All Hallow's Eve tale

Tis the season.
So, here's my story.

I was dating this guy in Minneapolis.

28 Nov 1994

To Lola

One black night
covers the day in white
The first snow
a season of white darkness
a season of long nights
and three hour days.
We move back to the
Womb, the cave
the introspective flip side
of green and blue.
the naked tree
the naked branch stands alone
the swollen fruit
its withered vine
the seeds have all fallen
covered to rot, to wait for spring
which has no place here.
<3: Crow.


Tuesday, March 23, 2004
strangest dream

reality first: i dropped out of college after freshman year because i was doing too many drugs and enjoying too much of life to really study anything. went from first quarter A's to third quarter C, D, and Withdraw. decided it'd be best on the family pocket if i dropped out and worked, found out what i wanted. during the spring i'd met a bunch of punk rock kids when i'd frequent the local co-op restaurant. it must have been mat. he invited me over. so i took his directions and hopped on the bus -- out of the safety of the fishbowl of university town into the real surrounding city. it was while riding the bus that i saw the outside world and how i was so alienated, even at big ten school in a big ten city.

mat lived with 4 other roommates. i remember there was pizza and tv, pot and conversation. after i dropped out of school i moved in with them. i was already dating someone within their circle so it fit in well. that summer i spent the majority of my time at adrian's apartment and not so much in the house where i paid for a room. i broke up with adrian because i smothered him too much and he'd met some cute skater chicks.

late summer of 1994 i met crow. i think he was just hanging around our house, knew my roommates.

i was a hippie punk skater then. hair dyed or long. phat pants and a phat skateboard. i had quit working at the YWCA in uptown near adrian's apartment and started at the co-op where i first met the non-conformists. crow was calm, tattooed, he called people 'brother' and 'sister', he had a sparse apartment with bongos and liked walking and finding old bikes and giving them away. he had dark hair and was my height, a gote, a perfect smile, and knuckles tattooed with L-O-V-E and H-A-T-E. i fell.

we'd been dating for a couple of months when he said he had something to tell me. we sat on my futon in the cramped bedroom, low on the ground, surrounded by a couple of candles.

and then he started his story. he wanted me to know the truth. he didn't know if i knew, but he wanted me to find out from him and no one else. "ok, crow, tell me." the year before he'd been in a dark place. (hard for me to imagine of this mellow, friendly hippie.) he came from a wealthy family and rejected it all. and he found himself in a very dark place, living with a friend who was in the punk scene and into dark ideas as well. they hung out at the hard times cafe.

one night they broke into the lakewood cemetery and walked through the gravestones. "i was in a dark place. i wanted to know more about death. what it looked like. how it felt. what it really meant." they found an open grave, dirt dug out, deep pit into the ground. crow climbed down into it and lay down. he said he could see the end of a casket and wanted to climb inside it. he didn't know how.

but this didn't satisfy their intrigue. their deep, dark, empty curiosity about death. so they decided they needed more. more information. hands-on information. they decided to go to "The Memorial Community Mausoleum and Columbarium at Lakewood offer alternatives for above ground entombment. The Mausoleum accommodates 3,000 crypts in corridors or semi-private alcoves. There are also several Columbarium rooms with more than 2,000 individual and family niches for cremated remains. The Pool of Reflections and adjacent garden crypts lie between the Mausoleum and Memorial Chapel."

and, according to his telling of it, they went at night. into the mausoleum. there were video cameras but they got in. and they searched. they found temporary crypts for bodies not yet buried. they found one. took the body out. put it in a large plastic bag and walked back out. they got on the bus. and i remember this clearly, "we rode the bus back to our apartment with the shoes sticking out of the top of the bag." "but, crow --... didn't anyone notice?! didn't anyone say anything?" "no, lola. i don't know why... no one asked us anything."

they took the body back to their apartment. he slept with it that night. and they explored it. not in any sexual manner, but in a pseudo scientific manner. "what happens to bodies when they die?" the next days they cut off the boy's head, hands, and feet to explore what they couldn't get out of themselves. crow reiterated how he was in a dark place and was out of that now. but at the time, he couldn't stand life, the living, and the living dead -- those business men on nicollet mall, the shoppers, and people not living with a full love of life. one day, he said, they went to the top of a downtown city building and threw brains over onto the passersby.

i sat there. listening. it was too out of my realm to understand. and too far away to comprehend. but coming out of his mouth so close to me.

they'd sworn to keep secret about these disturbing deeds. but his roommate, and partner in crime, started talking around hard times. the cops were investigating. his friend was talking. so they took the body and chopped it into smaller pieces and tossed it in the mississippi river. he wanted to get better.

his friend fled and crow fled. they were caught.

9 Oct 94
"While Crow put his bike in Tina’s car I made mention of how cute he was (is!) and she said he thought I was beautiful, too. I totally needed that, too. To hear I am beautiful. I was feeling very low lately. Very out of touch with myself. I've been consumed with doubt, fear, things negative. I was regressing into a shell like in middle school. Surrounded by people I'm in awe of -- physically, intellectually, and spiritually. It's sad that I can fall into such an unstable feeling of uncertainty and then become consumed by it. I start feeling negatively about myself - even when I am smoking pot. Worse when I'm smoking pot b/c it is then that all true feelings are revealed and increased -- shown through the opened doors of perception.

We all piled into a car and laughed heartily. We dropped Crow off at his grandparents and went to Nancy's... We drove back to Cafe Wyrd. We were to meet Crow there to then go to the Y for saunaing. We waited an hour and then realized he'd been sitting three tables ahead with his back to us! ... Crow and I sat in the back on the way to his home. I told him how I'd like to quit the YWCA and he mentioned how he and Chris, this paraplegic brother he takes care of, are looking for one other caretaker for trips to Mexico. So if the Riverside Co-op doesn't hire me and I'm ready to quit here then I could do it. I thought about it last night. Taking care of someone .. I don't know if I can , but I can do and be anything / anyone I want, right?"

sometime between then and 14 Oct 94:

"I don't know what the date is. But it is Thursday and I am up north on Snake Trail Road with Crow. We are cleaning out Chris', a quadriplegic whom Crow takes care of, cabin.

"Walking alone in his garden once, a poet saw a broad leaf move, revealing a tiny procession that bore a body on a rose-leaf bier. It was a fairy funeral."

14 Oct 94
"My fingers are filled with blood. Pushing their skin out. Filling up immensely.
I'm very happy and very confused. In a state of clueless anxiety and ever peaceful happiness. Crow -- Willy Crow Mojo. And Merry Sunshine. Together we have been.

One Sunday I walked into my house and found Jim calling Hazeldon in a very anxious negative energy. I walked into Tina's room and found her doing --- so yes, so, I've met Crow.

So, all my meeting of Crow and hanging with beautiful sisters happened on Saturday. On Sunday I got home and found 2 beautiful messages on my door -- both from Tina -- one on how the Riverside would enjoy my presence for a second interview at 6pm that evening. The other was about how her friend Crow called and would like me to call him, or he'd call me later.

I was ecstatic! I called Amtrak for prices on one-ways back from San Francisco. It would take 3 days. Then I called the Riv and accepted the 2nd interview -- the hiring interview! I then called Crow -- he was very surprised I called! I told him about the Riv and decided we'd see each other that night later on. -- So many days gone by -- so much happened. Well, long to short, Crow and I started hanging out more and more. That night he'd biked over and we went for a long walk into the graveyard by Uptown and around.

God, I dunno. In the past couple of days I got salmonella, called in sick to the Riv, quit the Y by telling them I was leaving for San Fran immediately (a lie) and drove up north with Crow to a cabin where we stayed Tuesday - Thursday.

It was beautiful. Deer, sunshine, reds, oranges, yellows, mice, wood-burning stove. Long walks to beautiful ponds painted in fall colors. Star-filled skies, sister moon, bathrooming in the outdoors - a primitive cabin. We cleaned out all this junk that a guy who was one of Chris' caretakers, Petrich, left there. He is schizophrenic and an "artist." He had all this creepy stuff -- funky collages, etc.. we slept together but did nothing. My body was burning to be touched, but we didn't and I'm glad.

We stopped at Kmart on our way there for a Janis Joplin tape -- just spontaneous. We stopped at Big Lake, MN, to wash a bit at a lake there. We were free. I didn't want to come back -- back from being tomboys, from rolling down hills, playing in the leaves, reading by a pond in the sunshine. My body needs to be out there.

So, Crow, he makes $1500/month by caring for this man, Chris. Crow lives on the second floor of this beautiful house that Chris owns. And for a while he was sleeping - nothing else - with another caretaker, Katie, who lives in the house. And from when he met me he called the night sleep arrangement off with her. But he eased into the transition quicker than she has. So I'm now in his home with big windows -- a round sun of leaves through one -- and wooden floors and cozy chairs. Katie is here and I can feel the anger and heart breaking. No matter how strong one is.. I can feel it.

And, man. Crow said Chris is looking for another caretaker. I'd love to -- flexible hours, live in the same house, freedom. But, man, I don't know.

I said in the woods near the studio/cabin that I wanted to leave my brain in the woods and only feel. I don't want to work. All I want to do is travel, be outdoors, eat, sleep and enjoy my Mother Earth. I don't want to have to pay rent or shit like that.

But the things that must be done with/for Chris.. tough."

15 Oct 94 Sunday
"I am at Crow's but my mind and body are tense with elsewhere. My head aches and i feel lonely -- a state which only I can cure. Crow is eating with his roommates -- a private moment for them, as I see it. I don't want to interrupt -- I want to leave to better light and more space. I am about to embark on a journey. A chapter of my life has ended and I am starting another. I have known Crow for a week and he has respected me and my body and my space and frame of mind. It is a struggle -- being with someone and giving them the freedom to be free. ...

"Crow. A wonderful person. He says what he most appreciates in me is my androgyny -- man/woman likeness. It is the same for me. In his facial features to his walk to his ideas. He is wonderful. He is earth, water, wind, fire. He has traveled, he has stayed. He's lived with nothing but the clothes on his back. He has been rich. He plays drums that stir my sexuality, my soul, the marrow in my sleepy bones. His rhythms make me dance, make my hips and arms vibrate and move like never before. He has nearly died and cured himself with his own body and deep meditation. When I kiss him he feels it. When he touches me I am Merry Sunshine. He continually praises me; reminds me of my womanliness, my beauty, my strengths, my energy. I am speechless to those words. Speechless to these feelings. My replies can only be in my eyes, my body, my silence... for words, for once, fail me. He reinforces the spirit I've been of late. Nothing is too new, but amazing just the same -- that another wonderful being is in my plane of being. We are parallel.

"Yesterday he quit his job. He worked for Chris. Chris is in a lot of pain -- continuous pain all night and day. He snapped at Crow and disrespected him. He disrespected the man who, in the mornings , comes in to wake Chris up with hand massages and envisions a beautiful peace symbol radiating in his palm. Crow sent so much energy to this man. It had happened two times before, this disrespect and Crow vowed to quit if it happened again. He can take care of himself, I know, but I am sorrowful for these events.

"Crow looks like an owl.
His sister, Jessie, a swan.
I am blessed."

"The day after our first walk together, Monday, 9th, he placed ten apples at my bedroom door. Ten giant seeds of friendship.
"He looks like a raven when he wears my backpack.
He is good.
And I am blessed."

11 Nov 94
(after my trip to the west coast alone)
"We had an interesting moment at one point. I was totally wanting to sing and jam in my room and he wanted to be quiet and peaceful. So, well, at first it bugged me 'cause I didn't want to "give in" but then I realized that feeling and thought about why it would be giving in and why I felt that way. Then I realized I'd rather give that space away 'cause it wasn't a big deal to me -- being silent or not. he's a silent person sometimes. He said he lived in silence for many months many different times. Which made me think about how many things I want to do yet in my life."

13 Nov 94
"... I gotta be somewhere. I don't know. Crow on probation. It's weird. Why do they have him on that? To monitor him? Does he have a freak streak that could blow any time? I see a dark side on him / in him that is often stronger than the light side. But he knows everyone and everyone knows him. I love his sisters. He's got a weird relationship with them. So close -- maybe too close. I dunno. Maybe I just was never that close with mine."

the cops put crow and his friend on trial. crow came back voluntarily when he was caught. his friend tried running. when it was his time to explain himself all he could talk about was a dark place in his life. the cops had pulled the body remains out of the river. and crow told me how he finally really realized what he'd done while sitting there, opposite the family. the young boy, five years old, easier to take from the mausoleum to their apartment, had died a natural death by drowning. it was a second blow the parents.

crow was sentenced to jail and probation.

maybe it's because i was so vulnerable. maybe because i was stupid. maybe because it all seemed like a dream at the time. maybe because i was so high most of the time it all seeped together. or maybe because it was so foreign to comprehend i had no idea. but i kept seeing him. i forgave him. i accepted his awkward past and took him for the man he was towards me. he had found peace.

i can't remember why we stopped dating. i can't find that journal right now. i don't think it had anything to do with his past.

when i asked my friends if they'd known they said yes, and thought i had. no one had thought to tell me while i was dating him.

i had gotten to know his sister jessie really well. she was into pot and the afro culture. she dated the big drug dealer in the neighborhood and danced like she wasn't white. she had a smooth drawl, a cool, a jive to her. she wasn't even out of high school.

i left minneapolis in 95 for a year. after living with a man 16 years my senior, i lived with the punk rock kids again in a 3 story house with 9 kids in 96. i came back to get away from him and start school again. in 97 i went to spain for a year of study. i came back to my own studio apartment and school.

i got back from spain in the summer of 98. a while after i got my apartment i went out around town to re-visit old haunts. found myself at another co-op restaurant (ours had gone out of business). after i placed my order i started out toward the back court seating. i passed the cork board announcements and looked briefly. there it was. her face. jessie's face. her young, vibrant smile. her squinty eyes. "Alive in our hearts... Jessica Miller 9-28-76 / 7-13-98" i asked around among my friends.

jessie had hit a bottom. they'd put her in an institute because she'd been hearing voices. doing things unnatural to herself. she'd been there for a few weeks when she took her sheets and hung herself.

the next time i saw crow was at her memorial. he played drums center-stage of the ethiopian restaurant, the nile. i danced, i hugged friends i hadn't seen in a while. crow and i didn't speak.

..........................

bd and i went to bed early because we'd both been away this weekend. i was in DC for work, he was in LA for spring break. i'd arrived at the airport in the morning after getting up at 5am to leave DC. i went home and wrote a bit, checked emails, masturbated, read. then i went back to the airport to pick him up at 5pm. i brushed my teeth, put on some nice smells. i was in my 2nd wind and wanted to roll around in bed for a while. try doing it and getting out of our sexless rut. he remembered he had a class meeting he had to go to. i didn't mind just picking him up from the airport.

but i got home and found myself resenting it. now i was tired. now i didn't feel funky fresh. but we hung out anyway. and went to bed early.

..............................

DREAM: in my sleep crow had beaten his girlfriend. she was the girl i knew years before. blond, soft, sweet. i knew he'd got on a bike and rode from minnesota through central america after his sister died. but i hadn't heard of him in years. all of a sudden i was brought back to minneapolis. he'd done something out of the ordinary and we were worried.

my dad was with me. he drove me over to crow's house with some girlfriend of mine. the house was a mess. chaos. books misarragened on shelves, dinner plates scattered, dust, lamps, a dirty couch covered in a flimsy shawl. crow was out of sorts. not surprised by my visit. my dad was finding parking outside. he'd wait there. my girlfriend sat on the couch and i stood. looking around. eyes wide but sad. frightened and worried. sad. sad. i half-smiled to crow as he paced around.

maybe others came and went. maybe i thought crow was sleeping, but my girlfriend and i were exhausted and so we fell asleep. her on the couch. me in the chair. dozing. trying to keep my eyes open. worried.

i woke up and knew something was bad. he was already gone. i climbed the stairs of his apartment. dark. nighttime. got to the top of the stairs and there was a hallway with a bathroom door at the head of the stairs. the light was on and streaming out through the half-cracked door. the water was running. it wasn't through my ears, but through my head that i heard him say, "warm running water.. you know..." i could see behind the door through my eyes. his body submerged. a deep ceramic bathtub, old kind, with claw feet. water was running over the edge and his blood started to mix. stream out and over the tub.

i felt so deeply sad. like i knew there was nothing i could do. it was to happen. and to stop him would defile him. he was dying.

and as i stood there seeing this from behind the door, with the light shining on my face, a body ran by. so quickly. just flicks of a body. his body. his ghost. soon leaving. he ran by my face, around the corner, and into the other bedroom. in flashes. leaving. not yet gone, but leaving. and that's when it hit. he didn't want to go. i had to do something. he's not ready to go. do something.

i was trying to dial but my fingers were frozen. the numbers weren't real. i couldn't dial 9-1-1. i ran outside and got in my dad's car. where's your cell?! i screamed. call 911!!! now!! hurry! we still have time! he didn't have a cell. so we ran back inside. but it was all futile.

i was in the back seat of the car. my dad was driving. and crow just sat there all of a sudden.

and i've never ever seen anything so brilliant in my life. in all my dreams or nightmares. or in reality. someone so bright and real. i looked over and he was just sitting there. i asked my dad if he saw him, he said no. are you sure? don't you see him? don't you see crow sitting here? no, he didn't. he was more real than any reality. and i had so many things to say. to talk about. and it all happened on that mind level that you don't hear, but you read about. and all in some time that isn't counted. so quick. so deep. he handed me a letter in an envelope. there were four lines on it. scrawling of some kind. i know it was mailed to me. i took it. and looked at him with so many more questions.

i think we went to other places. where our friends were around. and i kept asking, don't you see him? and i wanted to ask him what he thought of bd. ask him to look down on bd's sleeping body, and what do you think?

but then.. i was snapped awake.
my eyes flew open.
/DREAM

..........................................

i stretched in that half-sleep world and rolled over and held bd. i made him wake up with my tossing and turning.

i told him the whole thing. and in my mid-sleep, tears ran down my face. it seemed so real.

and, i tried to replay it so i wouldn't forget any detail. i know i have. but the ones i remember are the ones that count. that i think it's real. that he did just finally give in. that i was actually there, in some other plane, to witness it. that he did want to go, but wasn't sure. that his presence was the most amazing i've ever witnessed in all my life. so alive and so real. nothing i've ever seen in reality or dreams before. a glow. a feeling. a connection. nothing like i've ever felt in all my life.

and i rolled. tossed and turned. looked out the crack in the shades. what did it mean? if he didn't really die somewhere, what does it mean? if he did, what would that mean? why did he come to me after six years? why now? why me? my mind raced. and all i could come up with was that ... he did go. he was inflicted with the same schizophrenia his sister had. and that he came to me only because i cared. and didn't care. when he told me about his dark moment, i didn't care. i cared more about him, than what he did. i cared. and he never forgot that. it got him over stigmatization. it let him really move on from his past. that i had, in my own ignorance or bliss, had not gotten hung up on a momentary digression in his life. i had loved him. i had revealed all of myself to him and held nothing back. and loved him.

...when i got up just now to go to the bathroom, the front door of my apartment was unlocked. a crack. again, like i saw in my dream of the bathroom. like i'd stared at when i woke this morning. i had locked my door when i got home tonight.

.........................

i'm sad. i'm deeply sad. mourning. but i can't help but feel that image. that image of him sitting in the back of the car with me. so bright. so real. more real than ever i've seen. .......... love. deep love. unknowing love. just a feeling of life. knowing he wasn't real. that i was dreaming. but that he was still.... real.

........................

DATE: September 1, 1993
VOLUME:
SUBJECTS: Grave Robbing - Cases
Youth - Crime
NOTES: "Nice, sweet kids [from] good families", and part of the McPunk "modern primitive subversive scene", Crow and Bxxxx dug up a little boy's body and cut off his head, feet and hands to "enhance their curiosity about death".

........................

Date: Wed, 24 Mar 2004 08:07:53 -0800 (PST)
From: D
Subject: Crow

Lola,

I was fascinated by your last entry in cdoa2. I'm not sure if you only listed the cryptic last reference from the Minneapolis Public Library because you didn't want people to know the full story.... maybe protecting Crow's identity?... of if you may have wanted to list more but it was hard to find?... Maybe you just wanted some kind of proof to back up what might be seen as an utterly fantasic and unbelievable tale.

I believed you. But I analyze things. Reseach things. I'm a scientist to my very core, so I had to look it all up. If you're at all interested you can look below. You might not want to.

D.

........................

[ST. PAUL Edition]

St. Paul police Thursday investigated the possibility that a mutilated and embalmed boy's body found in the Mississippi River was stolen from a Minneapolis cemetery crypt last month. Police and cemetery officials didn't tell the boy's parents about the theft, reported on Jan. 23, until the mutilated body in St. Paul was linked to possible grave-robbing and occult rituals this week. The missing body is that of a 9-year-old drowning victim who was entombed in an above-ground crypt at Lakewood Cemetery last spring.

Ron Gxxxx, president of the Lakewood Cemetery Association, said the first known theft of a body in Lakewood's 119-year history was kept secret in hopes of sparing the boy's family further anguish.

The boy's parents were told of the still-unsolved theft Wednesday by a clergyman and a funeral director who know them, he said.

An attorney representing the family confirmed yesterday they had not been told that their son's body had been taken before this week.

"They were very disturbed they were not told the grave had been disturbed or the boy's body was missing," the attorney said. "They are just trying to find some serenity."

Meanwhile, St. Paul crime laboratory identification experts struggled yesterday with poor prints, both from hospital birth records and from the headless and handless body that is believed to have been in the river several weeks, Deputy Chief John Nxxxxx said. Work was suspended late yesterday and will resume today, he said.

"I don't know if we'll ever get anything conclusive," Nxxxxx said. If not, police may use DNA genetic testing in an effort to match the body with the parents of the boy whose burial crypt was robbed. That would take at least three months, said Sgt. Daniel Harshman.

Police also are comparing the mutilated body's toeprints with those of a missing boy whose parents had expressed concern for his safety, Hxxx said.

Police Chief William Mxxx said Wednesday that investigators believed the body, which was found near the Ford Dam on Tuesday, might have been dismembered as part of an occult ritual.

Sgt. Jon Hxx, the Minneapolis police expert on occult crimes, has investigated the Lakewood theft. He said he has noticed an increasing amount of cult-type activities and growing numbers of young people interested in them.

Lakewood workers discovered the theft of the drowned boy's body on Jan. 22, Gxxx said. Thieves are believed to have broken into the boy's outdoor granite crypt on Jan. 20 or 21, he said.

Workers found that the boy's casket had been opened and his body removed. Nothing else was amiss and there was no note or identifying material left behind, Gxx said.

"We were certainly appalled by what happened," he said.

Lakewood increased security after the theft and was considering further measures yesterday, including putting guards on duty around the clock, Gxx said. He said the cemetery, one of Minnesota's largest, covers more than 250 hilly acres with monuments that provide easy hiding places.

Gxx said the decision not to tell the boy's parents of the theft was made "in cooperation with the police to keep it low-key, pending the outcome of the investigation."

Minneapolis police, citing concern for the boy's family, also declined to issue reports of the theft until late yesterday. Deputy Chief David Dxx said: "I was told the management of the cemetery had decided not to inform the parents."

Gxxx said, "I feel comfortable with the decision we made under those circumstances. We're going to reevaluate that for sure. It's a very difficult question. We hope we never have to make that decision again."

According to Howard Fxxxxx of the Minnesota Cemetery Association, it may be a decision that no other cemetery manager in the state has ever had to make. Fox has worked with the association more than 40 years. He said he had never before heard of a grave robbing in Minnesota.

Gxx said he believed there may have been previous grave robbings, especially in rural areas, "where it went totally unnoticed." He also acknowledged "some reluctance to report it" on the part of cemetery managers.

While the January incident is the first confirmed theft of a body from the cemetery, Lakewood has had several previous instances of grave tampering, Gxx said.

Last October, the steel vault holding the body of a man buried in 1912 was pried open. Another grave was being dug nearby, which made the underground vault more accessible than usual, Gxx said. Police were called, but it was hard to tell if anything was taken from the coffin, he said.

Extensive vandalism occurred in 1975 at several private family mausoleums, but again, it was not known if remains were taken.

Also yesterday, the Ramsey County medical examiner's office said identification of a second body recovered from the Mississippi Wednesday had been delayed until dental records could be obtained. It was found during a search for missing body parts of the boy. Police said the body may be that of a missing 59-year-old St. Paul woman who was seen jumping from the Ford Bridge in December 1988.


.........................

[ST. PAUL Edition]

The mutilated body of a boy found in the Mississippi River was identified by police Friday as that of a 9-year-old drowning victim whose body was stolen from Lakewood Cemetery in Minneapolis last month.

Identification was made by comparing toeprints taken from the body with birth records of the boy, St. Paul police said. The unusual procedure was necessary because the head and hands had been removed from the body and are still missing. One foot also was severed, but was found near the body.

Police have said they believe that the body was dismembered as part of an occult ritual. No suspects have been identified. Cemetery officials discovered that the body was missing from an outdoor granite crypt Jan. 22 and reported the theft to police the next day. The boy's family was not told until this week.

David Dxx, deputy police chief of Minneapolis, yesterday defended withholding the information as an attempt to spare the parents anguish and to assist the investigation. But a lawyer for the boy's father said the police "have an absolute duty to disclose to victims that a crime has been committed" against them.

The boy's father "feels strongly that there has been a breach of trust and that it has added substantially to the pain that the family has had to endure," said the lawyer, Brad Exx of Minneapolis. "The next of kin had a right to know if there was a problem of security at Lakewood and a right to know long ago that their son's body was missing."

Dxx said, "Based on prior cases nationally, human remains taken from cemeteries are rarely recovered. Informing parents would also mean informing them of how bodies are treated ritualistically by those that take them. There were no investigative leads, and to tell the parents at that point could have resulted in their having to bear an immense burden for the rest of their lives."

He also said that if the theft had been publicized earlier the grave robbers might have disposed of the body in a different way. Police might withhold information again from families whose relatives' bodies are stolen, Dxx said. "It depends on the circumstances," he said. Grave-robbing is prohibited under Minnesota theft statutes and carries a maximum penalty of five years in prison and a $10,000 fine.

Meanwhile, the boy's body remained at the Ramsey County medical examiner's office in St. Paul. Exx said the parents, who are divorced, had made no decision on reburial.

"The priority of the family at this time is to deal with the grief by turning to prayer and their family," he said. "The tragedy of the drowning was devastating and the current events are overwhelming. The family is distraught.

"The father's immediate concern is for the welfare of his family, and he is choosing not to apply his energy at this time to the failure of Lakewood Cemetery to notify the family that the grave had been disturbed and the body removed."

The body was found Tuesday in the river just above the Ford Dam. The severed foot was found nearby. An extensive search for the head and hands was unsuccessful.

During the search a second body was discovered in the same area of the river. It was identified yesterday as that of Carol Michael, 59, a St. Paul woman who was seen jumping from the Ford Bridge on Dec. 7, 1988.


.........................

[METRO Edition]

Warrants have been issued for the arrest of two men police believe stole and mutilated the corpse of a 9-year-old boy from a Minneapolis cemetery three years ago.

Police have charged William Cxxx and Wxxx with theft of a corpse. Jewelry was taken from the corpse, said Lt. Brad Jxx.

Neither man is in custody. Both could be in San Francisco, Jxx said Monday.

The boy's dismembered body was found in the Mississippi River in January 1990. It has been stolen from a Lakewood Cemetery crypt. The boy had drowned and his body was entombed in an above-ground crypt in 1989.

Jxx said police got a recent tip that somehow 19-year-old CMMxxx of Minneapolis, charged last month in connection with the strangulation death of his great aunt, might have known about the case. Jxxx said police interviewed CMMxxx. The two men were later charged with the theft based on statements police received from witnesses. CMMxxx has not been charged in connection with the theft of the corpse.

Lakewood Cemetery workers had discovered the boy's casket open and his body missing. Authorities didn't tell the boy's family about the theft until the body was found.

At the time, Lakewood Cemetery officials said the theft was the first in it's 119-year history.

Three years ago, St. Paul laboratory identification experts struggled with the identification of the headless and handless corpse. Authorities also believed the body had been in the river weeks before it was actually found.

Police had believed that the dismemberment of the body, which was found near the Ford Dam, might have been part of an occult ritual.

Lakewood increased security after the theft and considered further measures, including 24-hour guards.

CMMxxx, in a complaint filed in Hennepin County District Court, said he was angry at his aunt for several reasons and choked and strangled her, punched and stomped her head and neck. His aunt, Frances Wilson, was found dead in the triplex apartment she owned in the 2500 block of Emerson Av. S.


.........................

[METRO Edition]

Charges were dismissed Thursday against a Minneapolis man accused of taking a corpse from Lakewood Cemetery more than three years ago.

Hennepin County District Judge Wxxx dismissed the charge of theft of a corpse against Bxxx, 21, after Corty's attorney successfully argued that the three-year statute of limitations had expired.

Cxxx and Wxxx were charged in February with the January 1990 theft of the body of a child. Corty's attorney, Bill Mxxx, said the charges should have been filed within three years of the crime.

Cxxx, however, pleaded guilty to theft on May 19 and is serving a nine-month sentence in the county workhouse and is to undergo treatment.

Cxxx had been out of state for a time, which stops the statute of limitations from running. The prosecution claimed that Corty also had been out of state and could still be charged, but Posten disagreed.

The body was reported missing from an above-ground crypt at Lakewood Cemetery in Minneapolis in January 1990; it was found weeks later in the Mississippi River. Three years later, an informant told police Wxxxx and Cxxxx were involved.

Mxxx said Wxxxx was a troubled adolescent at the time of the theft, but has matured.

"He feels badly for the parents he knows he caused pain," Mxx said. "He has expressed that to them."


.........................

[METRO Edition]

The family of a boy whose body was stolen from Lakewood Cemetery in 1990 has sued the Minneapolis cemetery and the two men charged with the theft.

The 9-year-old boy was killed in an accident and buried in May 1989.

The body was taken in January 1990. It was found weeks later in the Mississippi River.

Three years later, an informant led police to Wxxxx and Bxxx.

The suit filed in Hennepin County District Court alleges that the cemetery and Miller and Corty withheld information from the family about the violation of the burial site and removal of the body. It says the cemetery failed to disclose that trespassing and vandalism were prevalent concerns and that the body of another person was stolen in 1989.

The men's actions of removing and mutilating the body and displaying it to others were extreme, outrageous and beyond the bounds of decency, the suit says.

It says that the actions of Lakewood Cemetery, Cxxx and Mxxx caused the family personal and emotional pain and seeks damages of at least $50,000.

The complainants include the boy's father, stepmother, sister and half-sister.

Charges against Cxxx were dismissed in July 1993 because the statute of limitations had expired.

Mxxx pleaded guilty in May 1993 and was sentenced to nine months in the Hennepin County Workhouse.

of course, my god

Don't read the previous entry with any kind of thoughts other than... I finally felt compelled to write something.

I mean, fuck, it's dry as hell. It sounds robotic. It reads like a boring Saturday paper.

But it's a bit of what I'm living. And I neglected to insert how my big boss glanced at me at one point and I wondered if he was studying my high heels because he's into them, or that the blushing Chief of Staff didn't blush this time but kind of dropped cool hints of what he's into, or how I felt turned on multiple times during my meeting - despite my period.

It was simply work relief out loud on my blog.

There's so much more going on, but so much of it is just living and loving. I'll write when I can. For now, that's what transpired.

relief for a control freak

I wasn't always like this, and it's good that I remember it.

I remember when I was in my twenties and I swore I'd never, ever become so anti-social as my parents. I was punk rock and partied every chance I got. How could one ever decide to say no to a social gathering? Now I know. When all energy is spent during work hours trying to navigate the social fabric of a large organization, the last thing I find myself interested in is dealing with more personalities.

I remember staying up until 4am as a teenager in Buenos Aires. After all, that's just the culture. Dinner is eaten at 9 or 10pm. Lateness is a compliment - 30 minutes is perfect. Early or punctual, and you're regarded as an outsider. And the famous saying is "mañana, mañana." Again, in my twenties, it was natural for me to stay up until bar time - and try to push bartenders to stay open later. I scoffed at my parents and older friends who retired at midnight (or earlier!) to the quiet of their graveyard-like homes. I also swore I'd never need cover-up for under-eye circles or a blow dryer to pretty up my hair, much less any kind of "product" or preening.

Combine the two, and I've got to be up by 6am for an hour-and-half routine of showering, making coffee, putting a lunch together, checking my personal email (it's not allowed on work computers - thank god for the iphone), doing my hair, placing the make-up, and donning the professional work clothes I chose the night before. (God help me how many times the bus is late as I am!) Anyone who knew me before these days has laughed belly-over at the fact that I'm actually becoming a "morning person," while not joyous in the morning I am teaching my brain to actually be congnizant before 10am. So, this leads to enhancing the first point - ugh, people after work hours - and to an early bedtime. At first, because of the steep learning curve, I was like a teenager and required a full night of 8 hours. Then, I adjusted a bit, and could function on 6-7 hours. But now, I'm in a new position (executive assistant - what do they do? "execute!") and again I suffer without a full 8 hours of sleep. This puts me into bed by 10pm - assisted by magic little OTC blue pills.

It didn't use to matter if I had a smear here, a stain there, a forgetfulness over here. But somewhere along the lines - after my days in the non-profit but before grad school, maybe while studying for the GRE - I decided that I couldn't live without some kind of striving for perfection. It's always been inside me, perhaps a bit dormant. My father always tried to instill in us the objective of perfection - that we would never be so, but that the act of trying for it was good enough. In fact, it was perfect to aim for perfection. "Fail to plan, plan to fail." "Proper planning prevents piss poor performance." I also read in a book somewhere, and was confirmed by several dominants with whom I've engaged, that submissives are the biggest control freaks ever. It makes sense in a way. They/we aim to please, strive to fulfill our dominants' needs, want to be better and look better to reflect on them, want to clean the house better or serve the best and most formal way (if we're service subs), want to take as much pain as possible (if we're S&M subs), want to get every little action or position as perfectly as possible (to avoid - or reduce - a punishment, which we may or may not seek anyway), etc.

It's very interesting to me that my colleagues don't know this side of me. They don't understand that even if they tell me XYZ meeting isn't a big deal at all, it means the world to me to get it right. That they say ABC report doesn't mean so much because GHI agency won't really read it - I'm still compelled to complete it perfectly. This can be a hiderence if I don't control the control freak. For instance, boss man tasked me with writing a paper on a certain budget possibility. In the middle of writing it, the woman who previously held my position stopped by and I asked her, "when is it enough?" Of course, she reminded me of what I knew in grad school. "At some point you have to stop researching it and write it. You'll never know everything. You can't. You're too new and you're not omniscient."

So, here it was. A big meeting today. I'd been put in the position to coordinate it. The Commissioner was there and someone tried to introduce us - although we'd been introduced twice and I'd bumped into him in the hallway several times - and he said, "Oh yeah. I already know her. How's it goin'? [something he says EVERY time I see him] I hear you're doing a great job." [The little sub in me rejoiced. Or, perhaps, the girl on the border of X-generation and Y-generation. I'm told my generation and younger seek more validation in their work than previous generations.] "Well, thank you. That's nice." I had nothing more to offer or comment. I was a bit taken aback. My big boss isn't one to offer much feedback at all, thus, I'm only assured that I'm doing a good job by the fact that I'm still in the position that I'm in - would have been transferred if I wasn't working out to his standards.

But then the mistakes. The mistakes came in rolling over the day-long important meeting. One representative wasn't present, although I thought I'd communicated clearly that she was supposed to be there. (Although this doesn't count as a mistake too much as people had told me how problematic she'd been in the past.) Then, the missing last page of Mr. Y's presentation. I went back to the office after the meeting and there it was, the communication from the Commissioner's chief of staff to omit that page. Whew! I had to forward it to him, humbly, just to point out the fact that I was, in fact, not in the wrong and did not neglect my duties, but that there was a missed communication in the end. Same with a following presentation. A page was missing. I have yet to dig up the email communication on that one, but I'm pretty set in knowing that it wasn't my failure.

And that's all new to me. In the good ol' days, I could have let it roll off my back. But in this new spotlight, I feel ever more compelled to make it right, make it excel, make it outstanding. I don't want to meet expectations, and I don't just wan to exceed what people think I can do, I want to knock their fucking socks off. Not that I'm aiming for some superior rise up the ladder, because frankly I don't think I want to be an executive - I'm too lazy. But I want them to think I can gel in the funny moments of the secret downtime between them. I want them to know I can pull anything off and do it superbly.

Sigh. Who is this new person? "Who has kidnapped my sister?" My sister asked. All of this newness even boils down into my dirty sex life. I've been seeing ....

TBC.

and no editing.