My name is David Aschenbrenner and this is my life story.
The last few days memories of my childhood and later events have preoccupied my mind. Reading the life stories of others revealed the inherent commonality of my life experiences with others. My perspectives originate from my own brain. It is impossible to prove this when another’s perception is different. Would not the proof be in the difference? Would the impossibility of knowing another’s thoughts that cause different emotions be evidence to each ones individuality. Would this individuality prove our commonality? Are we only common or equal from birth with innocence seeking the difference…believing how different we are. What kind of judgement or justification do we use in establishing our difference?
As a child I took no thought for my well being. My cares were exploring the world; tastings, smelling, listening and touching everything in my path. My paths involved wonder and excitement being woven into a world of drama and pain. My child perceptions changed with experiences that removed the innocence of exploring the world; tastings, smelling, listening and touching everything in my path. My child brain underwent a change called adult behavior. Childlike innocence was replaced by parents with power that taught me the greatness of being an adult. The adult consequences made the child in me disappear no where to be found.
Growing up I wanted to be like my father whom I viewed strong in principle demonstrated in his role as a deputy sheriff and being a strict father. His adventuring nature manifest in becoming a pilot and building his own airplane and helicopter…He walked, drove and flew a large remote area and often had me along. My pride was well underway establishing me like my father. I worked to get an education in criminal justice so I could become a police officer. Sought the highest paying job that I had vocational training for which was a machinist. My father was also a machinist, millwright and innovator. Pilot training happened at the same time as college… taking a full load.
Meanwhile, my first marriage was falling apart and a myriad of experiences challenging my well being and those around me. The divorce changed everything in my life. Religion was in my life and I felt I was on the right track. I became a deputy sheriff. I learned to fly and got me an ultralight. I indeed was living my fathers dream. I became a zealous church servant believing I was special by example desiring equality for all. I was deceived and deceiving others in believing God would solve poverty and I could live the American dream. Everything was not right in my life.
A series of events brought me down into hopelessness. I became sick with Lyme’s disease. It became a good excuse for not going to church My desire to live dreams of others was tormenting me with the pains of self denial. My conscience was at battle and life was loosing its value. Not active into the church I secluded myself away reading night and day the Book of Mormon which I felt held the keys to understanding and finding some peace. I believed if I kept reading and searching I would figure out what I really needed to “know” to remove the “need to know” worm that seems to be the cause of much unhappiness. I was convinced that the Book of Mormon came from God and I believed that Joseph Smith was involved in making it happen. Joseph spoke of translated beings behind the scenes. Promises of The Sealed Portion coming forth and the consequences of rejecting it was made plain for those who had to stumble. I realized I was one of those who had stumbled. Nothing about organized religion made sense…but the Book of Mormon caused me peace with a hope for the truth of all things.
When I discovered The Sealed Portion online a week before Christmas of 2016 I read several pages…slammed the laptop shut and said to myself “this is the work of the devil”
After a few minutes of reasoning and checking in on my emotions I continued to read profound mental processes that allowed reasoning similar to childlike inclinations. The simplicity seems almost unbearable for an adult mind so I found myself devaluing everything that I have learned from adults as being their own truth.
The writings of the Real Illuminati has engaged my mind in a way that I can remember and return to that state of mind as a child. The peace that comes from non attachment to adult drama is what only a child can know. Trusting in my senses to provide information about my experiences and reasoning with my own discernment provides wonderful power of personal positive regard for myself and others. This is my quest…I am no different than
This intro will be followed with events of my personal life with my opinions of my experiences, hopefully without embellishment …so I am learning as I write and find myself editing… doing my best to not distract or present myself with vanities…but show from my perspective who David L Aschenbrenner is and how these experiences in my life have led me to where I am now.
My Story Summary
I was raised, till age 14, in the high desert of the Great Basin area of Nevada. A small town located 130 miles North of Reno known for being remote. “Where thee pavement ends the West begins” was Gerlach’s slogan having a community of approx. 200 people including surrounding ranchers, Empire US Gypsum Plant company town and and Western Union Railroad Depot families. At one time five bars served Gerlach with one church in Empire five miles away. Other entertainment included yearly rodeos and a community hall where we kids would watch reeled movies for a dime. The town had a deputy sheriff, a town constable and a Justice of Peace and a jail. The jail was an inescapable four by eight dark dungeon. I will tell you more about my experience with the jail later.
My dad was the deputy sheriff known for his kindness and his diverse skills. Mom was raised by her father with 2 brothers and 2 sisters in the same area hiring out to ranchers. Both were a handsome couple with good energy always enjoying each other and mixing with the towns people playing Pinochle, dancing at the bars and visiting our uncles and cousins on the ranch. The flood of memories, as of recent, about this period of my life have revealed how my experiences with those around me have defined me as the kind of human being I thought I was and what others hoped I would be.
I will be sharing my father threatening to lock me up in the small dungeon jail when I was eight years old. When I cut my eyebrows off…when I played spin the bottle…my experience climbing a razor edge peak…when I locked my sisters in their bedroom…when I stole a mans under ware …The Gerlach hot springs; when I first saw dead people…The view of the bathtub drain with my drawers down…My crushes in grade school…when the school burned down…Dad gets airplane stuck in mud which changes everything in our lives…moved to Oregon. Briefly, Everything that has contributed or influenced my life has brought me to this point to my journey.
I have learned I am not who I thought I was. Details of my experiences hopefully will illuminate the truth about myself. The high desert portion of my life was my foundation of discovering who I am.
Portion two will include my years in Oregon…working for school cloths, graduating from high school, fishing paradise, enlisted in US army, Married and divorced 2 times with two daughters, worked plywood and lumber mills, became a machinist making nuclear reactor parts…cleared the brake room with a hose bomb, took flying lessons…scared the crap out of myself, took criminal justice at community college and became volunteer at city police and sheriffs department, ran away after divorce…homeless for two years, returned home start a roofing company and take temporary custody of my two girls to help their mother, Moved to western Oregon as a jailer and deputy sheriff assigned marine patrol. Later, I became full time deputy or undersheriff for two years. In 1988, after divorce of second wife I moved back to Gerlach, Nevada and worked at a ranch as a mechanic and labor. Then met Rella.
Rella was my last wife who lived in Fort Bragg, CA. I moved there in 1989 after meeting her camping at a hot pool where my cousin and I would wash off the hayseed and dirt from a days work. Working as a mechanic for a sea urchin processor for two years…led into handyman services and then back to roofing. During these 30 yrs I had rejoined the LDS church and dropped out again…requesting my name be removed from church records…happening 5 yrs ago upon reading the Sealed Portion of the Book of Mormon. Since then everything I understand about religion and politics has come from the Humanity Party and MWAW because it makes total sense and has given me profound insights to who I really am.
This concludes my summary. I will be adding experiences.
My Mother Memory- Clearest and earliest visual recollection of memories… I saw myself as a baby in a baby buggy looking up at my mother and another woman at her side. My mother’s radiance complimented with long brunette wavy hair, bright red lips and hazel eyes contrasted against the blue sky was imprinted into my memories. I have been aware of this memory from childhood and have often wondered how it was imprinted so strongly as a memory. I was a day dreamer and loved my mother in ways my circumstances required it…not only was she my natural source of nourishment and dependence for feeling loved but also my protector. I don’t remember harsh words from my mother….she let me do most what I wanted to do.
Located between two dry lakes against a granite mountain range that towered 9000 feet was the perfect place for me to grow up…my adventures often alone starting as early as 5 yrs old took me miles away from home. Hot pools or any spring was a destination mixed with mountain climbing, cave exploring and chasing jack rabbits. Half the time mom did not know where I was because I got easily distracted. She was always happy to hear my adventures that I thought I could share.
Dad was the deputy sheriff who had to uphold an image…This little terror (me) often met with a belt or stick. Lying and getting into his tools and loosing them in the dirt was a sure retribution. On one occasion, the only occasion I remember wearing shorts, I did something that really pissed him off. It started with me fleeing for my life with my father hot on my ass with a belt getting in a few good licks. I was faster than him that day…I ran and jumped onto the garden fence post against the garage with a metal roof…familiar with the route I quickly scurried across the old rusty tin roof and down the other side. Dad was yelling at me shaking the belt intent on catching my little ass. I was going down the other side of the roof to fast to stop. I aimed for a railroad tie fence post coming up short and sliding down the old weathered creosote soaked post…no time to inspect the wounds as dad was hot on my ass…down the fence line against the house with only room for skinny me I pushed my way through bushes arriving in the front yard. Here comes dad around the corner and here comes mom out the front door…My mother had great power…without a harsh word she took me into her arms…their was no argument that I could remember…dad must have went for a walk. Mom took the tweezers and began the torture of pulling wood slivers anointing with iodine. I remember the inside of my legs, belly chest and arms filled with slivers….I should have taken the whipping. So my mom was my protector and would give me anything I wanted…Maybe what I thought was a memory as a baby was just a day dream. Maybe if I was more submissive to my father I would have learned how to control my emotions and listened more to reason.
My Father Memories-
The relationship I had with my father, as a boy, seemed confusing. I looked upon him as the greatest example of a man who was honorable, honest and kind to everyone. He was known as Cisco, which was the only name he was called by except at grandma’s and relatives on dad’s side…They called him Tommy.
It was from grandma that I learned I had another brother and sister by dad’s two previous marriages. I was about 15 years old when met my half sister, Janice..I was 50 yrs old when I met my half brother, James. Dad never spoke of any of his previous relationships nor did he speak of his children…Mom never spoke of these things either so everything I learned about my father came from grandma and aunt Deloris who was dad’s half brother’s wife. Their stories about my father shared a completely different view of my father. Grandma spoke of dad having a grandmother from his father’s side that was part Cherokee Indian and seemed ashamed…she would not speak more of this indian heritage. She had nothing good to say about dad’s father. Dad was raised by uncles and step fathers in unstable relationships was what I determined.
Gatherings on dad’s side of the family were fun with lots of food, laughter and games. Pinochle was the adult game which I was fascinated by and love to hang out with the adults…otherwise if it was daylight my cousin and I would go fishing at two ponds on their property in the Willamette Valley Oregon.
At home dad was my disciplinarian. His answer to preventing me from doing stupid stuff was a scalding rebuke often followed with a whipping. As much as I dreaded the whipping I never was angry with him. I didn’t see it as cruel or mean. I thought I was a bad boy….but quickly forgot and would find something exciting to do….and do I did…
Must have been about 6 yrs old when I talked my sister into an adventure into dad’s firebox. Lots of cool stuff like shovels, picks, gunny sacks and FLARES! I watched dad light them before and knew the perfect place to do it. My sister, Karen innocently followed along as an accomplice. behind our backyard fence was an old garbage dump and it had old bed mattresses and stuff that we (I) ignited.
Then… sitting next to dad in his pickup truck parked in front of a tinny fortress, I refer to it as a dungeon or jail. Dad had enough of my wild escapades…he was going to teach me a life changing lesson…as I sat there sobbing and sorry as could be, dad said I had a choice to go into that jail and never come out or …He held up a book of matches and said you can choose to have your fingers burned so you will never forget. It was my choice and I will never forget.
As a flying deputy sheriff my dad would fly to far flung places in the high desert. I got to fly with him when he was serving papers or searching for whatever. Dad never talked to me much so I was left to guessing what he was up to…One time we were flying down the playa and I had just polished off a bag of plums…suddenly dad turns a tight bank…points the nose of the aircraft down and cuts the engine and we shot upwards….he was focused on the instruments and I was getting worried. We went from being warm to very cold…the whole world grew larger and the mountains and playa shrank. Nothing made sense and dad was saying nothing. I didn’t want to seem stupid so I didn’t ask…instead I turned green and upchucked the prunes back into the brown paper bag. Dad was a smart man…he recognized right away that he needed to land the airplane…too late…the bag broke.
My dad was a practical joker and loved to make me the brunt of his jokes. My awkwardness and shyness were easy targets and would often provide a laugh for others. I acquired the name Firecracker at about the time of becoming a firebug. It might have been because of my birthday on July 4th. Some of the old timers called me Little Cisco. Other adventures of hunting and fishing with my father gave familiarity with the wonderful person he was and wanted me to be…memorable quotes from my father: “there are people who like to talk about people, there are people who like to talk about things and there are people who like to talk about ideas”; “it is better to keep your mouth shut and be thought stupid than to open your mouth and remove all doubt”.
I felt as a child my father was right and my mother was right…even my aunts and uncles and all others…never liked conflict or argument. My child like brain was wired to have fun and be nice…well except when I would be a joker at someone else’s expense…my perverted humor has been negatively received teaching me not to ridicule and mock…thanks dad-dude!￼
Being a physical result of my parents gave me many natural tendencies…ie; genetically that seem unconquerable. By the nature of reasoning I could recognize that I was a unique individual and so was everybody else. Understanding more about my childhood and the influences of those around me helps me to put things in a perspective that gives me more peace. The reasoning part makes me think I am in control and the genetic part takes it away…but then my mind can make something seem right because I want it to….so I am screwed up and screwed unless someone that knows… shows in word and deed something that makes complete sense and cannot be challenged.
As a thinking person I found much of my life wasted in my imaginations or other’s. I actually aspired to become a police officer and a pilot and to be that noble/honorable religious man who was respected in church and community…a nice guy. The belief system I aspired to had an amazing control system put in place that promised freedom from the pains of our sins if I would give the Lord 10 percent and do only what church leaders tell me to do….also promising the faithful would inherit eternal life while hell waited for all others in its different degrees of glory.
Approximately 46 yrs my life was devoted to church believing Christ was to come and remove the misery and save us in our sins. Married and divorced 3 times, fathering 2 girls with my first wife, a step father to 4 children with second wife and last marriage lasted 25ish yrs. Messed up ideas about sex and the complications in relationships seem to have their own world of distraction using emotional pain to continue unhealthy or unkind behavior. This was my belief as of 5 yrs ago when we were divorced.
Rella believed the same as well. We healed our wounds and each redirected our life to treat each other with kindness and to live our own lives as each thought fit. We are not sexually involved and have separated our ties to each other. having few expectations other than being kind…These last 5 years have been more peaceful for both Rella and myself. She will most likely never want to know what has changed my heart in the last 5 yrs. She has been invited but chose not to look. That is where I left it.
One of my daughters who has passed on related to me before she went….Dad, I know what you are doing and support you…My daughters knew of my wildcard nature and never tried to tell me how to live my life nor I them.
All wasn’t lollipops in a daisy field…I hurt emotionally all those people in whom I was connected by way of a marriage or rather a sex and ego job and the by product will be children that can teach us how to love…really?? How miserable would life need to be to recognize nonsense produces nonsense? I couldn’t answer that.
But a book got my attention…one that I had been waiting for many years…it had been promised in the Book of Mormon which I believed was inspired by God. The book was The Sealed Portion of the Book of Mormon. Everything that I had ever considered about religion was explained making complete sense. Thus began my journey using my mind differently quieting fears and finding peace when I need it. Since then my reading is from the Real Illuminati and Our Messenger. :-)