What we have here is a business attorney, Rudy Bilawski of
Neumiller & Beardslee in Stockton, who takes "one week of vacation time" to do some trial work and then complains that it is not his forté. My question is: Who asked him to? A couple of months later, my trial lawyer, Larry Drivon of Belli, Drivon & Bakerink
in Stockton, will tell me that business law is not his forté
and he wants out. So I have a business attorney who does some
trial work (to my knowledge, the only work he did on the case)
and then wants out because he does not like trial work. And
I have a personal injury lawyer who takes on a business case
and then wants out because it's a business case. Go figure.*
It should be noted that the Interrogatories were prepared
for and sent to Haig Berberian's lawyers. However, these Interrogatories
were not sent to the lawyers for Wells Fargo Bank. They were
sent to an attorney for their legal counsel; namely, James
Wiezel at 2 Embarcadero Center in San Francisco. But he's not
on the directory in the lobby of this huge office building
with many very large law firms and businesses. His law firm,
Thelen, Marrin, Johnson & Bridges, is indeed listed. But, as can be seen on the Proof of Mailing, the Interrogatories were not addressed to them. And the zip code for this firm is 94111, not 94108. Additionally, and as can also be seen on the Proof of Mailing, the zip code for Steven B. Sacks, a lawyer for Haig Berberian's San Francisco counsel, namely, Titchell, Maltzman, Mark, Bass, Ohleyer & Mishel, is completely missing. Try mailing something without the inclusion of the zip code of destination and see what happens. And one more thing. No "Esq's" were
appended to the names of the two attorneys, probably to make
sure that if the envelopes did make their way to the stated
address, the mailman wouldn't know, at least in the case of
Wiezel (floor unknown), that he was an attorney. Was all of
this stuff attorney and/or secretary error? Maybe. But maybe
not. In this convoluted case of mine, you never know what might
be intentional error for some nefarious reason. I had to watch
everything once I knew that intentional errors and omissions
were being made.**
Did Haig Berberian's lawyers respond to the Interrogatories?
Yes. But, among other liberties, the "error" would
give them indeterminate extra time to do so. They could then
pretty much pick and choose their time to respond. This entire
website is a timeline because I have found that time and statutes
of limitation seem to be a common synchronistic theme throughout
the case around which the timeline revolves and vice versa.
Wells Fargo Bank's counsel, Thelen Marrin, never responded
in any way regarding these Interrogatories prepared for Haig
Berberian's counsel, Titchell Maltzman. And no Interrogatories
were ever prepared for and sent to Thelen Marrin. You'd think
that both conspirators would be held to account. Wells Fargo
Bank was the entity having the strictest fiduciary duty to
me. Yet Drivon and Bilawski angled the entire case at Haig
Berberian. And the question is, why? This is part of the overall
mystery.
*I once asked Rudy Bilawski why his
firm's trial department and its top trial lawyer, Jim Askew,
who was present during most of the meetings with me and my father,
did not want the case. Rudy responded as follows: "He is simply not interested in it. Jim runs five miles a day. I could run five miles a day myself, but I'm just not interested in doing so." I
was a runner at the time, running three miles a day. After my
meeting with Rudy and from then on, I started running five miles
a day.
**Such errors and omissions would be manipulated
by the attorney if not executed by him. Neither a legal secretary
nor a paralegal would ever be allowed in the loop of a case
like this. Of course, there is no other case like this. There
has been nothing like it ever. This website/exposé details
my involvement in what must be considered a "phantom case." And my reaction to it was an ingredient that was never expected by any of the players. Not even my psychiatrist had a clue, because I didn't get my shit together until I left psychotherapy. With no prior notice, I surprised Dr. Sheuerman one day by exiting cold turkey. And I think that I left the Hippocratic doctor believing that everyone around me was a loser. He was wrong. Three years later, on August 1, 1987, I confided in my most loyal, serious, educated, scrupulously honest, and intellectually curious friend. Vocationally, he is a poetically-minded singer/songwriter. He in turn befriended me in an extraordinary unprecedented heroic way. (It is astonishing what he did on my behalf. And I'm not sure why I would deserve such help. He didn't ask for anything in return) Even though he believed that I had gone into this thing with my eyes open, he saw as I do now, that the way I had been treated over the years was inhumane. In response to my pleading for the truth from my lawyers, I was told absolutely nothing. In fact, I was abandoned. Oh yes, my psychiatrist threw me a bone now and then. But only when he had to. In a tight and sticky legal situation wherein I was going out of my mind, he was performing a follow-up favor for Rudy Bilawski to whom he referred my case (and in whose law firm his two sons had interned). My friend thought Dr. Sheuerman's behavior was the most egregious of all of the players. Maybe so. In response to what my new "confidante/counselor" saw in my records and heard in my account, he masterfully helped me to transform into a credible in pro per. And all of a sudden, I had to be taken seriously. As a result, all hell broke loose. I lifted the lid on a gigantic can of worms. It turned out that I had inadvertently set everybody up. I had told all of the players all along what I planned to do if I wasn't told the truth about all of the bull that had been going on for 5 ½ years, most all of which they knew that I was memorializing in notes and letters to them. In response to the sheer hell I'd gone through, with my friend's help, I would eventually be able to strip the players' legal, judicial, medical, banking and accounting professions down to their respective birthday suits. To put it bluntly, we cut their balls off (or so I believe). Not that I was ever intimidated, but the education and high I.Q.'s involved ended up meaning virtually nothing. I would eventually get it together enough to meritoriously appeal my case all the way up to the Supreme Court of California. My friend and I became a 5-year snafu that just wouldn't die. (One attorney with whom I consulted tried, albeit in vain, to kill the appeal of my Superior Court case in order to please The Brotherhood. But that's a whole nother story which I will address elsewhere) This website and exposé as it is, is evidence of my redemption. However, this website is all I've got to show for everything I've done and gone through with regard to this "complex" lawsuit supreme. As it turned out and as may be evident herein, I was born to go after this thing. My predilection for recognizing and analyzing bullshit gave me some bearing and orientation in the matter. The quest actually fit me like a glove. Don't get me wrong. It ruined my life. My involvement in the matter emotionally and in terms of thinking time is going on 28 years. I'd rather be and have been doing other things. My life has passed me by. And I'm in a pretty lonely place. I recall having once said in jest in a letter to Larry Drivon regarding my dedication to this matter: "I regret that I have but one life to give to my lawsuit." The sad and sorry truth is that it turned out to be true with regard to the time it has taken from my life. It is my cause célèbre, not by choice. By necessity, the dreadful agonizing investigation of this suit has become my life's work. And as long as I am thinking about and investigating it merely within the confines of this website, the case remains alive. I was forced by the conspirators to conduct this investigation by virtue of their very conspiratorial formation and existence. In effect, their secretive curious behavior called me out. And I showed up. (I'm sure that it bugged The Brotherhood players that an outsider managed to stick his big Armenian nose into their affairs and find out about its inner workings) I have a psychological if not an innate aversion to a bona fide conspiracy in my life. (Perhaps I am saying that I like the ones that are all in my mind?) The conspiracy at hand scared me and I had to understand it. I had no psychological choice. Among other reasons, I could not and would not be kept in the dark. The entire matter, this "dark matter" as I sometimes call it, was shrouded in so much secrecy. And I'm a curious guy. Intuitively inclined with a penchant for noticing details in a person's demeanor, I've watched human behavior all of my life. And the conspirators' was easy to read. Piece of cake. That is, once I was confident that my hidden agenda theory wasn't psycho. I was successful in figuring them out. For the most part, this happened with the entrance of my friend. For one thing, he's the smartest guy I have ever known. (He would have been a real intellectual match for Dr. Sheuerman had they gone head-to-head, the latter having an I.Q. in the 160 range in my estimation) And he was also alien to the players. They had never faced anything like him. His motives, they did not understand nor know how to deal with effectively. For he was neither the familial lawyer nor businessman essentially motivated by lust for money and power, nor was he at their beck and call with the prospect of the usual covert untraceable Brotherhood bribe. In combination with crazy anal-retentive me, who remembered and wrote down everything important and the not so with regard to things that I saw, heard, smelled, tasted and felt, the players had to face a shitload of legal and other problems for which they really weren't prepared. They scrambled for cover. My new "counselor" told me shortly after our efforts got under way, "the players are going to have a hard time putting a lid on this thing." My education then and present understanding in the matter had and have little to do with Dr. Sheuerman. After my discovering fraud and even after the institution (or "non-institution") of my lawsuit, his tidbits of information impartation could be considered cryptic in their delivery since I was in such a state of fear. He left me no room psychologically for cross-examination. I was still at a loss for what the hell was going on and worried that I was delusional. Early on, from time to time, he did say things that were direct such as, "you're father was screwed, blued and tatooed." But what use did I have for things relating to my father? At the time, I myself was getting "screwed, blued and tatooed." But he never admitted this. Why? Because he himself was part and parcel to the screwing, blueing and tatooing. Despite and in spite of Dr. Sheuerman's "help," in time, I would find out that I was simply yet emotionally dealing with a bunch of dirty rotten scoundrels who were playing the scorched earth game of hardball involving the highest of stakes and they were marching to the beat of a real secret agenda to which I was not privy. Dr. Sheuerman was one of these scoundrels, a tacit conspirator, though I believed everything he was telling me. And rightly so. But they were only grains of truth. He was only telling me half truths, which, as everyone knows, is a form of lying. At the time, I did have enough wits about me to know that I could not take anything that the other players said to me at face value. They were tinkling in my face and half-expecting me to think that it was raining. But the players, of course, knew that I knew this. And they knew that I knew that they knew that I knew this. I would always assume that they knew everything that I knew and was doing. (No, I never and neither assumed nor presumed that they knew what I was thinking. Did I believe that my phone was being tapped and my mail was being victimized by voyeurs? I'll never tell) Thus, I could have a fighting chance to stay on their tail. (Creative way of saying that I was paranoid? Or was it that I put paranoia to a good creative use?) But I wasn't trying to outsmart anyone. I was smart enough to know that you cannot beat someone at their own game. Minimally, I wanted them to know that I was watching them perform their tricks. But they had no idea that I would ever be able to unscramble, translate and define to any appreciable degree, what I saw. A big part of their game was that, despite my scrutiny, they were not going to let me get in their way. Getting in their way would be my understanding what was really going on and interference from me regarding their secret agenda which would then be not so secret. But was it not my legal case that was going on? I recall once again Dr. Sheuerman who said to me when I complained of being frozen out of the matter: "Some lawyers like to consider a case their own once the client has signed on." In retrospect, when I was frustrated and angry and ready to hit the ceiling, the good doctor was always sure to deliver the wisdom that kept me in my seat, or "on the couch," so to speak. But in the end, the conspirators' jig was up (Dr. Sheuerman's among them) as soon as my head was clear (of Dr. Sheuerman, for one) and I had some honest help from someone with integrity. Perhaps the crimes committed prior to and during Berberian v. Berberian & Wells
Fargo Bank may indeed go unpunished. And even though the documents
within this website exposé speak for themselves, the story
won't go untold.--Was there and is there in reality a grand
conspiracy out there? Or did I and do I have a fantastic imagination
and all of this hidden agenda stuff was and is all in my mind?
Read on, if you are inclined.