HOW TO RAISE A CRIMINAL: THE TRAGEDY OF DAWN MCSWEENEY

Conservative plan would name violent young offenders
Updated Mon. Sep. 22 2008 12:31 PM ET CTV.ca News
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HOW TO RAISE A CRIMINAL:

THE TRAGEDY OF DAWN MCSWEENEY

The first time I said "No" to my niece Dawn, the toddler cried. My sister, Debbie, forbid me to speak another word. "We do not say 'No' to Dawn. Ever!". When I heard Dawn, then a young teenager, spitting vile insults at her parents, I protested. Debbie accused me of being "old fashioned" and she and Dawn's father, Ed, warned me to mind my own business.

In her early teens, Dawn knocked her father flat on the floor. And in 1992, Dawn struck another teenager with an iron bar. I was visiting when Dawn returned home after using the iron fence post to hit a school mate. She came into the house dancing! celebrating! She was elated. She boasted about what she had done - blow by blow ! She had set out to get him and she did. Her parents approved ! Dawn had the right to express her feelings and the boy surely got what he deserved. I protested. I was told that if I said anything more, I would no longer be welcome.

In 1993, I was diagnosed with cancer. In 1994, I was baptized. That infuriated Dawn! Widowed and ill, I went to live with my own parents in Montreal. In 1995, I caught Dawn's boyfriend standing in my room surrounded by my boxes and cases which I had stored there for years. I felt threatened, but I assumed an easy manner, and asked why he was there. "Dawn told me to wait here for her." he said. "Please go downstairs to the living room and wait there with my mother," I said. "I don't blame you, but it isn't right for you to be in my room."

In an instant, Dawn bolted from the adjacent bathroom in a flying rage and began cursing. I didn't see her face. I only saw her mouth moving. I didn't hear her words. They cut right through me. They were not information: They were something else - Fathomless hatred. Blades wet with venom. A dark, life-consuming whirlwind. Electricity! I was left standing - rigid, empty and breathless - like Lot's wife!

At the beginning of October, 1996, Dawn suddenly moved into my parents’ home where I had been living for two years while recovering from breast cancer. Dawn and her boyfriend - known only as “Alex” - (my mother said she didn’t know his family name) moved into the bedroom adjacent to mine on the second floor of the cottage. Upon their arrival, Dawn started removing my clothes from hangars and dropping them on the floor, replacing them with her own clothes. She put my toiletries on the floor and replaced them with her own. Dawn and Alex slept on a pile of camping gear and blankets on the floor. Suddenly, the house was rocking with blasting music! I was scared.

But the worst part was that the new tenants were smoking something in their room that made me nauseous. No one else smoked in the house. I was terrified of fire. I put a battery into the smoke alarm in the hall and slept in my clothes for the next few days. It was an alarming few days.

On October 7, 1996, I was suddenly attacked and robbed of everything of value that I had, everything I had worked for all my life, every cherished thing left to me by my husband. Fighting to hold onto the phone, I called 911. The Montreal Police helped the thief ! I was escorted out the front door by the police and warned never to return to the house. I was rigid, trembling, breathless, in shock ! The police left me alone in the street, cold, homeless and destitute. Everything I owned was left in the hands of Dawn McSweeney along with the lives and property of my aged parents.

To this day, the police have failed to recover my possessions and Dawn and her associates are still free to enjoy the benefits of my precious belongings with impunity.

In the summer of 2007, I discovered Dawn McSweeney’s blogspot on the internet: It reads:

grasping at intangibles

Dedicated to partners in crime

and kindred spirits.

Voyeurs and well wishers also welcome.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

Pickup
A redneck in a pickup truck

with a cracked windshield

and a pit-bull hanging his head

out of the passenger's side

revved his engine at me today

and I swung my hips despite myself

http://graspingatintangibles.blogspot.com/


IN MONTREAL, CRIME PAYS !

The police cannot say "No" to Dawn. They say they are bound by laws that protect criminals. Police have told me that, as a victim, I have no rights. Debbie’s lawyer threatened me with a law suit if I persisted in telling people what Dawn did. When I phoned the lawyer and said I would be so happy to have the case heard in a court of law, he slammed down his phone.

Dawn stole everything I had. I have nothing left worth stealing. Furthermore, telling the truth is not a crime, it is a command: "Expose the deeds of darkness" ( Ephesians 5:11). Am I afraid? Of course I am. You may want to hear about what Debbie and Dawn and their “Partners in Crime” did to me in June, 2007. I cannot be silent about injustice - for my sake, for your sake, for God's sake.

This is a case of grand larceny aided and abetted by Montreal Police officers. If I have accused Dawn McSweeney falsely for twelve years, why hasn't she sued me? And why did Dawn McSweeney refuse to take the police polygraph test? I have volunteered to take the test more than once. The police refused my offer, saying that they believe me. But they don't act.

I AM ASKING FOR IS JUSTICE !

I WILL NOT SETTLE FOR LESS.

Phyllis Carter

September, 2008