‘Oh Jesus, it’s Sharon DeRycke and now she knows I’m a Bill Boom whore’

When FBI Director Dirty James Comey presented Braking Traffick with his “Director’s Award” for their work at ending Human Trafficking in the Quad-Cities, I was pretty excited at first.

After all, writing about human trafficking – to the point of being laughed at in my community – has been my passion for several years now.

It all started when my friend Sam Davis was pulled out of the Mississippi River, dead. Originally, the corrupt Rock Island Police Department called it an “accident.” Indeed, my former AA sponsor, Kai Swanson, told me “it was an accident” adding “those rocks are slippery” and “they found his bike” or something to that effect.

I don’t trust Kai Swanson any further than I can throw him. I fired him as my AA sponsor a short time later and decided to pursue science-based recovery methods instead of dangerous Alcoholics Anonymous.With the help of my therapist, I remained sober until I fell off the wagon – in Florida at a luxury hotel where the only place you could eat was a bar.

With the help of Valerie Olson at Southpark Psychology, I remained sober except for the six-month relapse following two and a half years of sobriety. I joked the Mojo strain of cannabis (only kidding, Nature’s Grace, it’s just SO good) made me want to have a beer, too.

With Valerie’s help, I have learned to practice mindfulness which for me is all it takes. I don’t desire drugs or alcohol except for my medical cannabis. And when it comes to that I don’t play.

So, as I was vacationing in Florida, I received a call. From a victim’s advocate at the FBI. Read all about that fiasco by clicking here.

It’s good she called. I suspect I was in a VERY dangerous place.

Read all about my Florida vacation by clicking here.

And here.

Sam Davis: Why I went to MEG in the first place

I decided to go to Metropolitan Enforcement Group (MEG) about what I knew regarding Sam Davis. Sam had been reaching out to me on Facebook with a big scandal to tell. I wasn’t sure what to think – at that point I had exited the bar scene and had no ill will against Sam Davis, and actually was worried a bit about Sam. He had some Facebook posts that to me showed he might be in imminent danger.

It was weird.

His posts were sort of like mine before I was arrested on no charges at all and tortured in the Rock Island County Jail shortly after going to authorities about Sam Davis.

The timeline is foggy, but it’s all written down somewhere.

I was struck by the death of Sam Davis. Sam and I always were thrown out of parties at Bill Boom and Dan Fox’s houses TOGETHER. It was not a big deal to either of us, I don’t think, as it became par for the course.

While Sam and I would publicly banter, and I would make fun of his laugh, when the chips were down I think we both felt like we were the only two gay men with brains in the whole town.

Sam more than once ordered me to write HIV stories for the Quad-City Times, long before he had the diagnosis. Of course, I wrote them. I was going to write them anyway.

Over time but not soon enough, I realized I should be grateful to Sam when he would scream on the Mary’s patio “You better make that a damned good story, it’s important!” It was his way of encouraging me. Loudmouth activism, just like me now!!! And my videos!!!

RIP, Sam Davis. And David Harker.And…

Who knows how many others. So many are missing.

Sam would graciously sponsor burgers now and then when I would drive us back to Sam’s after we’d be thrown out of the party. He even sometimes would cook me food at his apartment by Augustana. I loved Sam’s dog very, very much. We would walk his dog on the Augustana campus now and then.

I would hang out at Sam’s and sober up until driving home. We would watch YouTube videos, mostly. Which is so funny because I still do that, LOL, and don’t know of a whole lot of people who do.

My conversation with MEG

Before I even got the story completely out about Sam Davis, who in retrospect was messaging me in distress, then-MEG director Kevin Winslow boomed, “What do you know about Bill Boom?”

I said I thought Bill operated a sex ring. Never a word about drugs. I told them about another nasty, too. Or seven.

Then, it was meMoline police arrested on no charges at all, at my dad’s memory care facility, no less. I thought I was danger and began to scream for help. That’s why the filthy, corrupt, depraved, disgraced Moline Police Department say they arrested me.

They held me two days. They tortured me.

A plan was made to fly me the hell out of the Quad-Cities on a jet plane. Just “put him through the tunnel and onto a C17.”

I know plenty about Bill Boom and all the filthies. No wonder my house is all shot up.

But I did not call to say anything about Bill Boom. Rather, one of his “associates.” Naiive me had NOOOOOOOOOOOO idea how extensive this all is.

Hell no!

Miss Ditto’s Thang

Some things you just don’t want to talk about. Even if they are key to the justice you seek, at least in the eyes of some.

Yes, Bill Boom’s lover, James “Ditto” Dickersonhad an affinity for me and apparently it WAS a secret to some people. My “sexless ex-husband” Scott Smith knew.

He got real mad at a Christmas party once and stormed out.

I had been dressed up by Miss Ditto, the famed photo yet to be revealed. Indeed, a rock of powder cocaine was lodged in my made-up nostril, Miss Ditto’s favorite wig, bright red lipstick, rouge, the tiara.

The boa.

BoaS.

I still have the tiara, but in a cannabis dry spell ripped the boa up in a rage. Feathers remain here and there.

Feathers even are floating about the Quad-City Times newsroom.

Kay Luna knows.

‘Cocaine Jeff’ blah-blah-blah-blah

My association with that group was privileged. I got free everything and seldom put out. Or at least I thought.

I was kept by one guy, I can see that in retrospect. But how funny. As I made it clear to him from day one he had no influence over me whatsoever, and now I understand why Miss Smith giggled like crazy when I would refuse to pick his drunk a$$ up at Hawkeye Tap.

If the sheriff’s department knew what I heard in that jail as they held and tortured me on no charges at all…

Well they do know. And now we all will know.

I heard them say, “Call Cocaine Jeff, maybe he will take him.”

And then say, “No, Jeff said his mom hates him.”

Correct. Helen hated me. I was not obedient to her son.

Jeff speaks as though he has eight rows of teeth in his mouth, perhaps like a killer shark. His unmistakable voice is what I reached when I called 911 one night…and when I called Amber Ridge Memory Care one night.

He said he had to look “Benny Heitz up in the database, I don’t see him in the database.”

I told him to shove his database up his ass. The RIPD was standing right there.

My friend Heather Gray’s mom also had a mysterious weird deal go down when she called 911 that night.

911 call center of corrupt Illinois Quad-Cities is filth.

Me and Miss Ditto on the Kitchen Floor

So there I was, just me and Miss Ditto, in the million-dollar kitchen by Robert Herdich’s ex-husband. Beautiful and stunning. He does very good work.

Miss Ditto and I had been swigging the Fire Water and were coked up, I am sure, beyond imagination.

Miss Ditto always had, maybe just one more bump of cocaine. “MISSSSSY! Mama thinks she has one more bag…one more baaaaggggggg…..”

Which cookbook had Jimmy placed the coke in?

Next, we were on the floor naked, doing what gay guys do. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t into it at first, Jimmy was a nice-looking man and I was flattered, to tell you the truth.

But then,

“F*&k ME!” he demanded.

Just like that.

I did, and “You’re really a member of the family now,” was the response, and my heart sank into my big toe.

It felt like when I decided to be executive news editor of The Advocatethen wished I hadn’t done it.

But I don’t feel that way now about The Advocate.

Or Miss Ditto.

I did feel ordered to f*&$ him, and that’s what creeped me out.

But as Ditto said when at first I said no, “Oh Please, Miss Heitz! He’s up there with his young boys!”

Linda Watson could testify as to the conversations I had with her regarding time off for Miss Ditto’s funeral. Ditto was important to me.

Hell no, here comes Sharon Derycke

At any rate, a couple of weeks after Ditto and I did the deed, there we were, just the three of us, throwing the football around the front yard. Bill Boom, Ditto, and myself.

And up the steps comes SharonDeRycke.

She probably did not see me. I made it clear to Ditto I did not want her to, and we skedaddled to the kitche.

Yep, KWQC Everybody-Loves-Sharon (applause for Sharon?) Derycke, the anchor with no contanker, who knows, maybe I had been coked up a full 24 hours. Hard telling.

“I thought, ‘Oh Jesus, it’s Sharon DeRycke and now she knows I’m a Bill Boom whore.’”

It’s a shoe that never fit, and they all know it, especially in retrospect.

There’s much more I could talk about. The Christmas parties. “Signed, Sealed, Delivered.” OMG.

Wow.

Miss Ditto inspired, and continues to inspire, my numbers

You people have no idea. In fact, very, very few people know how Miss Ditto and I partied. Perhaps a climax moment was when Miss Ditto and I were in full glory, dancing to “Here I am Ba-by! Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours!”

The home had an extensive sound system for techno at the parties.

I was whirling, and twirling, and Miss Ditto and I were having SO much fun, I twirled and the conch shell bracelet Miss Ditto had adorned me with went straight into the ceiling fan.

Nina saw it. Nina came out that night. Nina is my sexless ex-husband when she’s angry.

Now, people have died, and that’s really all I want to say. I have spoken to the families of people who have died. Apparently at least one feels they got further with me than with any Illinois Quad-City municipal police departments or even the Illinois State Police.

And I want to stress, there has been zilch communication between me and the FBI since they threatened me last October.

But they’re the FBI, if they do things right

Who remembers the drag queen Chris Echew who died?

I thought about Chris Echew today. And I fear I am not spelling his name right. If someone can respectfully help me on that I will fix it. Also the drag name. I cannot believe I can’t remember it, but I can’t right off.

Chris Echew took me to a party at Bill Boom’s that I was not supposed to attend one year. He was hilarious about it, too, when he dropped me off, poking his head in the door and announcing he knows he’s not allowed inside.

But funny how he did it.

Chris Echew mysteriously collapsed before a drag performance at Liquid not that much time thereafter, the timeline is so foggy.

Chris Echew lived in Bettendorf and was a nosy old lady just like me. And smart.

And loud.

No. 9…Paging No. 9….Mouthy Fox, come in Mouthy Fox…

Photo on 5-26-18 at 3.21 PM

I much preferred being a Fox to a Boomtista.

But in truth, I slept with several ranking and one periphery member: Bruce, Dan, Dan, Scott, Ditto…

The first one I slept with fled the group like a Mo Fo long ago. We remained friends and just look back on that drunken stormy night with Duke and laugh. Bruce is a wonderful man who deserves love and support from everybody. Always.

The videos fill in many of the blanks. AIDS Project Quad-Cities is hella filthy, or at least it was.

But I want to stress one thing.

I never slept with Bill Boom.

I did NOThave sex with that alderman. Not a single time.

When I looked at Dan Fox I had stars in my eyes

The thrill of the crowd was Dan Fox. Truly a fun guy. But he could display piggishness at times, and I would call him out on it.

It would break my heart if I ever found out Dan Fox was a bad guy. I hope he isn’t. Seems to me he gets taken advantage of as often as Charlie Brown, so sometimes I really just wonder. I miss Dan very much, but how can I ever go back to any of it?

So, where does that leave me?

A hottie for all the new guys who come to town who are decent, professional, caring, God-loving men. I bet there are one or two already here.

 

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