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| Detective Paul McDougal-OCSD |
He had given her the last beating, before sending her back out into the cold world. She and I had met, while working at "Hit or Miss" an old clothing store for women. We became fast friends and started hanging out. What we really started doing was stealing. Everything that wasn't nailed down. We would get our load everyday. She and I used another friend to take things from the store. When our shift was over, we would meet up at her house that she shared with McDougal to split the spoils. He knew all about it, and benefited from it, because he didn't have to buy her clothes. He didn't have to buy food either. She got food stamps down at her sister's house. She never claimed the twins they had together, and he wasn't sought after for child support. Sadly, once he had beat the hope out of her, and she gave him their "boys", he got her for child support. She got in the rears and whenever she tried to come visit "the boys" she was arrested and sent to jail.
Patricia really thought she had "come up". She wore nice clothes, thanks to our little scheme. She had a nice little apartment with cute furniture and a view of the lake. She even once referred to it as "luxury". That was stretching it a bit, but you have to know her story. When she was young her mother gave her two oldest daughter to their father. That left Patricia and her two brothers, who were also twins. They lived in San Antonia and didn't have to speak English if they didn't want to. She was raised in a "project" with Mexican kids. She is Puerto Rican, and not Mexican. When she was 16-years old, her mother died. That left her in a string of family homes. While in New York, her aunts husband tried to rape her. I think that's where she got into a lot of her bad habits and routines. She finally came to Michigan, looking for her sisters her mother had given away.
Before that, she lived with a family in their basement. From what she told me, they took advantage of her emotionally, physically and in other ways. Patricia was beautiful, and men would almost run into us while we sat at the light, because they were staring. I was going through something myself with a hysterical pregnancy and she never judged and only tried to help. She kept running to the doctor, herself. My body was spontaneously aborting my embryos, because of my blood type. I am B-, and if my boyfriend had a positive blood type my body would abort my baby, because it saw the fetus as a foreign body. Patricia had another problem, Paul had herpes and she was always afraid she had it. One day, she asked me to watch "the boys", while she went to the doctor. I just asked her,"Why are you always going to the doctor?" She hesitated and in that thick Spanish accent said, "Paul got herpes!" I was floored and didn't know what to say. She went on to say he got it from some girl in high school.
Fast-Forward to 1998 and my brother is indicted with his friends. I go on with my life, working at Sears and going to school. One day, I see Steve Wittebort at the gym and start writing him love letters. I don't care, he fine to me and mind your business. There was nothing in those letters to cause alarm or fear. I'm not stupid and don't go out on the regular and threaten the police. I knew he was the police, because when he got into the academy he came to Sears and told me and told me he was buying a house. I didn't care! Five years later, he had gained 30 pounds, become a detective and acquired a swag I never seen, before. So, 10 years later I can say I had fallen for him. I just didn't know where that would take me.
In one of my letters, I mentioned my brothers friends. Steve then took my letters to his Sergeant and from there I guess Paul got them He then took them to his friend at the Oakland County Prosecutor, Denis Brainard. She then charged me with a crime. Afraid to be called a drug dealer, due to his association to me and my drug dealing brother Steve cooperated with the phony charge. Remember, Pontiac Police was filthy back then, and Steve going to prison for dealing drugs wasn't far-fetched, because look what they did to me. I ended up spending four years in prison, on a 90-day sentence. Colleen O'Brien gave him that one. I was rail-roaded so badly I hate thinking about the choices I was forced to make, due to ineffective counsel. Those days were long and hard in prison and I don't want to think about those, either.
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| Patricia Sanchez |
I got home and he continued to harass and interfere in my life. I went to complain to Val Gross, then Chief of Police in Pontiac, and he had me brought up on charges of stalking him. All the while I wondered, "Where is Patricia?" She was no where to be found and my life was once, again, falling apart. Due to the dirt of the Pontiac Police, a lot had been laid-off by then, but you couldn't cut it deep enough. I was even arrested and tried, after the Oakland County Sheriff's Department took over. Believe me, it was all lies and garbage and I can prove it. After all of my travels that are chronicled in these blogs, I've been home three years and living my best life, until this reunion came up. Paul's cousin Deneen, is said to have graduated in our class. I don't remember, and swear she was supposed to graduate the year before. She's on Facebook asking who the administrator of the group is. I reply to her question, "Me, why?" She gave no answer.
Then there was all this commotion about who was in the group and who wasn't. I changed the settings, and only I could allow people in the group. Then I began deleting all the people who weren't in the class of '88, or was a questionable character. That got the attention of the "haters" and they created their own group and blocked me out of it. I had blocked Deneen, mainly for being Pauls cousin. I sent her a nasty message and asked her to tell Paul, "Hello". When I saw that she had excepted my request, I blocked her and got my satisfaction. Honestly, I can't stand him. Deneen, like his entire family, thinks he's so special and I didn't have time for that in my group. Then one of my life-long friends asked me to take her back. She wanted a successful reunion. I agreed, and made this friend an administrator. This way she could do whatever she wanted to make the reunion successful. I thought I was being very fair and very generous.
One day, I got 51 request for approval to the group and not one from the Class of '88. Most of them were drug dealers, and I accepted those that were acceptable and Deleted the rest. I messaged the guy, who made the requests, and asked him not to do that and he berated me. Calling me "crazy" and stuff and I let it go. I blocked him, but then I was thinking where all that came from. I immediately thought of Deneen and Paul. She had requested back in the group, however, and I had let her back. It wasn't enough for the other women in the class. The ones who thought I would have their life and those so miserable with there's. Who starts another group and block somebody? I had blocked a entire list of '88ers. I didn't care either, but not from the group. I had only blocked two from the group, and they did right to create their own group, because I was tired of them chicks doing roll-call and leaving people out! Important people to me. I guess I'm a bit petty, too, and it is good they got their own group, now!
So, I write the letter, and tell everything, again! Patricia, food-stamps and herpes. Hoping this time that something will happen and once and for all, Paul would leave me alone. There is more he did, but I'm trying miserably to keep this short. Paul is a psychopath. The last time I told on him, he let that poor girl die in that Facebook murder case. Remember, he trailed the cars and didn't stop it. He never sounded his horn, flashed a light or turn on a siren. Nothing, and a young girl lost her life. I pray that this time, in an effort to look good, no one else has to die, because of Paul's lack of effort. I told all of this to Mary Pietila. She's the police or sheriff expert, and I was hoping that when she said she was going to help me. You know like in the first blog on her. She claimed that she would help me with a detective that was harassing me that it was Paul McDougal. No, it wasn't, and as you can see up top, she doesn't want anything to do with this. She wants to be the police and that's the problem
She didn't even want to talk about it, and brushed me off like I don't matter. I remember she told me, "Oh...It's all in your head!" She was listening to those crooked police and remember they were going to set someone up and needed me. She's not interested in the real bad people, only those she deems bad and screw a troublemaker like me. I always come back to my blog, it's my voice and as transparent as it gets. Paul can come out and say I'm a liar. The one thing he can do is produce Patricia. I hear he claims she's some wasted crackhead living on the streets or something. The person I knew would be living her best life. She wasn't dumb, by any means and I bet she's still beautiful, too. If somebody, anybody finds Patricia, I could get my entire life back. If one person who is responsible would just do their job, it could all be solved. That means you, too, Mike...
This is one of the exchanges, between Mary Pietila and me:
This is one of the exchanges, between Mary Pietila and me:
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