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There are no advertisements for the truth orThe Blood Line I came to know and experience as a child in the 1980s during the Reagan presidency.On a small mountain top in the South of Colombia South America during the 1980s I witnessed women who patiently waited in the hot equator sun for the bloodline of human organs to be passed along a table that extended from inside the building used for processing the bodies. The blood was drained and organs removed and the bodies would be put into a pile that later was taken a short distance to be burned in a pit. The organs of value were passed along the bloodline to a large metal table used for wrapping and labeling that a large military metal square container used for transporting the organs. Once processing was finished the metal container would be weighed and taken to a nearby harbor area used by the military and flown across the ocean to be sold for medical and scientific research. The brains had no value because medical and scientific research required documentation and were placed in a silo until the processing was over and then ground up into a paste that the locals would feed to their pigs and livestock. Depending on the organ a price would be set by a co-op or wholesaler used to distribute the organs. The military was given charge of transporting the organs from Columbia to the distribution locations. Then sold to scientific and educational institutions for research and learning all over the world.In Colombia, the indigenous people of South America were being exploited because of their religious beliefs and limited choices in life that made them ideal for this purpose. Children born in larger cities to poverty-stricken parents would sell or give their children to the cartels that would raise and take care of the children until old enough to enter the workforce that drug production in the 1980s supported. Used to pick coca leaves and mule drugs out of the country to be passed along the trafficking routes to America. The indigenous workers used by cartels spent their lives inside these cartel-protected compounds being the backbone of cocaine production in the 1980s. When indigenous workers reached a certain age it was common for them to make a decision that I have never fully understood. They were not afraid of death and curiously lend towards dark choices that most Christians would not consider. For lack of a better word, there was a congregation of people that supported a gambling event involving the expression of the face after death that would be chosen by the willing participant usually of indigenous descent. People would come from Peru and other countries to take part in gambling during these events. A large variety of high-quality food and drinks along with all varieties of alcohol and drugs imaginable. To be indulged in by the willing participant once entered they would have their last meal and consume what alcohol and drugs they wanted while betting would take place by the onlookers as they gathered in an area by the bleachers until the time was ready to enjoy food and drinks of there own as well. There were two contraptions used one was a metal arm that tension was built upon as it was pulled and set into place. A small shape a little over the size of a human heart was on the end of the arm that once sprung would swing vigorously into the chest cavity of the participant who stood in a predetermined location awaiting willingly their demise. The shape had a flap of rubber on it that was lifted and a knife inserted to cut any remaining attachment to the body then pulled out and shown to the participant, while the anxious gambling onlookers would wait to see if their face would express an emotion before they died. The other contraption was a metal helmet that had a retractable blade connected to an extending metal cylinder that a large weight would be pulled up serval feet above on a metal rod then released slamming down with enough force to cause the blade to break the skull bone around the head and under the right circumstances allow the skull cap to be removed while a mirror is held in front of the participant to see their brain exposed and the onlookers focus on if a facial expression will be made. Out of the two contraptions, the one used to remove the heart worked the best as far as gambling results go. The crowd would cheer and chant when a participant would make a facial expression before death. Sometimes if you watched closely enough you could make out a smile on some participants but as a child, I took no pleasure in the matter and found the whole operation to be since less and against everything I was taught. I would walk away from the building along the dirt road and look at the long line of indigenous people that waited for their turn to participate. I asked the people why they would kill themselves this way and why didn't they value their life. Their belief system was not the same and the majority of indigenous participants were old and traveled there from other cities having lived a long enough life and desired the compensation offered to participate. They were recruiting indigenous people to commit suicide for-profit and the locals would gamble on it as well as the processing of the bodies that produced the organs necessary for the bloodline that used military planes to transport the metal containers of organs. It seemed as if the military was being hired or told to transport the organs as if they were FedEx or UPS. Suggesting that the bloodline and its similar counterparts in other continents including at least on-island would have to be connected at the highest levels of government around the world. I was told as a child that human processing or organ harvesting would in the future not exist in the open as it did in the 1980s it was to be moved underground to large facilities and government land where the satellites and prying eyes of the public would not be able to see. I was only exposed to three sites that I remember one in Colombia one on an island in the Pacific and one in Africa. The island bloodline seemed much smaller and needed fewer people to operate than Colombia. I remember being in a small room-like structure covered by jungle-type vegetation close to the area the man in charge was processing bodies. The room had dead people and live people were brought there against their will to be processed. The man in charge wanted me to help him with the bodies but when I refused he made me wait in the hidden room until the person that brought me there returned. The one in Africa was larger and more in the open I was brought within sight and smell of a large number of bodies discarded after processing and remember it was not pleasant, to say the least. The man that took me with him on his travels flew in a small plane with two tightly placed seats used to fly the plane with a panel closing off the front area which was the only area that had a source of climate control. A small storage area behind the seats was where I had to sit when he would bring another passenger. The rest of the plane all the way to the tale was a large gas tank taking up all but a small corridor along the sides of the tank. The plane could fly almost around the world without stopping for gas. I can remember there were other technology advanced parts that were used to fly the plane in an emergency or for other reasons. I can only imagine operating a full-size remote control plane when necessary. That was serious technology in the 1980s. During the second term of them president Ronald Reagan. A CIA agent known to me as Stephen Shaffer told me he was going to a non-public meeting with Congress to answer questions and give statements about the operations he was involved in and I was invited to attend with him. It was a small number of congressmen that would ask questions about his work and my being left in South America. I bought up the man that took me to the organ harvesting places and that was the reason I knew about the bloodline. They already knew about the bloodline and were not interested in exposing it to the world. As a child, I foolishly engaged in an attempt to debate this topic of exposing it as if it was their duty. They responded with it is their duty to serve the interest of the united states and exposing the bloodline contradicted those interests. I understand now that Congress always has much more on its scale to balance than the budget. Yet throughout all my experiences with the government there has been no judicial, legislative, executive, or military accountability for the medical procedures, and surgeries I went through including military facilities where men were killed in front of me as a child which I ran away from to hide in a room on the facility that I thought was normal but when a soldier came in he set down on a couch that sprung like a trap crushing his body in front of me so tightly he could not speak as he died. That happened when I was four or five years old. The man accountable for me being there worked for the government and had a house and lab on government land in Georgia. He signed a contract that prevented him from prosecution by any judicial laws. Regardless he has since passed away but surely there must be a way to protect children like I was from people who work for the government with immunity from judicial laws. It happened to me and unless people demand to change it can happen again to someone else's child.The FBI arranged for me to be the only eyewitness to Barry Seals' death that wasn't involved in his death and tell the last words he spoke. Along with what I saw from the front passenger seat of his car describing his bravery to face his death while he was shot by a Mac 10 walking back from the halfway house making it upright to the car till he tried to open the door then he lost his balance and fell to the ground and pulling his way up into the driver's seat that he died in right beside me blaming me as the kid that got him killed. His death was planned and he already knew about it and accepted it and bravely meet his death. The FBI told Barry Seal and I explaining how it would happen and told Barry what was agreed to be given as his last words and would not tell me what he agreed to say and that I had to wait till it happened so it couldn't be leaked out. They told me the day that it was scheduled for but would not tell Barry. We were kept apart after that meeting until it happened. I was to go on television and say his last words and the details of his death. As a child, I knew I was not responsible but felt an unreasonable amount of guilt that I could not emotionally process at the time it happened. I left with the people responsible for his death and was carried to a motel across town where one passenger that was giving orders to the others got out and went to an adjacent motel to get a ride away while we drove to another motel checked in a room then after I was caught talking to someone in the parking lot the Colombians got spoked and we left and went to another motel further away and checked in and this time they told me I couldn't leave the room. I waited till the first person that came into the parking lot ran to their vehicle flagging them down and convincing them to call the police or the FBI I waited until the FBI showed up and they stormed the room and caught them as one was trying to run away. The one that was giving the orders that got out of the car at the other motel was never caught or acknowledged by the police or FBI. I believe he was hired to make sure the hit went according to the plan and the others were there to get caught.