~ Totaro Must Go ~
WHERE DID YOU GO TO
In today’s Intell article regarding the death of Curtis Lee Smith (click here), District Attorney Donald Totaro is quoted as follows:
“The Taser was used both inside and outside. In each case, it had no effect on Mr. Smith whasoever.”
Excuse me, Mr. District Attorney, it killed him.
The article also states the following:
“It took about four minutes for the police and parole agents to handcuff Smith. They placed him in the back seat of a New Holland police cruiser. While in the vehicle, Smith struck his head several times against a door window. The officers removed Smith from the vehicle and again shocked him with the Taser.”
Excuse me, Mr. District Attorney, that is unnecessary force.
Please see the box directly below for information regarding James Sneddon, a book author who died on September 21, 2005 after “a struggle with seven West Hempfield Township and Columbia Borough police officers.” There will be much more tomorrow.
~ The Ultimate Price ~
“WRONG PLACE AT THE
(From www.jamessneddon.com )
A novel about fear and anger… love and courage… comforting lies… unsettling truth… The Tolltaker is coming. The ultimate price of passage is due. Confront your greatest fears. The truth will never feel the same.
Writing is supposed to be fun.
(From www.jamessneddon.com )
When I was ten I used to write. It was fun. I invented my own version of Encyclopedia Brown and wrote a book of mini-mysteries.
It wasn’t enough. So I invented an entire town on the shore of Lake Tahoe and wrote about a group of boys who always seemed to find themselves in the midst of dramatic controversy.
Oh, they weren’t bad kids. They just sort of ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. I even drew a map of the town. I named the streets, stores, parks, schools, people…
I’ve never been within 1000 miles of Nevada, but I made up everything and I reveled in it.
When I was 14 I had a dog. I named him Scamp after the Disney character. We used to play games. He licked my face, made me laugh…
One night a car hit him. He didn’t die right away. I scooped him up and took him home and held him until he did. Cried like a baby.
I started a novel in remembrance of him. I didn’t know much about him before I owned him, but it didn’t matter. I could just make that part of his life up.
Never did finish that novel. Somewhere between the age of 5 and 38 I forgot about how much I loved to write.
Never forgot how much I loved the dog, though.
AGE OF TEN
“James Sneddon grew up in Northeast Philadelphia and began writing short stories at the age of ten. James currently lives in South-central Pennsylvania where he is working on his next novel.”
Provided today by Thorndike Press. This is the only information they have in his biography. The woman I spoke with was not aware that James Sneddon was dead.
“ONE NEAT PACKAGE”
(Part of a review of The Tolltaker by Harriet Klausner of reviewcentre. You can buy the book there at http://www.reviewcentre.com/review118162.html or for more money at Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1594141460/sr=8-1/qid=1146089601/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-0950456-4955937?%5Fencoding=UTF8 )
“The scenes in the tunnel will remind readers of Stephen King’s IT but THE TOLLTAKER also finds his way into Bobby’s dreams. This allows him to become closer to his mother when he wakes up screaming from the horrific nightmare. The protagonist, besieged and beleaguered from all sides has an inner strength that allows him to protect his friend from harm. James Sneddon has written an exciting horror novel and a coming of age story in one neat package.”
PLEASE CHECK BACK TOMORROW.