by Travis Mateer
What are your impressions of this building at first glance? Can you tell what it is? And is it even open? I wondered the same thing as I attempted to open the door of this CHURCH node of a curious organization I’ve written about before, called the Dream Center. Here’s a closer look at that door of this building, which is located in Pasco, Washington (Tri-Cities area).
CULTO? Yes, I did chuckle a bit when I read that, then I went to the establishment next door selling leather goods and confirmed this was, indeed, a church, and a church that actually opens its doors on Wednesdays and Sundays. Unlike the leather store in Eureka, this one didn’t use the name of a mystical Archon the Catholics consider demonic to sell shoes.
The day I visited this little Pasco was a busy day for me. Earlier, while using a rest stop, I saw a phone number. NO, people, get your head out of the gutter, this number was to HELP people in the sex/labor exploitation trade. You know, TRAFFICKING!
Two things happened with my call to this NATIONAL anti-trafficking number. The first thing is I waited on hold for 30 minutes, which is a time frame that I’m not sure is conducive to getting help at an interstate rest stop.
I’ll explain the second thing that happened in a moment, but first I want to show how long 30 minutes can be. For a poet with a road-bored mind, it can be enough to compose a fantastically obscene poem like this one:
I can’t pretend to poop this long what excuse will last? too much fast food hot sauce blowing fire out my ass? unusually high call volume when street pimps love their guns? like any slippery hole can make their clients cum? oh, you are offended? rough trade, town to town moving fast the product while I listen to the sound of pre-recorded messages and music, on a loop over 20 minutes now— the public has no clue Yakima is up ahead but Kennewick is next Tri-Cities, mother fuckers and motels are the best if I wanted something more than weed and joe with a little cream to help me as I go
Right around the 30 minute mark the second thing happened, and that second thing was SOMEONE ANSWERED THE PHONE!
The woman on the other end of the line ended up being VERY helpful, so helpful I pulled over to make sure I had the focus and cell-service to tell your LOTS about Missoula, and the LifeGuard Group, and Lowell Hochhalter, and sexual assault victims, and the Governor, and a Guy I now have a SECOND source regarding a personal fondness for heroin.
After talking to this woman for about the amount of time I was on hold, she asked me a few questions. Did I want to remain anonymous? Hell no, I said. And would I give permission for any follow up? Hell yes, I said. Because it’s time more mainstream media personalities, like Jon Krakauer and Connie Walker, stop getting conned by people who may have unhealthy relationships with unofficial street informants and unprofessional non-profit dudes like this guy:
How do you spell that last name again, the woman asked me? You spell Lowell’s last name like this, I replied: H O C H H A L T E R.
I couldn’t remember the name of the guy profiled by the Dream Center who is allegedly connected to a cartel and ALSO formerly hired by the smiling one to do some fence work on that “safe house” for victims of human trafficking somewhere in the Bitterroot, but that’s probably for the best.
I do, however, remember the name of the guy at the state who is supposedly investigating all this, but I’ll keep that under wraps, for now (I sure hope he got my message).
I also have some information that Lowell Hochhalter may be leaking information to family members of Joey Thompson about how he ended up dead in the river. Lowell, are you being a naughty boy? It’s not like you were ever reprimanded for violating the CCJI statute (Confidential Criminal Justice Information) when you went into creepy detail about how Jermain Charlo applied makeup.
Ok, enough for now, but trust me when I say there is LOTS MORE I know that I’m not writing about.
Thanks for reading!