Copyright 2001 - 2020 James Thomas Westbrook --- All Rights Reserved --- The author exercises any and all rights of exclusivity he is lawfully entitled to pursuant U.S. Copyright Law as a literary property. --- "1979" is a copyrighted non-fiction book technically speaking, and was first registered with the U.S. Copyright Office on December 31st 2001. ---- The author also exercises any and all copyright protection he is entitled to as a graphic artist,regarding the copyrighted photo art montages included thereon each and every one of the title pages of Parts 1 through 13 as well as the various Sub-Parts contained in Parts 1 through 13 of "1979". This also applies to the Epilogue to it. --- Any and all inquiries regarding "1979"/1979westbrook.com may be submitted to me by e-mail at: 79westbrook@protonmail.com or Westbrook79@Yandex.Com

Part 1 -- Sub Part 2
"1979" / 1979westbrook.com

Part 1 Sub Pt 2 -- March 22, 1979 -- My return home to West Slope after work. Evening at West Slope thinking about my recurring dream since mid-March '79

Beware The Ides of March 1979
My Recurring Dream Set At The Portland Hilton
Presidential Suite Since Mid March 1979 --- My Fingerprints Left There During A 'Tour'
This Just After Starting Work At The Hilton In Mid February 1979

The Recurring Dream Possibly The Result Of A Premonition ? This More Likely The Result Of All The CIA MK-ULTRA Type Drug-Hypno-Sleep Programming I Had Been Subjected To During The Summer Of 1978 In Mount Shasta, Northern Cal --- The Murder of The One Yreka Cop I Knew 'Bo' Hittson On Weekend Night I Was In Yreka --- The Car Crash Death Sheriff's Deputy Hennessey And Murder Of The 'Log Cabin' Bar In Yreka Only Days Apart From Each Other And 'Bo's Murder

The Weekend Trip I Took To The Oregon Coast With Kendra In February 1979 But Don't Remember Much Of May Have Been Another Opportunity --- My Suspicion Of The Episodically Timed Tour Of The Hilton Presidential Suite Only Days After I Started Work As A Painter --- The That My Work Supervisor 'Russ' Nervously Responded When He Gave Me That Implausibly Lame Excuse For The Tour Of The Presidential Suite Where Objects d' Art Were Passed Round Leaving My Finger Prints On Them As Well As The Railing Inside An Ante Room


A Omen

A sign that foretells events

Sub Part 2 of Part 1 -- describes my thoughts in the afternoon following that bizarre late morning coincidental incident at the Portland Hilton on March 22, 1979 as I went through my work routine and started thinking about the recurring dream that disturbed my sleep for about a week since mid- March, 'The Ides of March' ironically enough.

This recurring dream also entered my conscious mind, in my waking hours in the days that followed the dream's initial appearance mid-March of 1979, whereby this recurring dream that haunted my sleep and had now invaded my thoughts as I went through my work day and time off at my apartment in West Slope -- now seemed more like a terrifying premonition of evil, apparently was as evidenced by the scary and bizarre elevator incident at the Portland Hilton on March 22, 1979, over which I was very nearly attacked and murdered.

It was in the evening of Thursday March 22, 1979 that I thought about the then rather bizarre and near fatal elevator incident at the Portland Hilton on the way back from morning break, there at my apartment in West Slope, near Portland which I shared with my teenage girlfriend Kendra, that I had time to reflect on the then recent events during the Summer and Fall of 1978.

I didn't trust Kendra as I sat there in the small living smoking cigarettes and 'weed' thinking about my situation in Portland and what I should do next. I couldn't help thinking about the recurring dream that I had been having for about a week or so and had now in recent days, had become a waking dream' as well.

The dream wasn't terribly complicated at least as far as dreams go, but I found it terrifying nonetheless in spite of the fact that there wasn't really anything apparently frightening about it in and of itself, except for my emotional reactions of dread and horror to a sequence of events which seemed pretty innocuous and somewhat ordinary at least as far as dreams go.

This dream was apparently rooted there in an actual event that took place only a few weeks or so before at the Portland Hilton only days after I stated work there in mid-February of 1979.

This was when our section supervisor Russ, had some of the men in the painting crews under him all head up to the Presidential Suite of the Portland Hilton where we were all admitted through the double-door entry to an ante-room, modestly decorated in contemporary furniture to look like an exceptionally ordinary livingroom that one might find in practically any middle class home in any U.S. city at that time in 1979.

There were about 15 or more painters during our paint crew's little visit to this living room like ante room in what must have been late February of 1979 and Russ spoke to us all and little items of bric-a-brac where passed around to us from hand to hand which we all did obligingly and politely, with ever so slightly puzzled expressions on our faces.

IAs I shot quick glances around the room I noticed a couple of painters were studying my reaction just as closely as I was studying theirs and everyone else who was then present. -- I then turned my attention to Russ and asked him just why it was that we were all being treated to this little tour of what looked like a waiting room at the Presidential Suite.

Russ replied was caught off guard and gave me some lame ass reply about how they liked to show the employees to different and interesting locations there at the Portland Hilton, which made the two or three other painters who were checking me out take on a look of stoney silence and suspicion.

The whole tour of that tiny inconsequential corner of the giant sized President Suite took no more than a seven or eight minutes and we were all led back a few floors in order to resume our various work assignments, painting doors, walls and ceilings inside the hotel rooms at the Portland Hilton. r

This so called 'tour' of the Presidential Suite seemed to peak my curiosity and set off the silent alarms inside my body as well as my head and as I worked all by myself in rooms near those of my co-workers I had time to think about it the rest of the day. The only thing that I could see that was accomplished was that I and all the other painters went there, now knew where the Presidential Suite was located, whereas we hadn't before and that our fingerprints had been left all over a hand rail and some bric-a-brac items that were passed around for us to handle.

I had already surmised that the Portland Hilton was the place where the 'Plans For Me Up North' were to take place from the very moment that FBI informants O'Brien and Benny informed me of the job opening there in early February 1979, so naturally the whole 'tour' thing was just a 'scam' to place my fingerprints there at railing and bric-a-brac there at the Presidential Suite.




As I sat there in my apartment in West Slope near Portland, on the evening and night of March 22, 1979, I repeatedly went over the details of the simple chain of events that resulted in the incident at the Portland Hilton earlier that day, which set off a chain of events that I could never have imagined, but which I them also realized was to change my life forever, whereas the conspiratorial 'cat' was now 'out of the bag' at the Portland Hilton where I then worked took the game to a whole new level of complexity and danger.

It was there at the end of morning break, therein the the employee commissary on one of the sub-levels where I ate breakfast, that I strolled over to the cigarette machine to buy a pack of 'Camel Lights' only to find that the machine was out of my brand and being in a hurry to get back to work on one of the upper floors, I then raced to some of the other sub-levels there at the Portland Hilton only to find that the cigarette machines there were out of 'Camel Lights' as well.

We were not allowed to smoke as we worked there in the hotel rooms we were painting, so If I didn't smoke now I would have to wait until before I would be able to have a cigarette.

I found this unaccepatable whereas my nicotine craving for a 'Camel Light' prompted me to break the company rules by going into to the main lobby of the Hilton there in my painter's whites, where I found a machine near the hotel entrance that had my brand in stock, and I quickly opened the pack and lit up a smoke as I cautiously panned round the hotel lobby for supervisors and such.

I then decided that it might be safer to take a hotel guest elevator back to work as I was running a bit late and as I wanted to avoid my supervisors who mostly took the service elevators that I and many of the other employees all used. -- I went over the bank of guest elevators
and passed a few rides up as I didn't want to ride with the hotel guests, especially since I was also smoking a cigarette at the time and I wasn't about to put it out.

Time was ticking and when the doors to one elevator car opened with two tall men in uniforms wearing overstuffed tool pouches I decided that I would just have to take the ride to the upper floors with them and it was there that I zero'd in on the 'Otis' patches sewn on the front of their work shirts and then shot a glance down to the metal plate at the center of the floor of the elevator that read 'Otis' much to my relief as these guys weren't working for the Portland Hilton, they worked for the Otis Elevator Company and were apparently there to perform so kind maintenance and or repairs.

What happened next is best described in the montage below and my already somewhat strained life took a sharp turn into the fucking 'Twilight Zone' for fucking ever.




The occurrence, within a short space of time, of two or more meaningfully related events and without any apparent causal connection between them. Coincidences are sometimes bizarre and extraordinarily improbable. See also synchronicity.

Psychokinesis (PK)
The paranormal influence of the mind on physical events and processes.

I had to wonder what an insurance actuary might place the odds of such unbelievably rare reunion between the L.A. Cop I knew and myself would have been, all the more so with the nearly eight year time span and eight hundred mile distance since we saw each other last in a classroom at Citrus College in Glendora, California on that early afternoon of May 25, 1971 ?


Unlike Calpurnia, I didn't have any 'premonitions' about the firey, bizarre and bloody events that were all about to take place during the the week leading up to and the frey and bloody weekend at 'Callahan Days' from July 20, 1975 through July 26, 1975.

These were to be my FBI informant 'Girlfreind' Karen's spontaneous combustion at 'Callahan Days' '75, and Karen's inadvertent, pain, drug and alcohol induced revelations of the 'Plans For Me Up North' at the home of a friend of mine near Callahan.

This was followed by our return the 'Callahan Days' rock and blue grass festival where Karen and her friend Portland Kathy led me to a darkend crowded and noisey corner of the Callahan festival where Greg was shoved out at me from the darkness yelling: "Jim Help ! Thery're trying to kill me !" before he collapsed in my arms in bloody mess, from the dozen or more bloody stab wounds to his back. -- It was like a scene out of a modern day, Satanic like version of Julius Caeser set in July 1975 .

Part 4 Sub Part 7 of "1979"/1979westbrook.com covers that period of time from July 20, 1975 through July 26, 1975.



I was already in the crosshairs of the CIA, FBI, State and local police and sheriffs by the time I started high school in September 1967.
My 'friend' Greg Downard was installed there in my Seventh Grade Class at Center middle school in June 1966, thereas a 'plant' when I was only 13 years old. --
Greg was repeatedly 'installed' in my life in late July of 1971 and Memorial Day holiday weekend in May 1975 and later there in October 1976 and April 1977.

In the Spring of 1966 my 7th Grade teacher Mrs Fiumus, was replaced by a gent who called himself Mr. Weaver. Weaver looked, acted and smelled like a cop or some kind of 'Fed' to me.

My next door neighbor at the house I grew up at in Covina since the Fall of 1957, was an L.A. Sheriffs Deputy who worked out of the San Dimas Sub Station and one of his son's was a friend of mine who invited me along to picnic that the L.A. Sheriffs were having at San Dimas Park only a year or two before in the mid 1960's. -- Some of the cops had families and others did not.

I watched the cops at play with their friends and family and picked up on the looks and vibes of the 'Fuzz' there drinking beer and horsing around.-- The father of a kid I knew and who just a few houses away on Lark Ellen Ave. was an LAPD Sergeant and a part time pilot as well.

Part 3 of "1979" is comprised of 8 separate Sub Parts and covers that period of time from mid to late 1970 on through to August 30, 1974. the day before I left I left my then home in Covina on the street I grew up in to hitch hike north to my new home in Northern California about 20 miles south of the Oregon border and about 7 miles east of Interstate 5.


Throughout the evening and night of March 22, 1979 there at the apartment in West Slope that I shared with my girlfriend, yet another FBI informant, I then recall how I must have been covertly subjected to a number of sleep-hypno mind control sessions, then only 7 months before during the Summer of '78 I spent working and living in Nothern California.

I then had to wonder if during this Summer '78 of mind control, mysteries and murders there, if all this hadn't possibly created some unintended side effects during that time when I was subjected to mind control sessions and whilst I was subliminating what I knew and suspected about the murders and deaths then taking place during my stay there.

Was it possible that my subconcious was trying to warn my concious mind and in the process there of set off a kind of radar powered by some kind of psychokinesis I wasn't aware of and which I really didn't believe in, this in spite of a number of what might be best described under the heading of parapsychological phenomena.

In my situation I had consider if it was possible that this whole one in a million long shot chance meeting between the L.A. Cop I knew and myself at the Portland Hilton could have rigged externally somehow by other government or military intel agencies that wanted to scare me off of what had by that time in my life, had in effect become something very much like an intelligence mission that I had walked into with eyes wide open to only the month before in February 1979.

I had long since had knowledge of since the events at 'Callahan Days' in Northern California since July 25-26, 1975 when the 'Plans For Me Up North' were inadvertantly revealed to me one night at my friend Bob' place near Callahan, and Greg was nearly stabbed to death over it the next night there at 'Callahan Days' which as far as I was concerend was a confimation written in Greg's blood when he fell into my arms yelling"
'Help Jim ! They're trying to
kill me !' ( ((( Please refer to montage tableau at"1979" / 1979Visions.Com Part 4 Sub Part 7.) s m

The Montage Art Of "1979" /1979westbrook.com

The more I thought about it, it seemed all the more impossible that I could have been have been somehow steered around the Portland Hilton and on into the elevator incident there. -- I figured I was flying solo anyway or was I ? Were there elements in the government that were out to help me as well as those that were most apparently out to get me ?

Then there was the elaborately arranged manner in which I was informed of the death of a U.S. Secret Service Agent during the May 1973 Memorial Day Weekend whereby my reaction were closely watched and monitored. ((Please refer to Part 3 Sub Part 6 of "1979" / 1979westbrook.com )


Part 9 Sub Part 3 of "1979"/1979westbrook.com covers that period of time from August 1, 1978 -- August 27, 1978.


Part 9 Sub Part 4 of "1979"/1979westbrook.com covers that period of time from August 28, 1978 -- September 3, 1978.

By March 21, 1979, the day before the March 22nd incident at the Portland Hilton, the series of sinister and surreptitious events that had taken place in around Portland during that six and a half month time period since my return there on September 4, 1978 were more than enough to give anybody in their right mind nightmares galore, but not me, I guess I was under some kind of hypno-programing all that time.

It was this plus the fact that I was obsessed at getting to the root of this conspiracy which had dogged my heels since 1974 and even before that with the murder of my freind 'Spud' Helberg in July 1971.

This being the case I have decided to display the following montages covering that 6 month plus period of time from September '78 through March 21, '79 there in chronological order so that you may better judge what was going through my mind, or should I say mind control on the night of March 22, 1979.

The Montage Art Of "1979" /1979westbrook.com


Part 10 Sub Pt 1 covers that time period from September 4, 1978 through September 30, 1978


Part 10 Sub Pt 2 covers that time period from October 1, 1978 through October 31, 1978


Part 10 Sub Pt 3 covers that time period from November 1, 1978 through November 30, 1978


Part 10 Sub Pt 4 covers that time period from December 1, 1978 through December 31, 1978


Part 10 Sub Pt 5 covers that time period from January 1, 1979 through January 31, 1979


Part 10 Sub Pt 6 covers that time period from February 1, 1979 through February 28, 1979

Part 10 Sub Pt 7 covers that time period from March 1, 1978 through March 21, 1979


I am nothing in the way of a clairvoyant myself, with the possible exception of the recurring dream I that I kept having there at my apartment in West Slope nights in mid March 1979 and which later even entered my waking hours there at the Portland Hilton as I went through my daily work routine up until the day before the elevator incident detailed in Part 1 Sub Part 1 of "1979".

Nonetheless I thought it both interesting and ironic to note that Edgar Cayce, once one of the most famous clairvoyants in the world was born in Christian County, Kentucky in March 18, 1977 only a few miles from where I was born that slice of Christian County there at the U.S. Army Hospital inside Fort Campbell which extend to four counties located in Kentucky and Tennessee.

Here are a few items from the web that I have assembled about the reknowned psychic Cayce which you may or may not find interesting.
As for myself I have only read a little about the clairvoyant on the internet and haven't read any of his books thus far, though I may in the future, depending my time and available resources in the future.



According to my oldest Sister Marylee who was five years old at the time, my Father Captain James T. Westbrook died in a train station en route to an airport near Tokyo, there with Mother who was pregnant with me and my other older Sister, who was then only two and a half.
He was bringing his family 'Stateside' to live in his home town Nashville, Tennessee when he died in February 1953.

Before her death in June of 2004 Marylee informed that she found out from my mother that the Army had discouraged my father from bringing his family to the U.S. and after years of 'red tape' and other bureaucratic 'B.S.' he finally managed to get clearance to bring us all to Nashville
which my mother eventually did some months after my dad's death.

Below is a photo of the house at 2821 Erica Place in the Berry Hills area of Nashville where my family and I lived until we flew out from Nashville to Los Angeles in the Summer of 1957, whereby we eventually settled therein Covina, a suburb about 20 miles east of L.A.

The place was much more rural in 1957 than the 2015 photo shown here with what looks like a relatively new 3 story office building next door, although the house were Mrs. Williams lived next door looks very much the same as it did when I last saw it in 1957.