls like myself. It still didn't seem right to me. 

ADULT-CHILD SEX "NORMAL"

One more child was brought in to show me "how normal" it was for children to do sexual things with grown men. This child was a dark haired little boy wearing a white oxford shirt, partially tucked into his navy blue pants. He looked much like the boys I knew who went to Catholic schools. He was scared. 

Reluctantly, he boarded the man's lap, as the little girl slid off to receive her praises for a job well done. 

He too kissed the man as the little girl had done. The man encouraged the little boy to kiss him more. As they kissed and fondled each other, my instructor was liberal with her praise for the boy. She kept telling me how nice and good that sort of behavior was and how pleased she was with him.

Next, my instructor sat me down in front of a cabinet. She brought out some dolls like the ones children use in miniature play houses and placed the dolls on the top of the cabinet. 




She proceeded to show me first with dolls, what I would observe next with adults and children. I remember feeling horrified and sick to my stomach at what she did with the dolls.

It was men dolls with little boy dolls first, and then she progressed to show me even worse things. I couldn't imagine real people doing those things with each other. It didn't seem right. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to look. The more upset I got, the angrier my instructor became with me. 

She seemed pressured to make me understand before the night was through...and the night was almost through. 

I sensed that I was failing. I sensed that my failure was her failure in the eyes of her superiors. 

Yet, no matter how hard she worked to convince me that what she was demonstrating was normal, I would not believe it. That night's lesson ended with her purposely making that message even more conflicting in my mind and hard to process. 

She gave me the conflicting messages that sodomy was normal and desired behavior, yet was used as punishment for those who do not comply to the rules. Children were brutally sodomized as punishment. 



Maybe I actually saw it done with men and boys that night. Maybe it is still too frightening to fully recall. I do have the remembrance of seeing the dolls, yet this memory of the dolls is superimposed over what I think was real...seeing little boys punished this way. I can hear their screams.
---

Note: 
Carolyn was born in December of 1953. The events described above occurred in 1958. The abuse started when she was a baby.  

Carolyn's Blog:

http://www.beyondthephysicalrealm.com - See more at: http://www.henrymakow.com/the_making_of_an_illuminati_sl.html#sthash.Jzqg0map.dpuf

Sheeple



The Black Sheep tries to warn its friends with the truth it has seen, unfortunately herd mentality kicks in for the Sheeple, and they run in fear from the black sheep and keep to the safety of their flock.

Having tried to no avail to awaken his peers, the Black Sheep have no other choice but to unite with each other and escape the impending doom.

What color Sheep are you?

.





100627