By Daniel J Towsey
This is another, in the many chapters of my unpublished auto-biographical book “The Snowball Effect”…
These are all true stories of my experiences as a child in Montreal Quebec in the late
fifties and into the late sixties, of horrific child abuses I suffered and witnessed while in the so called care of the Catholic Children’s Aid Society of Montreal.
These chapters in my life are not meant to be literary entertainment.
I am writing these chapters for a public record of the continued and deliberate attack on my person by those in authority.
These chapters can be very upsetting to caring and loving people, but will offer great entertainment to evil loving luciferians… So here goes.
It has often been said to me that I should not dwell on bad past memories and that I should think only about good past memories. That sounds like good advice.
But is impossible to achieve when ones whole childhood is a series of one horror after another.
Starting from the day I was born at St.Joseph’s Hospital in Montreal on November 12th 1957
I don’t want my readers to think that I have a hate for Christians as I do not. I believe there are allot of good Christians.
Its those in authority I have a serious problem with for they admit no wrongs and cover up their wrongs with more wrongs.
therefore causing the Perpetual snowball effect, and they never offer any compensation or apologies.
I have no good memories of my childhood. My childhood was absolutely horrific, lonely and very painful.
After I was released from the orphanage’s hospital where I spent over six months locked up while I recovered from a severe
blow to my head (which impaired my vision in my right eye for the rest of my life) by the nun that had been sexually molesting me.
She punched me to silence me, when I was in her classroom and I tried to speak up about the repeated psychological,
physical and sexual abuses she inflicted on me.
This nun never let me out of her sight, she held my hand all day and never let me speak to anyone.
She always walked with a belt or some other kind of device for inflicting pain.
She regularly viciously brutalized me and other little boys.so did other nuns..
this is why there were so many unreported deaths at this orphanage.
The beatings were everyday and many boys died from them…
It so hurts for me to write these experiences down. I had to stop here while I cried..
So after watching those children playing and having fun while I sat in that lonely window.
I felt I had to speak up..for I had never ever in my life been allowed to play with other children.
I had to stop to cry again..for the hurt will never leave me…for my vision hurts..for I have seen such evil in my life..
This is why I call myself The Visionary Folk Photographer.
I used to spend all my lonely hours up in that third floor classroom window that
over looked the court yard compound that other kids my age spent their
days playing in while I was kept as a sex slave prisoner.
The property was surrounded with ten foot high two foot thick stonewalls.
(Note, this was a gabled window with a really big shelf that I sat in) I was not a student.
I was to young. I was kept there so that the nun teacher could keep an eye on me and so that I could not speak to anyone about the authority and sexual pleasures she was having at my expense.
As I watch an infant play,
As I watch a child play,
As I watch a daughter play,
As I watch a son play As I watch a family play,
As I watch strangers play,
As I watch friends play,
As I watch and never play.
I Scream “Can I come out and play?”
My vision blurs with teardrops now.
As I die of loneliness. For no one knows I am there….
In that “Lonely Window
Maybe I was a victim of so many sexual perverts when I was a child because I was an absolutely beautiful child with blonde hair.
I am not saying this to be egoistical. I am just telling you the facts. I was an absolutely beautiful child…I had the face of an angel..
.and the love Jesus in my heart… So after I was released from the Catholic Hospital Prison .
I was sent out into the big world that I knew nothing about. For so far in my life I had only experienced utter loneliness, isolation, abuses and neglect.
I remember it being a warm summer day. I was in a busy metropolis city.
I remember hearing all the noises of the city.
This was a big change from the more than six months I spent locked up in isolation in that ward of the Catholic Children’s Aid Hospital.
So that no one would see the horrific injury to the right side of my head and face.
I remember my face being severely swelled up and bandages covering more than half my head.
I remember only being able to see out of my left eye.
I remember all the expressions of horror on the faces of all the other little boys that were also recovering from injuries they suffered at
the hands of the nuns, when they looked at my face.
I asked them if there was any mirrors, so that I could see my injuries.
They told me that all mirrors and reflective surfaces were removed before I was brought in.
They showed me the bathroom where the mirrors were removed.
They told me that even reflective knives, spoons etc were also all removed…
There was absolutely nothing reflective to be found while I stayed locked up in this hospital prison.
Now back to that warm summer day in the big city.
I remember having to reach way up to hold that strangers hand while I was being escorted to my next horrific experience as a victim of the Catholic Children’s Aid. No one ever spoke to me. All my new care givers were always given that Snowball impression that I was just a piece of human trash and to be treated as such. No one in the world loved me or cared about me. No one had ever given me any love affection or care.
So I was left with these strangers.
The door closed. It was very dark. I was holding a strangers hand.
The stranger never said a word to me. I remember looking down this long narrow gloomy hallway.
It was on of those historic old row pediments of downtown Montreal.
I walked down the long narrow hall. There was many closed doors.
Except for the one that was open at the end of the hall. The light from the open door was lighting up the hallway.
The person holding my hand never said a word to me and I never once looked up at this stranger. I have never seen this strangers face.
I was then put out in the back yard. And the door closed.
I was now in a completely foreign and alien environment. It was very sunny.
I just stood there and looked around. I was in a dark ugly dingy alleyway in old Montreal. Have you ever seen the movie “Oliver!”
Based on Charles Dickens Book? Do you remember that dark alleyway with the open sewer running in the middle.
The alleyway where the orphans ran through to get to that bridge that led to their hideout.
Remember near the end of the movie where the jewels disappeared into the sewage?
Will the place where I found myself was identical except that there was no open sewage.
All around me was old dark ugly wooden properties.
I looked just like in the Oliver movie. Anyway. I noticed that I was trapped in a fenced in compound.
There was litter and objects (debris) all over this compound.
So I stepped down from the stairs at the back door. I was walking very slowly.
Remember I was only about four years old. I had no understanding of my new surroundings.
I could not recognize or understand all the objects around me.
I do remember that all these hazards littering this compound made it dangerous to walk around. Not unlike a junkyard.
All of a sudden I got the most horrific site I have ever seen in my life. Right there,
right in front of me was this huge powerful black Pit-bull dog charging at me while viciously barking and frothing at the mouth.
The dog was taller than me. This was the very first time in my life that I had ever seen an animal or a dog for that matter.
So far my whole life had been one locked up isolation after another. I FROZE in complete terror.
This was the single most scariest experience of my life.
The dog came to a sudden stop only inches from me.
He was right there in front of me barking and wanting to kill me. He saw me as an intruder in his lonely isolated turf.
I was screaming the loudest I have ever screamed in my life.
I was paralyzed with fear. I could not move and I could not stop screaming as this big powerful black dog would not stop barking and trying to reach me.
He was at the end of his chain. It looked like he was trying to break the chain.
He kept charging and being stopped by the chain right there less than a foot in front of me. I could not move.
As I was not familiar with my surroundings and there was debris all around me, blocking my movement.
I just stayed there paralyzed with fear and screaming as loud as humanly possible.
Till this day I can never forget just how piercingly loud I was screaming. I remember my ears hurting from the sheer volume of my voice.
While screaming I panned around to see my surrounding. I continued to scream non stop.
Way up far away on the third floor I saw an old woman look at me. She said nothing and did not show any signs of concern.
Many more minutes passed while I continued to scream. I continued looking around while screaming.
I looked at the back door from where I came. No one came to my aid. They surely could hear me.
I continued to scream. I remember my throat hurting.
I saw that old woman come to the window again. She disappeared again.
I was still paralyzed with fear. I could not move.
I continued to scream as this huge dog did not stop barking and trying to attack me.
I saw that old gray haired woman come to the window again.
This time she looked very concerned and saw the big vicious dog in front of me.
Next thing I remember is what looked like a police officer, grab my hand. He looked at the dog and he even became scared of this huge dog.
I stepped through that back door into the darkness. For there was no open door at the end lighting my way.
My next memory is sitting beside this huge wooden office desk.
In this huge room with row after row of wooden office desks.
There had to of been a hundred desks. Or more. Like in Orwell’s Movie 1984
There were row after row of huge windows from ceiling to floor. It was around two i the morning.
There was a children’s aid woman at the desk.
The woman looked at me like I was just a piece of trash. She was really mad at me. She did not like being there. And told me so.
She was frantically making calls to find a place for me to go. She yelled at me that no one wanted me.
That I was just a piece of human trash. This is “The Snowball Effect” that I am writing about.
Can you imagine being four years old and having no home and no one in the world to share love with and looking at this so
called good Christian woman saying these things to you.. A personal comment here.
I believe that the dog incident was deliberately set up by the Catholic authorities to have me die in that dog pound.
I truly believe that they wanted to kill me off. And that would of taken care of covering up what happened to me and all the other little boys at the orphanage..
That nun really loved foundling little boys in that janitors closet…
The years of the fifties and early sixties of child abuses in Quebec, became known as the Duplessi Years..Named such after the Quebec Premier of the time.
Several years ago a mass grave of over 2000 murdered little boys was accidentally dug up on the former property of where the orphanage had been located.
The mass grave was dug up when work was being done to expand the parking lot of the public liquor store now on the property.
The orphanage had been torn down due to public outrage, when many of the horrific abuses that occurred at the orphanage became publicly known.
The government then had to admit that boys must of suffered abuses at this orphanage.
So the government then offered a limited time lump sum settlement payment of twenty thousand dollars to all former residents of the Catholic Orphanage.
After which time no further claims or court cases would ever be permitted.
I contacted the temporary office that was set up in Montreal and was advised that I needed to come to Montreal to pick up my compensation check. I never accepted their blood money.. The case was then effectively reburied along with those two thousand little boys bones for ever to be forgotten..
As usual the NWO uses the power of their money to take care of its evil affairs..
Please watch this two hour documentary by Priest from British Columbia about the abuses also inflicted on the native peoples of Canada by the Church.
UNREPENTANT: Canada’s Genocide
Kevin Annett and Canada’s Genocide”
This documentary reveals Canada’s darkest secret – the deliberate extermination of indigenous peoples and the theft of their land under the guise of religion.
This never before told history as seen through the eyes of this former minister (Kevin Annett) who blew the whistle on his own church, after he learned of
thousands of murders in its Indian Residential Schools. It’s an excellent film.
“A Truth Soldier” http://danieltowsey.livejournal.com/11047.html
Another Catholic Murder Scandal: 50,000 Native Canadian Children were killed with Vatican approval,
Pope Caught Red Handed With Written Cover-up
The Childrens Aid CORPORATION OF ABUSE