CHAPTER 1

It was the fall of 1993. While in a neighborhood store, I ran into James Olson. James was around forty-five and a skinny stoner type. I didn't put much thought into what he would say, but maybe I should have. While talking he said, "You owe Acme Machine Company thirty grand."

I said, "What are you talking about? For what?"

He said, "For Acme."

I pressed a little more, and he said something like, "That's what I hear."

I asked, "From who?"

"From Acme."

I responded, "That doesn't make any sense," and then blew it off.

That would turn out to be the first of many cryptic statements, odd occurrences, unwanted attention, social isolation, and at times open hostility.

I had worked with James at Acme in 1989. We worked the second shift, where almost everyone on the shift drank and/or smoked pot. Thinking about it now, it seems odd that I would run into him occasionally in that neighborhood of that large city in a Great Lake state.

Nineteen ninety-three was a pretty good year. Two years earlier, I had started dating the woman I would eventually have two children with. There wasn't much money, as we were both working part time, and I was attending a highly regarded local trade school, studying HVAC and power plant operation. Throughout the year, we had a fair amount of social activity with people we knew from the neighborhood and people from school and work, as many from school were close to my age — in our early twenties. I had never lacked social skills or been socially awkward. I've always been able to fit in.

What a difference a year would make.

School ended in December of 1993, and I began interviewing for jobs that the school set up. I interviewed with two men, Ben and Tom, who worked for a large real estate company owned by a man that owned a professional sports team. I was interviewing for the building engineer position (HVAC/power plant operation) at a fifty-story office tower with an attached galleria-type shopping complex.

The interview went well, and I had another interview with Tom and the head property manager, Phil. During the interview, Phil asked a very strange question: "Is there any sort of problem or gossip that would interfere with your ability to do this job?"

I responded, "I don't think so," following the school administrator's advice to focus on the positive. I would later understand there was something out of the ordinary going on. Since I was coming out of school and to a location where I didn't know anyone, I wondered how gossip could be a problem. It didn't make any sense at the time. Also, this being a job interview, I didn't want to ask, as I was beginning a new career, so getting that first job was very important.

I got the job.

In February 1994, I was excited to start my new job and began with a positive attitude and open mind, but it soon became clear that something was very different from my life just a few months earlier at school and in the part-time job. Many of my coworkers were very standoffish. At first, my thought was that they just needed some time to warm up to the new guy. Beside my coworkers, I had contact with many other people who worked in the office complex or mall, and many of them acted the same way. At times I felt like I had leprosy.

This would be very different from my previous life — like night and day. With so many people, why I was unable to make any connections or friends or even acquaintances? This was all new and confusing.

During that time, I began to notice some strange coincidences. They began with a phrase or greeting like "how's it going?" or "have a good one."

Imagine leaving your house and a neighbor asks, "How's it going?" You go to a local store, and the cashier asks the same. You arrive at work, and the security people ask it, and then a coworker uses the same greeting. Then strangers around you do the same. All of this happens enough that you notice it, and it happens in a short amount of time and at multiple locations. A little strange, right?

It's just a phrase or greeting, you might think. It is possible that different people from different locations would all use the same greeting all at the same time. A little odd, but possible, right?

I would later learn that what I just described is a process referred to as sensitizing or conditioning, in which a person's attention is somehow hooked, usually through repetition involving a particular object, behavior, person, etc. In this case, it was normally ordinary words and phrases. Once a person's attention has been hooked to coincidences, it becomes easier to expand and repeat the process.

Around this time, I began to sense that at times I was being followed, and I encountered people who seemed to know more about me than they should have. There was nothing concrete — just a sense. Some of what I just described are stalking behaviors contained in a study by the US Department of Justice along with many other stalking behaviors as well as symptoms of being stalked.

Again, everything up to that point was really just about some odd occurrences or coincidences and how things felt. I had always had friendships with coworkers outside of work and been able to socialize in typical ways. Not anymore.

Along with these strange coincidences and with a sense of being followed, I was beginning to feel like some people that I considered friends were pulling away or trying to avoid me or minimize contact with me. I asked my girlfriend to put a tape recorder in her pocket and walk around and ask questions about me at the mall, which was attached to the office tower I worked at. It was an ill-conceived plan — even laughable — and it produced nothing, as nobody was willing to talk about me. But she did try. That is a hell of a thing to ask someone to do.

I stayed at that job for a year, since it didn't seem like a situation for long-term success. I probably wouldn't have left that job if it had been a normal situation.

I should also point out that a coworker named Nancy used to say pretty regularly, "Cole, know what time it is?" I never heard her ask anyone else that — or say that about any other subject or topic, for that matter. And it was clear she wasn't asking the time. As I look back at this, it's clear to me that she was implying that I knew what was going on. The fact is, other than noticing some odd coincidences and strange occurrences and encounters, I didn't yet know "what time it is.

Early in 1995, I found another job with a small HVAC company owned by two guys a little older than me, named Andy and Sam. I saw the ad in the paper, called, and talked to Andy. I met with him at their office, and we talked for about half hour. I was told what tools I would need and to call him Sunday night for instructions on where to go.

This was refreshing. No "how's it going?" or "have a good one." No standoffish interactions. I thought maybe a fresh start at a new location was what I needed. But the fresh start would turn out to be short-lived, and I found this very disappointing. The realization set in that somehow I was going to be treated differently and that different is almost never equal and is always somehow lesser. But with a baby on the way, I needed to work.

With this smaller HVAC company, I was working new construction in the suburbs east of the city, and it wasn't long before I began hearing "how's it going?" and "have a good one" frequently at job sites and stores and restaurants. It was becoming clear that...