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50 Days Worth of Blogs About ‘Tornadic’ Tom Vander Ark: Day 12

day 12

I absolutely canNOT believe I am about to tell this most humiliating story of my entire life very publicly.
But these are desperate times and they call for desperate measures. If it causes 1 or 2 more people to read about our situation then it will be worth the embarrassment. It was the most desperate thing I have ever done in my life.

Bear with me while I set the backdrop. It was fourth of July. I had miraculously been able to pull three days off from work (where I normally worked mandatory 10 and 12 hour shifts 7 days a week, in a non-union factory.) My husband had passed away a few years earlier so I was a single mom to five children. As the children and I set about to enjoy my dad and sister’s cottage in Geneva-on-the-Lake, I was doing a bit of laundry. As I came out from having put some more quarters in the dryer, I noticed a car in the parking lot with the motor running. I failed to make eye contact with the driver, so I intentionally  walked way around in a big square of a path of the car. Still in some kind of what seemed like a fit of anger…she revved her car to spin out of the parking lot, and literally slammed right into me. I thought for certain my hip was broke and my pelvis shattered for the level of pain. And I felt I would slide from the hood and she would run me over completely for she still was not paying a bit of attention.  I screamed a blood-curdling scream, and only then did she notice me, and panicked and hit the accelerator, (I had grabbed the edge up by the windshield wipers). I screamed again—pain and fear forcing it to a pitch from horror films, and she slammed on the brakes. I was thrown however high in the air, evidently doing some kind of back aerial, and landed in the pea gravel some seventeen feet from the car as was evidently later measured.  I remember bits and snags from that point, as I was mostly unconscious. The pain in my head, neck, shoulder, back and hips was unbearable, and I would faint again.I remember the ambulance going over some railroad tracks and losing consciousness again from pain. I do not remember screaming that time, but my sister who was in the ambulance, still tears up if she talks about it.

I by some sheer miracle, broke no bones. But, I had a double concussion, whiplash, a shredded rotator cuff, a sprained back, deep contusions in multiple places, and my hip bones and pelvis bones were severely bruised. For four days my sister patiently dug pea gravel out of my scalp and bloody road rash skin EVERYWHERE with tweezers and a nail scrub brush.

I was on the highest level of pain killers one can be on at home, and was on heavy duty muscle relaxers. The pain in my hip only seemed to increase hourly so that by day 6 I called the doctor and he said my hip was injured by the car hitting me and then by me landing as I did, to give it time. But, urinating a root beer colored-bloodstream let me know I had yet another kidney stone. I laid that evening and truly prayed to die in order to be out of the insane pain. I was not and have never been suicidal, I just wanted out of the pain. I forget which child, but one of them touched my face and I saw sheer fear, and they asked “Mommy, you are not going to die, are you?” “No”, I lied, changing my prayer to ‘Oh God please do not let me die from this.’ Not able to work for 8 weeks. No money coming in. No workman’s comp. No medical insurance. The newest car we had ever owned, used but with a car payment and full coverage insurance, sat in the drive, and I knew I was going to lose the car. And likely my job.

Sadly, once again, the children put themselves to bed. Afterwards, I literally on all fours, crawled to the computer. I typed in “homeopathic remedies” for kidney stones. Up popped this man’s site where he claimed he himself had battled kidney stones and had found a sure-fire way to chemically dissolve them at home. He had this whole on and on chemical formula reasoning for why it all would work. To my desperate drugged mind, I saw a way not to die. He only needed $34 and the cure recipe could be mine, I checked the bank account. $39. I sent payment, and fell into some kind of grogged stupor, hanging on to dear life feeling like wet toilet paper was the strength of whatever was holding me. The next morning, sure enough, the formula was in my email. It required you to drink two full cups of pureed cooked asparagus heated to a very exact temperature and then drink 2 liters of Pepsi also at a very exact temperature. We literally counted ALL the change in the car and the house and the kids walked to the grocery store to purchase the items. I assured the kids that mommy was going to be better in just a matter of hours. Needless of course to say, I was wrong to tell them that. Deadly wrong.

I was the most gullible dumbshit person in the whole entire world in that instance. I remember very little of the next two weeks.The kids talk of me throwing up green and fainting. I know there was an ambulance ride again (I am told) and a lithotripsy surgery for the stone the size of the tip of my index finger that lodged at the top of my ureter when I was hit by the car. I remember telling the children not to tell what I had drank or done, for I felt so stupid. Somehow I wrote to the man and he returned my money, but I really do not remember how. It all is a blunderous blur. Desperation drives deadly decisions.

These cities, that are forcibly being taken over and turned over to CEOs and charters (or community schools), they all are in a desperate state. The parents are desperate. The students are desperate. Desperation in the impoverished areas is a way of life. It is not a lack of intelligence (I am truly much smarter than to have normally ever succumbed to such a blatant scam.) BUT, in my utter despair, I velcroed right to the hype and false hope in the commercialized packaged offer. The worry of my children and for my children, had me completely overwrought. The chemistry formulas looked legit. I even looked some of them up. . Surely this con artist knew one in the sucker seat would do that, and so they mixed one big lie cocktail by swirling a whole bunch of cockamaimy bullshit with a concoction of little truths.

TOM VANDER ARK does this very exact thing almost to a T. He plays on the desperate emotions overriding the intellect. He tells you some statistics and some drummed up data. He tells you things you already know. He makes you think you have been thinking of this novice idea of his all along. He talks just a bit over your head to sound ever so ummm SMART (one of his favorite words and every time I read him typing Getting Smart, SmartBlog, SmartCities and SmartStates, etc., the Get Smart theme song plays in my mind. I think he watched far too much of that show when he was young!).

My city, Youngstown, Ohio is desperate. Milwaukee is desperate. Chicago is desperate. Philadelphia is desperate. Broward County is desperate. Detroit is desperate. LA is desperate. Newark is desperate. New Orleans, was and is  devastatingly desperate. And in all of those cities you will find Tom Vander Ark plundering and pandering in even more of an unethical manner than did that man who sold me some trickster shit, when all I could think about was my love for my children.

Tom Vander Ark is a walking/talking billboard for his own wares, be they his services as a consultant, his “gadgetrytech” products, or PD classes at $7500 each for his supposedly free online resources.

He is despicably a predator in every sense of the word.

He operates numerous Tom PODs.

Stick with me through this blog series, and I will show you more solid proof of what I typed tonight.

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