Recently my husband Jim and I went to the beach for a week. One of his buddies, the one I cannot stand because he was stringing along some poor desperate woman online with promises of marriage, kept trying to get us to cancel the trip. I wasn't about to cancel because my week earlier at the beach had been somewhat miserable because of the fact that we had to stay out of the water because of the high bacterial levels and the fact that I was traveling with a friend who could not be persuaded to hit the Chrysler Museum or the Cape Henry Lighthouse or anything that wasn't shopping. Shopping bores me and I'm no longer a charismatic Christian like her. The trip was pretty miserable on a couple different levels even if I love her.
Jim's buddy, Mr. Love 'Em Online, was not understanding I was not going to cancel this trip even if the weather report called for rain the entire time. First, I had enough hotel room points that we were staying for free in a suite with a jacuzzi right in the room and I needed to get away.
When he messaged me demanding we cancel I shrugged and ignored him before telling a couple of friends 'If he thinks rain is going to keep me out of ocean he does not know me very well, does he?' Seriously, you're going to be getting wet when you get in the surf what's a little getting wet on the stroll across the sand from the hotel?
Jim knows me. He knew I wouldn't want to cancel, that I would swim in a raining ocean, that I would body surf in the storm-tossed waves. He knows I need my ocean time every summer.
I no longer surf since I've been sick with asthma these last ten years. My balance is terrible so I content myself with a short body riding laying on the board or body surfing. I wish I was young and strong enough again to surf properly. This trip the waves were close to ten feet tall right where they were breaking at the second set of breakers out. Would have been an incredible trip.
We had an excellent time, rain or shine, and yes indeed I did swim and body surf in the rain. Jim knows I'm serious about that. He's said he can tell just how serious I am about my ocean time based on what I pack. Rash guard shirts, board shorts or tank suits? Serious. Not to be deterred.
Not everyone around me understands my focus, my passion or my stubborn full speed ahead and damn the possible torpedoes. It's how I live my life.
That holds true with working on No Longer Quivering too. I can get obsessional about certain subjects and follow them down until I've had enough.
Clearly whoever it is in law enforcement that keeps putting out those statuses on the Carol Ann Cole Facebook page does not realize my depth of focus and stubborn nature. Because every week when I write about the case and clearly state I'm speculating on what may have happened they go way way out of their way to pretend I'm somehow trying to exploit the situation and have no information.
The information I have is a thick sheath of documents, many from the state of Louisiana archives, documents and information from other legitimate sources and interviews with people involved that I've been able to verify much of what they are saying with legal documents. Anyone, and I state again, ANYONE with the stubborn drive to dig these things out has access to the exact same things I do. It's not that hard.
I have to wonder why me writing about this subject seems to be so threatening to those investigating the case. It just makes me wonder what they are hiding. As I have stated before I hope to bring enough attention to the case that someone actually solves it. I'm not going to solve it, I'm merely looking at the information available.
Others have told me that they've received 'internet cease and desist' online messages from law enforcement. Which makes me laugh. A legal cease and desist is something that would come through law enforcement channels and be served either by the local cop shop or a process server and be a court order signed by a judge. Not a note on the internet. Powerless. Stupid.
Hear this. I am stubborn. I am not going to stop writing about the unjust murder of poor Carol Ann Cole merely because I'm making someone uncomfortable. I'm not exposing any information that is 'secret', I'm not 'endangering the case'. I'm looking at the possibilities.
I am not stopping. Nor should you stop looking to solve this.
I shouldn't even have to explain myself. After all, I did make three attempts to talk to law enforcement about this case during the summer when I was compiling information and doing my research. I was rebuffed, no one would talk. Too late now.