My first effort to leave home failed due to circumstances beyond my control. Even a summer job turned out to be unrealistic as a result of harassment. To make matters worse, upon returning from my second effort to help my children, a concern raised by one of them coincided with a series of hate crimes across the Country, including one in Montana that might have been related to my earlier effort to work there, or my own history and a hate crime scene that I encountered on the way home.
A complaint filed at mafia.com after I left for the second time (Mothers Against Fathers In Arrears dot com) named me as a father who was dodging child support in Oilmont Montana; a ghost town since the 1920s when fracking destroyed the water table. I left again to find work because ongoing liable was being used to separate me from my opportunities at home, but defamation on the web made my effort more challenging.
I don't remember much about our time there, I was only two when we arrived and four by the time we left, but I do remember a few things; mom was very sick for a while and I suffered with my first bout of depression, and we had a window fan that introduced me to the Wagon Wheel Effect.
After returning from Germany and Barbados, Minneapolis seemed like an idyllic spot to settle down. Little did I realize what kind of trouble I was in while adapting to fresh milk from the farms (all we had was powdered milk in the Islands). So by the 1980s, I thought I'd take Anonymity a little more seriously. Please see: The Trestle by The Electronic Machinery Corporation.