In Special Powers and the Nine Rings, author Mike J. Rockeyfeller talks about the clues left behind as each of the people from his life meet their fate. From an early age, Rockeyfeller was suspicious of his relatives as they discounted his right to property over the years. His Uncle Gee just took his father's land, car, and truck as his own when he died, never considering his nephew's right to his own father's property. Rockeyfeller lives his life by accepting his intuition and recognizing that events do not happen by chance. There is no specific time to relax ones senesces and ignore intuition. He recounts the instances where his intuition is borne out in the events that take place, from a friend accidently shooting himself with twenty-three hours of his birthday to the death of his selfish Uncle Gee in a train crash. Destiny has its own plan, and once it's in place, there is no going back. There are dates that have special meaning in each person's life. You can uncover the dates that have significance in your life and relate them to all that is meaningful to you. Claim the good karma for yourself.
Special Powers And the Nine Rings
By MIKE J. ROCKEYFELLERiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 Mike J. Rockeyfeller
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4759-1252-4Contents
Chapter 1: Near Death Experience, Twice before Twenty...............................................1Chapter 2: Family Homesteads, Including My Own......................................................3Chapter 3: Starting My Career in the Oilfield, and the Drilling Rigs................................6Chapter 4: First Plane Crash, in Alberta's Peace....................................................12Chapter 5: Uncle Gee Killed in Train Crash, and a Driller Killed on Rig 13..........................18Chapter 6: Oilfield Training in Texas, before Flying to Columbia, South America.....................24Chapter 7: Enemy Workers Killed in Separate Crashes.................................................33Chapter 8: Damaged Reputation and Fabricated Gossip.................................................42Chapter 9: The Start of Good Things; Meeting the Premier of British Columbia........................50Chapter 10: Problems with the Complainer City in British Columbia...................................55Chapter 11: Law Enforcement Officer Burns in His Car................................................62Chapter 12: A Near Miss Collision with a Tractor Trailer............................................67Chapter 13: Coincidence about Fours, and Four Law Enforcement Officers Shot.........................76Chapter 14: Unusual Events, Strange but True........................................................83Chapter 15: Civic Politics and Prosperity for the City..............................................92Chapter 16: Visit by the US Ambassador..............................................................108Chapter 17: Recap; Many Deaths Near the Complainer City.............................................112Chapter 18: Bad Karma Agnew.........................................................................123Chapter 19: Summary and Definitions.................................................................129Chapter 20 Records of Employment and Venture Development Dates......................................139Chapter 21: Premonitions and Dreams.................................................................143Chapter 22: Previous Bizarre Events on the Calendar's Love Day......................................150Chapter 23: View from Above.........................................................................158Chapter 24: Stakeholders Meeting, and My Special Date: 09/09/09.....................................163
Chapter One
Near Death Experience, Twice Before Twenty
I grew up in the country, surrounded by oilfield prosperity and industry. Mother taught school while Father and his crew built sites and roads for the oil and gas companies in remote locations. Summer holidays at Father's oilfield work sites were an adventure and helped shape my future in exploration and construction. At that time I enjoyed flying out to oil field locations in a chopper at age 10 with Dad, learning everything about the industry that I would have to start at an early age when he passed away just four years later. I knew that the oilfield was high risk and dangerous, but the lure of big money drew me in. Although I developed a fear of the industry that I had chosen, I refused to leave it because I believed the force that was with me would protect me. To this day I still maintain that the intuitions, warnings, and outstanding and bizarre events that happened could not be dismissed because of nature and could only be a divine force. Observing the warnings when they appeared would only strengthen my belief in the divine force while I watched skeptics perish. I also believe that I have encountered a strong spiritual presence and intuition, partly due to the near-death experiences that I had. The first was when I was about 10 years old, when I was stung twice on the neck by honey bees and almost died. The second was in 1977, when I was working drilling rigs and a drill pipe fell on me across my back, head, and neck, nearly killing me. The third was in the fall of 2003 and ended my career on the drilling rigs due to injuries I received when I was attacked. Since then I have had this compelling urge to always keep certain items with me that were from the spot where I was attacked, and I also bring them along with me whenever I travel. Unusual and strange events have occurred following these traumatic ordeals.
When I was age 10, one hot summer day in July I rode my bicycle on the farm and ventured out near the bee hive compound where we raised tame bees for organic honey. I must have appeared threatening to some of them because two of the bees stung me on the back of the neck. I had an allergic reaction, and within minutes my neck started to swell and my breathing was restricted as I tried to rush to my home town and to the hospital, which was about 20 miles away. En route to obtaining medical attention, I experienced more difficulty while my skin broke out in a rash. My entire body swelled, as well as my neck, and I developed an itch and couldn't stop scratching myself. Near the stop sign at the intersection one mile from town, where the town cemetery was located, I lost my breath and was starting to lose most of my senses. My vision started to turn to black, and I vaguely remember someone putting me in a vehicle. I lost consciousness and slid down flat on the seat of the truck while continuing to gasp for air. As I fought for my life, I slowly started to recognize my surroundings as we arrived at the hospital, where I received anti-venom medication for the bee stings. The timing of seeing that graveyard couldn't have been worse to scare a suffering 10-year-old kid! I fully recovered minutes after the medication, and I was happy to be alive.
Chapter Two
Family Homesteads, Including My Own
Our parents, uncles, and aunts all applied on homesteads in the peaceful country of Alberta, developing their land into a mixed farming operation with more than two hundred head of cattle and grain farming, spread out on 24 quarter-sections of land. Our neighbors in the area also grew grain and raised cattle. One day, four hundred fifty of their cattle escaped our neighbor's compound and trampled my parents' grain field, destroying it for the season. These neighbors felt terrible about what had happened and tried to compensate us for the loss; however, they did not feel that their compensation was fair because they would occasionally raise the topic years later. It was probably best to put that issue to rest, because homesteaders were poor in those days, so that matter was excused.
Many years later, when they were unable to care for their large herd of cattle, they sold them and were required to surrender their grassing lease, which would later be converted into another homestead program, Farm Development Lease and Farm Development Sale (FDL and FDS). I received a bulletin in the mail informing me of the development program that would increase my ranch size considerably if I was the winner in the bid for that prime land. I would also receive it for 10 percent of market value. This would turn out to be my best kept secret until I finally received the land development agreement as the winner, beating out all of my other bidding competitors.
I then rented a new D6 Caterpillar dozer and operated it for a whole month, until I had a large field fit for cultivation. The title took much effort over the next few years. During this time the economy crashed, and so did my credit rating, along with almost everyone working drilling rigs in the west. I would not accept defeat even after the local bank manager declined my loan application. Persistence paid off after I changed my name for the first time and restructured my financial affairs' appearance, making it suitable for acceptance and qualifying me for a twenty-thousand-dollar loan.
The first bank manager in my town, told me that he wouldn't lend me twenty thousand dollars, or even twenty dollars. He said, "Not after what you did over there," as he pointed to the other bank across the street, where they wouldn't do business with me anymore. I felt that the first bank manager who declined my loan was unfair, and that was why I had the approved loan account for $20,000 sent to his branch, just to rub it in, because he would not be able to recognize my new name, and he was furious with me when he found out how I withdrew the money from his bank without his approval and later sent the account back to his branch. I would continue to be creative this way to always succeed at whatever I undertook, because I believed that opportunity knocked only once, and one had only one chance to do it right.
Another development materialized as a result of my investigating and exploring issues with current homestead status. I had uncovered surprising information about my relatives that had been undisclosed for more than three years. I wasn't about to let this information surface later while I was politically involved. I also discovered that this relative had been an accessory to another's possible evasion, when they had been actively involved in influencing the other party to try and get away with it, providing them with transportation to the service center and the place of business. As coincidence would have it, the primary player in most of these events ignored my request for him to process a vital document without delay. This was not done and ironically became the reason that additional information was uncovered while I pursued other avenues of the process in order to reach a conclusion.
To start with, I had researched the 1980 Land Act and all amendments relating to homesteading, land development, farm development lease, and sale in Alberta; I had obtained an edition of this act from the Calgary Public Library in 2004. The Land Act stated the obligations and requirements that had to be fulfilled by applicants, and it also confirmed the act's effectiveness during the 1970s and its revised but still consistent 1980 edition.
My relative had been investigated for irregularities in his bookkeeping, and he had also delayed the approval of his own homestead beyond the 1979 deadline. He was granted a year-by-year extension until his cultivation duties were completed and had carried over into 1981, leaving all documentation to be dated in the 1980s, during the same period that my homestead had taken effect.
While I rented a new D6 dozer to develop my homestead, I also made cultivation duties that were required on his homestead, all at my own expense, and I had the receipts for them in my name, whereas he had none. He had to answer to revenue agencies as to whether he really did homestead the land. Where were the receipts for the fuel, and if he paid for the fuel from his earnings, then where was the record of the deductions from his employer? His employer paid him a lesser wage in cash money in the early 1970s, and revenue agencies investigated him as well.
Also while I was in Calgary, I made a claim against this relative's land, naming myself as the prime homesteader developer of his land. The record of all correspondence dating back to 2004 was the determining factor that made him accountable. Also, as coincidence would have it, the land that I made a claim against for cultivation improvements had been held under the homestead lease agreement by Dad and his brother, and it would be their focus for many years until finally my claim against it as the true developer homesteader was acknowledged.
Chapter Three
Starting My Career in the Oilfield, and the Drilling Rigs
From the age of fifteen I apprenticed in the industry for two years, working seasonally, and then at 17 I ventured out to work for an arctic company in the far north after convincing the employer that I was 18. It was an exciting time for me, the first time I ever flew into the north country, past the Northwest Territories border. I left the employment recruiter office with great anticipation, knowing that I would get to see a new frontier and possibly the frozen tundra. With the new exploration and drilling programs starting to mobilize for the busy winter season, it would be a great adventure.
I waited outside the office with a fellow employee who would accompany me on the trip, and we each joked with one another and made small talk while watching for the company staff car. A new red Caprice Classic pulled up. Our hearts raced, and I detected a smile on my friend's face, and I knew it wasn't from something funny I said but the beauty of the car. I also cracked a smile knowing the manager's son, Perry, had a heavy foot and would be driving us to the airport.
"Hi, Perry," we both greeted him as we climbed in. I laughed a bit and then said, "Oh yeah, this thing has a 454 under the hood." Then we all burst out laughing, knowing Perry couldn't wait to have the car out of the old man's sight, where he could open up the four barrels to give us a fast ride.
We arrived at the airport in plenty of time; normally the drive would have taken twenty minutes, but Perry gave us the best ten-minute ride we'd ever had. I said, "Good job, Perry," and laughed as we climbed out of the car. I put the duffel bag strap over my shoulder, and we walked to the air charter terminal building to get to the arctic company hangar.
After obtaining our boarding passes, we exited the hanger and walked across the tarmac to an older, four-engine prop plane. We boarded along with a few other oilfield crews and waited for the preflight routine. My friend and I joked about how we were going to imagine that we were royalty and behave that way when we arrived and exited. We remembered the earlier royal visits on arctic soil and memorized in our minds the whole routine: pause at the top of the stairs, smile and wave to the crowds, and slowly make your way to the bottom of the stairway.
We buckled up, strapped ourselves in, and were ready for the long flight. We were flying coach on this really old rickety plane with minimal heat, and that had us making jokes about our lack of comfort. Minutes later, after reaching cruising altitude, a male airline employee dressed in Pan-Arctic's jumpsuit strolled the plane's corridor, informing us that he would be our flight attendant and we had two choices for refreshments today, Pepsi or Seven-Up, because the coffee machine wasn't working. Coffee would have been nice right about then, to take out the chill; however, we zipped up our coats a little more and reached for our cold complementary beverage.
My friend and I continued our chat and occasional jokes to take our minds of the squeaking and creaking of the plane for the next few hours, until we made the descent upon nearing our destination. We heard the sound of the landing gear lowering as the pilot banked the plane and approached the air strip. We looked out the window at the base camp below, and the buildings and equipment near the air strip flashed by quickly as the plane's tires touched down for a reasonably soft landing. With little time wasted, the aircraft came to a stop near the northern terminal and portable stairs.
I was surprised to see that quite a large number of northern natives, along with the crewmembers who were waiting for a flight south, had gathered on the airport grounds. It ensured us the audience that we required for our little royalty stunt that we were about to perform. The local people remained nearby as we slowly made our stairway descent to the frozen terrain below.
When I turned eighteen, I immediately went to work for the drilling company closest to the north border, and for another drilling company that operated mostly in central Alberta. When bizarre events started to happen, I acknowledged them as warnings and considered quitting. However, I needed the money, so I continued to work. I sustained injury after injury, and they were becoming far too frequent in an eight-hour shift. It got the attention of everyone on the crew, and they thought it was abnormal and very unusual, because the accidents only happened to me.
It started with minor injuries from tripping and falling, and then it progressed to steam burns in the most unlikely locations, then to slipping through a hole in the ice and nearly drowning. I had a near miss on the rig floor, and finally the cat line rope broke while I was hoisting a drill pipe, which fell and struck me, causing a large open wound on my head and injuring my neck, back, and arm. The impact of the drill pipe cracking my scull was so severe that it left me unconscious for five minutes. As I lay there on the drilling rig floor after my hard hat had been knocked off from the falling pipe, blood started to leak from the back of my head. I was unconscious and unaware of the state that I was in, and the other crew members did the unthinkable and moved me without securing my head and neck, as they positioned me to make breathing easier for me.
As I slowly regained consciousness, my surroundings appeared grey at first before restoring to true color. The sounds of voices and the rig's motors were muffled, as though I were hearing them partially submerged underwater. After the crew administered first aid and I regained consciousness, the entire crew agreed that the circumstances were unusual, and it would be best if I sat this one out, away from danger for the remaining hours of my shift. I was discouraged and distraught, feeling sad after my shift, so I contacted my family to get a little moral support.
Instead I was shocked to learn that while I narrowly escaped disasters on the drilling rig, a relative had passed away at age 10, shortly after midnight the witching hour—not more than an hour before my dangerous ordeal started. Those events were so dramatic and shocking to the whole family, but instead of drawing the family closer together, it pushed everyone farther apart for the next few years.
First natural Gas Well Blowout Near Mitt Lake in Alberta
In the spring of 1979 I was working for Western Drilling Company on Rig 19 at Mitt Lake, near a small northern town in Alberta. I was contracting for a land resources company when the well that we were drilling blew out as a result of an abnormally high formation-pressure zone. The gas well had an estimated volume of 30 million cubic feet of gas per day roaring out of the flare line before being controlled. This was probably the best oilfield experience that I could ever hope to receive, because almost every oilfield service company was on location attempting to kill the well. Circumstances that made bringing the well under control difficult were a result of what they call in the industry drilling blind, which was drilling the well bore without fluid and cuttings returning out of the well, because they had drilled into a cavern, a fracture, or a fault in the formation.
With the blowout prevention equipment closed, the raw gas roared out of the flare line, shaking and vibrating all of the surface equipment, which required the additional support of excavated earth placed over the flare lines, to cover and secure them from movement.
Another difficulty they encountered was not being able to pump enough volumes of lost circulation material into the well bore to adequately heal the lost circulation zone. One of the methods also used in the process was the little inch pipe inside the drill pipe, to drill out a plug that they had placed inside the rig's normal drill string earlier. While drilling out this placed plug, the formation pressure forced the little inch pipe uncontrollably out of the well bore, and all over the location one could find heaps of narrow, bent, tubular metal resembling a giant plate of spaghetti.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Special Powers And the Nine Ringsby MIKE J. ROCKEYFELLER Copyright © 2012 by Mike J. Rockeyfeller. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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