..Meeting Charlie Pride..

Warning: this document is intended for persons over the age of eighteen years of age only and does contain mental and subconscious triggers for those who have suffered from the Central Intelligence Agency’s Mk-Ultra Trauma Based Mind Control Projects.

This page is about being taken to meet Charlie Pride in Branson Missouri while my cousin and I were on a trip back east with our grandparents in the summer of 1993. After the show, my cousin and I were taken backstage and abused by this man as well as having him test our voices for use in the Country Music Industry. Charlie Pride would also use the switchblade that Byrd had given to me through my uncle and CIA handler a couple of weeks prior to this event to retrieve the message that had been programmed into me by my uncle and another man involved with the project.

It was late afternoon when we arrived in Branson, Missouri and it was a hot and muggy summer day. It was June of the year 1993 A.D.. The town of Branson was not big; not like a city such as St. Louise, but rather was smaller in size with lots of hotels, motels and concert/show houses; the town itself seemed to be built around the Country Music Industry. My grandparents had reserved a room there in town at an older style motel composed of single-story units and we checked into our room and got ready for the show that evening.  We had not had dinner yet and I was hungry; we were all hungry, but my grandparents told us that we would have to wait to get something to eat until after the show. Getting ready I got dressed into a button up shirt, cargo pant shorts, and a pair of black converse sneakers; I put the switch blade that my uncle had given to me at his house in Ketchum several days prior during a previous programming session in my left side cargo shorts pocket so that I would have it with me as I had been instructed to do. The act of putting the knife in my pocket was a subconscious driver and my conscious mind perceived that it was simply best to always have a weapon on me. We drove over to the show house where Charlie would be playing that evening and found a spot to park the van in the parking lot. The parking lot itself was rather large with lots of room for parking so my grandfather had no trouble with finding a spot to park. We all got out of the van and stepped into the hot summer afternoon there in Branson.

It was late afternoon/early evening, and the sun was still hot in the sky, but was nonetheless heading to its resting place for the evening as we walked across the parking lot to the front entry doors of the concert hall. My cousin and I both opened the show house doors for our grandparents. There were some other elderly people who were entering the building just behind us so my cousin and I held the doors for some of the other people coming to see the show; I can remember that there was lots of older people going to see the show and very few young people were in attendance. The elderly people were very nice and told us how nice of young men we were for holding the door for them. We entered the building which was airconditioned and much cooler than the outside world. There was a place there in the front area of the building where people could purchase tickets for the show or get a photograph of Charlie Pride to have signed after the show. Our grandfather had obtained the tickets to the show before we had left Idaho, so we did not need to buy tickets, but our grandparents said that they wanted each of us to have one of the souvenir pictures of Charlie Pride so that we could get his autograph. Our grandfather bought my cousin and I each one of the Charlie Pride pictures which were not cheap and cost about twenty dollars each to which my grandfather complained about the price and the expense of them, but it had been his idea to get them in the first place and they seemed more important to him and my grandmother than to my cousin and I. We entered the concert hall and found seats on the left side facing the stage toward the center of the room. The show house was a light hum of excitement from all of the people sitting and talking quietly amongst themselves before the show. When the show began most of the lights in the room went out and/or focused on the stage area. The curtains opened and Charlie and his band started performing their brand of Country Western style hits for all the folks there in the crowd.

The show was ok, but at that time I was not a big Country Music fan and found his music to be somewhat mundane and boring, but everyone else there in the show house seemed to be enjoying it. About halfway into the show my grandfather told me that I should get a picture of Charlie up on stage with my small 35mm camera. I had it with me but I was a shy person and he had to coax me into doing it. Finally I stood up and made my way to the Center of the seating area to get a good picture of him from there in the crowd.  I turned my flash off so that I did not disrupt the show but when I was finally in place to get my picture and was ready the song had ended; now I was just in the middle of the isle and felt like everyone was looking at me. There was a nice older couple there with a middle aged woman that had an empty seat at the end of the isle and they told me that I could sit in it until the next song started so that I could get my picture. I sat down with them there and we talked for a short time while we waited for the next song to start. The band started up the next song and I said goodbye to the nice folks and I went back to the center of the walking area and got a picture of Charlie Pride while he was singing on stage. I then went and sat down again with my grandparents and cousin. When Charlie and the band had finished with the song, Charlie looked over toward U.S. sitting there in the crowd and he said into the microphone that the young man who had just taken a picture of him did not have his flash on, and he said that I might want to try getting another shot, but this time I should turn my flash on so that I could get a better picture. This all really put me on the spot there in the crowd and those sitting close to U.S. knew he was talking to me, but no one pointed me out. The whole thing made me feel nervous and I sank down into my chair and wanted to hide. I never got up to get another picture of him, and the picture that I did get has long been lost to time.

He finished playing his show and finally the curtains closed, and all the lights came back on in the room. There were tables set up on the left side edge of the room where the musicians and Charlie Pride would be signing autographs and people began to stand up and move in that direction as well as out of the theater. After a few moments we all stood up and moved over to the autographs line so that my cousin and I could get the pictures that our grandfather had purchased, autographed by Charlie and the other members of the band. The line was not too long, and the band came out to sign and give their autographs, but Charlie himself did not emerge from backstage to sign the pictures. People in the line started to ask where Charlie was because they all wanted and expected his autograph but were told that Charlie was backstage and would not be coming out that evening for the signing. This made my grandfather angry when he heard that Charlie was not going to be signing pictures because he had purchased my cousin and I both a picture specifically for that purpose, or so I thought at that time. My grandfather started to raise a fuss in the crowd which was embarrassing for me being an impressionable teenager as I was. I moved through the autographs line and I got a couple of signatures from other members of the band before a younger woman emerged from the back-stage area and approached my grandparents. She addressed them and said, “are there some children who want to meet Charlie, I can take them backstage to meet him if you would like?” My grandfather looked at my cousin and I and said, “do you boys want to go backstage and meet Charlie?” I did not say it but, “no” I did not want to go and meet Charlie, but all I could say was ok. My grandma and grandfather told my cousin and I that they would sit down there in the seating area and wait for U.S. while we both went backstage to meet him with the young woman. This was all very frightening, but my cousin and I had no choice in the matter being CIA mind slaves.

The young woman took my cousin and I both by the hand and lead us to the curtain leading backstage to where Charlie was waiting for U.S.. My cousin took her by the left hand, and I took her right. I can remember the guitarist from the band standing behind the signing table as we passed him heading backstage with the woman and he looked at me with a wry smile that said that I would not enjoy meeting the man backstage. But the young woman was beautiful; she was in her early twenties and was thin and had light brown hair that was cut straight below the shoulders with her bangs cut flat across the top of her eyes; for a young teenage male, it was exhilarating to be holding her hand and I was jealous of my cousin as he held her other hand. When we got to the curtain she let go of my hand and she pulled the curtain back and we all three passed through into the darker area behind the stage. Once we were beyond this threshold, she took my hand again and she led U.S. to a door with a sign that said, “Private”. The woman stopped in front of the door and she said to my cousin and me, “Are you boys ready to “Go Over the Rainbow”? When she said this everything changed, and she no longer held the beauty she had only moments before; now she seemed cruel and dishonest; evil even. She said, “your journey lies behind this door”, and she asked which of U.S. was going to open the door to “our future”. Being the eldest there with my younger cousin, I knew that it was my responsibility to open the door, so I reached out and turning the knob I opened the door to the Private room.

The door swung wide, and we could see Charlie there in his room sitting at a desk that was on the wall at our left side as we were facing him. It was the typical desk set up that one would expect from a musician’s backstage room, with a desk/table against the wall and a mirror with lights all around it. He was working on something there at the desk and had some paper out and was busy writing something. When the door opened, he looked up at U.S. and did not say anything, but the woman told him that she had brought him some children who were here to see him and wanted to meet him. She led my cousin and I into the room and Charlie told the woman to leave U.S. with him and he would be done with his work momentarily and would take some time to talk with U.S. then. The woman nodded her understanding and turning she left my cousin and I standing there by the door; she closed the door behind herself as she left, and we were both left in the room alone with this man. This was all very terrifying and seemed wrong to me, but the triggers had begun the process of moving me deeper into another personality base for the trauma that was about to unfold there in the room.

My cousin and I stood at attention for a couple of minutes while Charlie finished up something there at the desk that seemed to be important to him as he was engrossed in his work. In that time, I observed the room and began to take in the details of my surroundings. The room was not large, but it was also not small. It was designed and built in an L-shaped fashion with a section of the room being extended to my right as I faced Charlie at his desk. This extension was at the opposite side of the room from where I was standing and was filled with different costumes and outfits for use by performers there at the show house. Directly to my right there was a closet for the performer’s personal clothes and items. Behind Charlie and directly to our front was a lounge area that was filled with plush red chairs and large red pillows. All of this I observed while Charlie finished up his work at the desk.

When Charlie had finished with his writing, he sat up and put his pen down and he addressed my cousin and I. He said, “so you boys have come to see me” as he stood up and approached U.S.. He walked up to U.S. and looking at me he said, “Now, you must be J.R., I have heard a lot about you.” Then looking at my cousin he told him that he had heard alot about him as well. Looking at me again he said, “I understand that you have something that you would like to talk to me about. Did you bring the key to your mind so that you might share it with me?” Reaching down into my left side cargo shorts pocket I pulled out the green handled switch blade that I had put there earlier that afternoon and I handed it to Charlie. He told me to take my shirt off, but he was not specific enough in his use of words and both my cousin and I began removing our shirts. Charlie laughed at my cousin and told him, “No, not you; not yet”. My cousin put his shirt back on and I finished taking mine off and Charlie told me to put it on the floor to my right in front of the closet. My cousin and I both still had our pictures for him to autograph and I put it down on the floor by my shirt. After this I stood again at attention and Charlie reached up and placing his finger under the non-sticky part of the band aid on my chest, he pulled it off and crumpled it up and threw it in the trash. I found it strange how he just touched the bloody bandage as though he did not mind it at all. Next, he opened the knife blade with a flick of the button, “FFflickkk” and holding it perpendicular to my chest he aimed the tip of the blade directly at the spot and the same wound that my uncle and Kyle had made when I was in Ketchum some days earlier. I could see out of the corner of my eye, just as this was about to happen my younger cousin looking straight ahead in a state of complete horror at what was about to happen.

Charlie stuck the tip of the blade into my chest causing me to move deeper into yet another state of consciousness and he retrieved the message that had been installed there by my uncle and Kyle days before. I could tell that Charlie was accustomed to this practice as he was not as nervous as my uncle had been nor was he as cruel with the blade; rather he followed a process that he seemed to be well familiar with in these matters. I told him that we were two birds who had flown from the nest and we would like it if he would test our voices for use by the Big Byrd. Charlie knew what this meant. I also told him that my cousin and I had never known a black man before. At the end of the message, I told Charlie that he was not to be easy on the kid as this is what my uncle had told me to tell him. After he had retrieved the information, he needed from me Charlie pulled the tip of the blade from my chest and he cleaned the tip of the blade with a white cloth similar to that which my uncle and Kyle had used before, but he did not give it to me to clean the blood from myself. Rather he told me to remove the rest of my clothes at which point, he also told my cousin to remove his clothing as well. When he did this, he told me not to get any of the blood on my shorts or underwear; Charlie liked the blood. He also told U.S. that we could leave our socks on.

My cousin and I were molested and anally raped by Charlie Pride there in the room, which is an event that I would prefer not to describe in detail; he is a disgusting and satanic individual and he traumatized both of U.S. thoroughly through sexual abuse. When he had finished raping and molesting my cousin and I Charlie helped me to clean up the blood that I had on me from the wound in my chest and we put a bandage back over it. Charlie helped me with this, and he had some antibiotic ointment which he said was important to apply; he seemed to enjoy blood and wounds to the human body.

Charlie was to test our voices for Byrd to see if we had any significant sound qualities which could be used in the country music industry. He had each of us sing something short for him and he asked each of us if we played any instruments. I told him that I played around with the guitar some but said that I really did not know how to play. He told me that I had a nice voice, but I would need to smoke more cigarettes if I was to get it deep enough for a career in country music. My cousin told him that he played the violin/fiddle, but Charlie had not been impressed with my cousin’s voice and that was about that.

We all got dressed again into our clothes and then Charlie gave me back my knife and told me to put it back into my pocket. He hypnotized us there in the room before we left and told my cousin and I that we were to remember to forget the events which had occurred there in the room backstage. I can remember that he had a pocket watch on a chain for this purpose. When he had finished with the hypnotism process Charlie hit us both with a taser to compartmentalize the memories of the events. He also took a moment to write a couple of other things down on the piece of paper that he had been working on when we had arrived, and he folded it up and handed it to me and told me to put it in my pocket and said that I was to give it to Byrd when I met with him the next day. He told me that I was not to look at it or read it but was only to give it to Byrd when I saw him. I found it strange that he would compose a message on paper in such an environment of secrecy especially since the message that I had brought to Charlie had involved so much pain. Next he grabbed a permanent marker from his desk and told us that we couldn’t leave without having gotten his autograph to remember this special event by. He signed both of our pictures for U.S..

Finally Charlie led my cousin and I out from his “Private” room and we walked into the area behind the stage. Charlie was still buttoning up his shirt and he asked me what my favorite song from the show that night had been. By that point in time I felt terrible inside and out from the abuses and traumas which I had just endured there backstage and I had a lot of trouble thinking of anything let alone remembering his country music show. Thinking on the issue a moment I told him that I had liked the one where he had sung about crystal chandeliers. Charlie liked this and as we walked he used this as a mental bind for my cousin and I. He told us that if we were good and did what Uncle asked of us then we would be rewarded with that house on the hill with the beautiful crystal chandeliers, and a beautiful wife and children. But, he told us that we would never want to talk with our wife and children about the things that we had just done backstage with him just as we stepped out from the backstage area of the show house.

We entered the seating area of the show house on the opposite side of the room from where we had first been taken back there by the young woman a short time before. There was almost no one left in the theater seats when we came out from the back-stage area with Charlie Pride other than our grandparents. The theater was dark and quite and there was only a person or two working and cleaning the aisles after the show and my grandparents were sitting up in the center seats there in the pale lighting. We all looked up into the seating and in the semi dark space could see our grandparents sitting and waiting for U.S.. We made our way across the front of the room and walked up to our grandparents there in the seats who were not paying attention and were looking down and reading something which they were engrossed in. Charlie first addressed them and said hello as it had apparently been some time since they had all seen each other. Charlie called my grandfather by the name Jim, which was confusing to me though when I had met Randy Travis on this trip he had also called my grandfather Jim as well.

They made small talk about our trip and about the show that night. My grandfather told Charlie that Randy and his wife had said to say hello to him, because we had just seen them a couple of days prior and Charlie liked to hear that. My grandfather asked how everything had gone backstage and Charlie told my grandfather that it had gone great, but he said that he had been told that he was not too be easy on the “Kid”, looking at my cousin when he said this. This made both my cousin and I uncomfortable and at that moment I could remember that I had been the one who had brought him that message. He told my grandparents that he had not been too hard on U.S. both. My grandfather asked Charlie what he had thought of our voices and Charlie told him that I had a nice voice but would need to work on it and smoke more cigarettes’ to get it deeper for country music. My grandmother did not like to hear this and did not approve of such a thing as my smoking. Charlie said that I would also need to learn to play an instrument and he said that my cousins voice was unfortunately of no use for the country music industry. My grandparents talked about how my cousin played the fiddle and was getting pretty good at it to which Charlie seemed to approve of, though I already knew that he had been told this while we were backstage.

When they had finished talking and it was time to go we said goodbye to Charlie and he left U.S. and he went back in the direction of the backstage area and we headed toward the main exit doors of the building at the front. When we got to the doors, we left the cool of the airconditioned building and went out into the hot and muggy evening of Missouri (Misery). When we had gotten outside of the building my cousin stumbled and fell to the ground as he was sick and nauseous from the traumas and electrocution he had endured backstage with Charlie Pride. My grandfather quickly walked up to my cousin when he collapsed and reaching down to help him up my grandfather said, “That Fucking Niger!”. I was shocked to hear him say this but he was angry as he felt that Charlie had been “too hard” on my cousin backstage. Grandpa got my cousin up and walking again and we made it back out to the van and got in and sat down. I felt sick and thick from the trauma and the electrocution and both my cousin and I were getting headaches as my grandfather started up the van and headed toward a part of town where we could get something to eat for dinner.

My grandparents did not want to take my cousin and I into a restaurant in the current state that we were in having just been raped and seriously abused and traumatized by Charlie Pride and hit with a taser, so they took U.S. to a Kentucky Fried Chicken drive thru and they ordered up some chicken and mashed potatoes, etc. for dinner that night which we took back to our room to eat in the privacy of our motel. We ate dinner that night and my grandparents did not allow my cousin and I to eat all the food in one sitting as they wanted to save some of the chicken for breakfast and lunch the following day. My grandparents were always frugal with their food and made sure to ration it out especially on trips such as this. My cousin and I both went to bed early that night as we were both terribly ill from the events of the evening. The next day we would stay in Branson for a short time while my grandmother took my cousin to a musical performance put on by a famous violinist though I do not know who he was. Then we would get back onto the road and headed toward Nashville for the family reunion which we were to attend. Along the way we would stop at a war memorial where we would meet with Senator Byrd. That is what I can remember of meeting Charlie Pride in the summer of 1993.

This work is a Journaled Memory of the author: J.R. Sweet

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