On March 26, 1994, Rosemary Miles, born Rosemary R. Rosamond, lost one of her four children. For the next seventy-two hours, all matters should have been put aside, so all family members can grieve for their loss. Just because Christine Rosamond was famous, there should never be special considerations – especially by outsiders. After her daughter’s funeral, Stacey Pierrot approached my mother and I, knelt down on one knee, took the hand of the woman who gave me birth, and said;
“Don’t let the dream die!”
Seven years later, Stacey Pierrot approved of the ghost writer she hired, writing this.
“Garth had chosen not bring Drew to an open casket funeral and had been taking good share of heat for his decision. In a way, it as if Christine had seen it coming – that being together, for whatever purpose, was simply not something the Presco were able to do.”
Stacey went to high school with Jacci Belford and thus was filled in on the conflicts Christine was having with her mother – that are not unique! Rosemary was not a perfect mother, but, she had a right to be treated with dignity and respect at her daughter’s funeral. To deliberately deceive a GRIEVING MOTHER in order to MAKE MONEY from the death of her daughter – is as evil as it gets! No way can you excuse THIS EVIL by saying a mother deserved it.
My mother stayed the night in Christine’s home after the funeral. She did not take part in any looting – or see any looting. No members of her family, no child of hers, stole from her daughter’s estate – because the looting scene – IS A EVIL LIE – and I can prove it. Did Stacey’s father have concern about the veracity of this false statement? What is truly diabolical Pierrot took posthumously took away a grieving mothers bragging rights that I believe she believed Pierrot, and others assured her she would own. Her is the Cruelest Theft of all that any mother and any daughter would detest, as should all the Mothers of the World.
ln my Recovery book Rosemary will get professional attention because I am going to seek the expert input of psychologists.
President: Royal Rosamond Press
If Christine’s parents had embraced her talent, there might be existing works from her childhood, but this was not to be. Fearing that Christine would steal her brother’s spotlight as the family artist, Christine’s mother, Rosemary, forbade Christine to draw at home. The only time she could express herself was at school or in her closet, by flashlight, when everyone else was asleep. Though we don’t have images to prove it, Christine’s kindergarten teacher has said that, by age five, Christine was already drawing with adult skill. She can remember Christine’s pictures of animals having near perfect detail and perspective.”
“Before the service, Vicki had taken the trouble to go through Christine’s bedroom, putting her jewelry and intimate belongings out of sight. As matters turned out, it did little good, for the funeral was not long over before family members and others were ravaging Christine’s house, taking whatever could be carted away. The artist’s closet, a veritable mother lode – took the worst beating. World-class spender that Christine had been, much of the clothing had never been worn. So whatever still bore price tags was hauled off to be exchanged for money. Jewelry disappeared, as well as other personal belongings. Gallery employees and close friends of the family, along with Vicki, were doing their best to staunch the flow – the estate had not yet been inventoried – but to no avail.”
On our way home from the funeral, Michael broke the long silence by saying this;
“Gee, I’ve never been to a theme funeral before “Don’t let the dream die!”
We both began to crack up because I had this theme too, from Stacey Pierrot when she was down on her knees holding my mother’s hand. Michael heard Pierrot say this to several people in the Rosamond gallery as my PI followed her the PR Lady. He too saw her giving members of the inner circle Rosamond prints down in the basement. PR Pierrot held out a vase of Rosamond’s spendy paint brushes, and said;
I went for the juiciest, fattest, and costliest one, a sable that cost over a hundred dollars. I was now guilty of stealing from the estate. Only my adult niece and Heir would go to jail, she accused of the same thing.
I then went up to Raphael, my beautiful childhood friend, and Christine’s best friend. Raphael had a crush on me since she was fifteen. Christine forbade her to see me.
“Close your eyes. I’m going to paint you!”
Raphael wore a beautiful smile as I moved the sable brush over her high cheek bones, and then over her lips. This was the only glimpse of sanity that day.
I suspect the Angry Millionaire was at that secret business meeting disguised as a fund raiser for funeral costs. I suspect Rosemary and Raphael were there. How else could she learn who he was. I regret not asking his name. Did Sande Greene help make funeral arrangements? I suspect the caterers put the food on hold, Rosamond’s Sober Birthday, now a ghoulish business freak show that I link to Frank H. Buck who swindled Oregon Homesteaders out of the land the Government wanted them to have.
“Hello funeral goers! My name is Stacey, the future ‘Caretaker’ of your creative family legacy, Because Dead Christine was the Eternal Artist known as Rosamond, things will not happen in a traditional manner. Right off the bat, Garth and Drew Benton are not in attendance, because the outcome of the divorce is being restructured. In theory, Drew get’s everything, but, because she is a minor, everything will be sold to me and Jacci Belford, who were handed a secret document that is the Divine Plan that came to Rosamond in a dream. She passed on a vision on how her Big Art Business can be saved.
Now, I am not to be confused with an Undertaker, for in theory, Rosamond is not dead. She lives on in me and Jacci, who she loved dearly. This is why she taught us everything she knows. This is why the outcome will be different then when she was alive, when she paid us shit wages, if at all. Gone are the days when we took orders from one crazy-ass drunken woman who made it impossible for us to make money FOR HER. The powers on high, have given US a second chance – TO GET IT RIGHT! With Rosamond out of the way – HOW CAN WE FAIL?
If you open up your bag of Free Stuff you will find a scroll. Undo the black ribbon, and read our GUARANTEE!
“Me and Jacci love you all, as much as we loved Rosamond. Here is a list of Rosamond prints you can purchase this very day. You can prove to the World of Art what great business people we are by buying two Rosamond images. We have a book, a movie, and a HBO series in the works. HOW CAN WE FAIL! Love us! Love Rosamond!”
Now, let’s get to that yummY Pre-Death food that the caters put on ice for us! DONT’ LET THE DREAM DIE! I can’t hear you!”
DON’T LET THE DREAM DIE!
Who in the fuck is Faulkner? What happened to her attempt to get it right? Did Alan Pierrot learn from his daughter that my seventeen year old daughter had put me out of her life, and thus the threat of a rival biography, was over? Did he do that little dance Hitler did as he watched his Nazis march into France?
Mark Presco is proving the BIG WINNER because Von Trump likes the cut of Mark’s jib. Let’s have a little theme music as Nazi-Mark takes us – the rest of the way! Trump is restructuring the White House Theme around Mark, who secretly backed Pierrot who may have shoveled money to him under the table. I am going to do some Nazi Posters depicting Mark&Stacey standing on a hill watching the sunset, their hand on a Nazi flag. Pierrot’s hair is in pigtails.
We liked the same music, went to the same dances and had a good time together. I played on the football team so many of my good friends were black. One of my best friends was black. I was very optimistic about the future, even contemplating us all melding into brown people.
I supported the civil rights movement because I knew there were still pockets of institutionalized racism in the country. I believed we were finally going to make the words of our Declaration of Independence and Constitution ring true for all Americans.
Almost immediately after civil rights were firmly established in this country, I begin to observe black people segregate themselves. The most important thing in the black community began to be perceived of as appropriately black. To this end black people have created their own music, their own dress, even their own language, in short, their own culture. This culture is not only intended to be different from the white culture, it is anti-white. To my mind it has become the most racist culture in this country. The worst insult one member of this culture can pay another is to accuse them of acting white. Within this culture constant charges and counter charges as to whether your skin is too light or too dark. Skin color is everything to this culture.
The worst of all is the concept of affirmative action which sprang from the civil rights movement. This is nothing more than reverse discrimination. Black people threw the concept of a color blind society right out window. They want us to notice their skin color and they demand privileged treatment because of it. This was the first nail in the coffin of race relations for me.
Ever since the civil rights movement black people have systematically demonstrated their total incompatibility with white culture. As stated above, white culture requires individual responsibility, not just in creating your own wealth but in all other aspects. Black people’s concept of affirmative action has given them such a sense of entitlement that they are holding white people responsible for providing them economic parity to white people. They actually believe that the economic inequity between our races is proof of white racism and white oppression. This is a totally false premise.
Black people don’t have their fair share of the pie almost entirely because they don’t create their fair share of the pie. All my life I have listened to black people demand that they be given their fair share and precious little about their responsibility to create their fair share. This is the kind of tribal mentality described previously.
Black people hold white people responsible for giving them jobs, but it’s not their responsibility to stay in school and get an education or otherwise develop a marketable skill. The black dropout rate has been upwards of 50% all my life, and it’s not clear how much of an effort the ones who remain in school make.
Oprah has determined that they are not worth her time and money. She would rather educate Africans.
“… I became so frustrated with visiting inner-city schools that I just stopped going. The sense that you need to learn just isn’t there. …”
Just who the hell is she holding responsible for educating black children, white people? What can white people do when these children rationalize their behavior by claiming that educating themselves is “acting white” and they are not going to do it?
And yet white people are being held responsible for providing economic parity to black people; and if we don’t give them jobs then we must give them welfare, subsidized housing, food stamps, health care, and so much more that I have come to believe that black people consume far more in social welfare programs than the pay in taxes. There needs to be an accounting and I would like to be proven wrong.”
Thanks for sharing, Mark. Oh, you are not done? Allow me to retort before you rant on.