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From the Desk of George Barnard –March
20, 2010.
Cooperation All Around.
During the depression of the nineteen thirties, Jimmy Davies, not yet
a man, was the only breadwinner in a one-parent family of nine. Jimmy
would never forget the businessman, 'Old Harry,' who gave him the job
of tidying his yard - gave life to Jimmy's family - although the young
man could hardly be afforded, for times were tough all around.
In the late eighties, ageing, half-blind, and ailing, Old Harry still
owned a transport company that was three quarters of a million dollars
into the red. Jimmy Davies now ran an independent fuel depot that prospered
on paper, but had two million dollars outstanding -- three quarters
of a million of this to his benefactor of old. Old Harry's transport
company was bankrupt, big time, but with Jimmy's financial support it
could live. There was friendship, admiration, and unconditional love,
for the sick old man, and I was given carte blanche with Jimmy's business
check account in order to pull the ailing transport firm back into profitability.
As a free-lance troubleshooter in industry, I was never before, and
would never again, be so trusted with someone else's funds. I could
sign Jimmy's checks without his counter signature for up to $50,000.00
and pay Old Harry's bills. However, there was another reason behind
all this seemingly blind, and total, trust. If Old Harry lost his firm,
Jimmy, too, would go to the wall. And behind those two firms stood another
half dozen business dominoes that would surely topple in turn in that
small town of just 20,000. Everyone relied on everyone else. Everyone
was a necessary link in a single chain.
All had a Vested Interest. And I cannot remember a time when a whole
town gave me such support in a near-impossible task of righting the
wrongs of years of neglect and mismanagement. Even our opposition cooperated
where they could to give all the people what they wanted.
A Gallon's All.
It was in Jimmy Davies' office when I noticed
an old model Customline drive into the yard of this wholesale fuel depot.
The driver proceeded to put a little gasoline into the tank, then, to
my surprise, he pulled out a garden hose, and filled the tank until
it was full.
"What on earth is that guy doing?" I asked Jimmy.
"Keeping his motor running," Jimmy answered. "And that's
what I don't like about it. Mark has got to keep the motor running while
he refills. Nothing's that perfect." The owner of the fuel depot
laughed.
"He took just a splotch of gasoline! The rest is all water, Jimmy!"
"A gallon's all, George. He won't even let me look under the hood,"
Jimmy complained. "Here he comes."
The owner of the Customline poked his head into the office. "Hi'ye
there, Jimbo!"
"G'day, Mark. Nice day, eh? Here's yer docket."
The V8 Customline drove out of the yard. It was running smoothly, almost
silently.
"He's got that motor running just fine," Jimmy Davies remarked
with admiration in his voice. "He's now converting a car for his
wife, George. A Subaru, he told me. Yes … yes, he's got it all
worked out. It's running on water … well, almost. It kind of tells
me our days are numbered here. Mark says it's too dangerous to talk
about what he's doing. People get to be very dead when they know too
much."
The Customline owner is a go-anywhere, do-anything handyman. Mostly
he fixes fly screens to doors and windows. It is now twenty-two years
since I saw that automobile being refuelled with water, but today Jimmy
Davies sells more dirty conventional fuel than he ever did. And what
we all do is go fishing, boating, and swimming in this planet's clean
'fuel depots' we call rivers, lakes and oceans, as we needlessly keep
on burning fossil fuels.
For there are Vested Interests.
That Was Then.
It was in the late sixties when I met up
with the engineers who so diligently worked on the zero emission pollution
control device. It was in the mid seventies when Andy, the boilermaker,
trusted me with a glance at his rusty metal box. It was in 1988 when
I watched the water-driven Customline roll out of Jimmy Davies' yard.
That was then. This is now.
Times have changed. We now have daily,
open contact with the Urantia Midwayers - Primary and Secondary -- who
must also know exactly how Hydrogen can efficiently be separated from
the Oxygen of H2O. Even the Planetary Child (or Embryo) of the Supreme
is capable of greater realization of Self, and of all the local knowledge
that comes pouring in, day after day -- yes, millisecond upon millisecond
- in this, the Correcting Time.
We also, urgently, need 100% clean emissions on this fuel rich blue
planet.
It needs a scientific, engineering-oriented mind to be there when the
question is being asked and answered. It may well need a closed community
to develop the appropriate machinery, safe from the prying eyes of Vested
Interests.
God bless…
George Barnard for the 11:11 Progress Group.
© 11:11 Progress Group.
"Encourage your Children to Learn about God,
Your Scientist to Discover His Laws,
Your Travelers to Admire His Creation.
Now teach your Gifted Ones to hear His Words-
I am Athena, who loves you."
www.1111progressgroup.com
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