Personal Thoughts

The ghosts of slavery and poverty haunt me, as they do everybody. However, I have always been overly sensitive in a feminine and 'romantic' way, but I never knew until recently, the depths of the reasons why.

Two titles for an autobiography come to mind:

Slaves and Slavic people: Poverty and Hathor's plight under the foot of the Phoenician/Hittite.

Malaga and the Matador, window into the world.

The name given to me Dimitri, is a derivative of Demeter, the analogue of Isis or Hathor, and I was born on September 25, 1973 in Torremolinos/Mijas in Malaga, Spain. Andalusia is the name of the larger area. My mother and father, both born in the US, lived there for a time.

The above should be enough to get any historians interest piqued, but I'll elaborate.

Deep undercover, a black African woman is reborn as a white male 3500 years later to understand the consequences of the Bronze Age Collapse.

Believe it or not this is my story.

Alma H Liggitt [Great Grand Mother] (pioneer of Wellshire Country Club, Denver, Colorado) husband: Dye G Liggitt

Alma Lou Liggitt [Grand Mother] (1st and only child) husband: Winett A. Coomer

Alma Lynn Coomer [Mother] (1st of all sisters) husbands:

Peter K. Brophy

Slavomir Vorkapich [Father] son of Slavko Vorkapich (pioneer of Hollywood montage technique)

Ewel Hunter Stone II

Franklin Lord Van Rensselaer III

Mysticism is not my pleasure, but I must highlight that on my mother's side, I am the first born male of two first born females. On my fathers side (Slavomir of Slavko), the third of his sons, 1 and 2 by Anne Vorkapich (NY, NY).

So if I were a matchmaker or game player during the Cold War, how would I have played my mother and fathers offspring? Given the auspicious facts noted above, is it not a miracle I have survived into 2019? Indeed, but it was a close call on several occasions.

My mother left the father of her 2 children because he was not ready to settle down, and she couldn't tolerate his indecision about where to live and what to do. My parents separated when I was 3, and not having a solid father figure for my upbringing, and only a single working mother, left me vulnerable to falling in with the 'wrong crowd'.

Strike 1: Spring 1987

While at Colorado Academy, there were spring trips one could go on, and a group of 'friends' and I chose Cripple Creek (site of the Independence lode). I don't think any of us knew it was such a big gold area, but we went for the horses, the camping, and the car starting fluid(ether). Needless to say chemicals meant for cars and people don' t mix well, and I vomited all over the tent we were sleeping in, and survived.

Strike 2: Spring 1993

While at George Mason University in Virginia for my sophomore year, I was rather down on my choice of Biology as a major, having wanted to focus on nature preservation and being faced with the excruciating details of cells and Krebs cycle. A 'friend' came over to my dorm and brought parsley laced with PCP/embalming fluid to smoke. Needless to say after my mom called for a doctor's intervention a week or so later, after the world trade center bombing, I was caught up in the mental anguish of Steel Pulse's song 'Babylon The Bandit', The Wizard of Oz movie, and the fear that Mr. Van Rensselaer was trying to take us to Mars. Note, Woodburn and Springwood clinics don' t particularly like it if you think Aliens are a possibility; and don't take your pen for writing notes when you're not authorized to.

After that '93 episode I started work on a quasi biographical novel I never completed titled 'A Plot Against the Sun'. Some phobia of Mr. Van Rensselaer and his friends and what they may be involved in.

Stepping back a bit. In 1990, at the time the Soviet Union was collapsing, and the Rwandan Genocide was starting, at 16 years old I moved to Virginia from Colorado with Mr. Van Rensselaer and my mother. They were just married, but soon he was off traveling doing 'business' over seas. I took to reading and starting my academic pursuits. One such investigation lead to the history of Ancient Egypt, Native Americans, and African Americans. I had already some knowledge of conscious reggae music, but being on the east coast and near the 'Washington D.C. murder capital of the nation', and where the first settlers expunged the indigenous, made walking through the woods there quite charged. At the time I knew nothing of the history of the Virginia Company and the Jamestown Brides.