This is the entire case-file on record at the San Francisco County Superior Court Clerk’s Office regarding my lawsuit against my uncle, Haig Berberian (since deceased), and the trustee of my erstwhile trust, Wells Fargo Bank-San Francisco. When I was making photocopies of the documents to post on this website, I noticed for the first time that I have no copy of the Original Summons. Thirty-five years ago, I purchased a certified copy of the entire case-file after all of the superior court case activity was over. Aside from its absence in my files, I have other reasons to believe, and therefore I am going to confidently assume, that there was no Original Summons on record at the time that I made the purchase. I guess it makes sense that a Phantom Original Summons would be part of a Phantom Lawsuit. What legal sense its absence would make at any given point in time during the civil procedure of my case, is something for which I have little or no comprehension. However, I will proceed to make some educated and not so educated guesses in this regard.
As anomalous as the query sounds, whether or not there was an Original Summons issued at all by the court, despite the indication of its issuance in the Register of Actions, I do not know. But to me, the absence of a copy of the Original Summons in all of my files when I have been a paper hound regarding my case and its files dating back to the inception of the matter, is one more signification that there was something very odd about the procedural history of my case. Since you cannot take anything for granted in Richard Berberian v. Haig Berberian & Wells Fargo Bank, I will throw the following right out here, front and center. Namely, there was a “hidden agenda” guiding the crooked legal path of my lawsuit. As to the nature of this agenda, at this point in time, thirty-five years hence, I frankly have few clues. The answer lies with The Brotherhood. (The answer does not lie with the lies of The Brotherhood that I encountered from beginning to end)
Whether or not an Original Summons is present in the superior court case-file currently (be it a microfilm, microfiche or hard copy), is something into which, as of yet, I have not checked. Such is neither here nor there. Assuming that one did in fact exist at the outset of my lawsuit, I’m sure that such Original Summons, or any altered version thereof, could be replaced as easily as any original was removed. (Perhaps it was popped back into place once any worrisome statutes had run their course) Maybe some kind of “clerical error” notation would be presented with it. (I am assuming that the case-file itself as a whole in some form is still there in the San Francisco Superior Court Clerk’s Office. However, it would not surprise me one iota were it gone without a trace) If an Original Summons ever existed, it may indeed have had a pretty clever disappearing act. The handiwork of a “mole” at the courthouse? My intuition tells me that this is a possibility if not a probability. A mole, that is. Not necessarily a disappearing act by the Original Summons. (An additional reason or two for the necessity of a mole at the SF court clerk’s office is yet to follow) But let me go further out on a limb here. No Original Summons may, in effect, theoretically mean no original lawsuit. This notion certainly meshes with the absence in the court record as well as the absence in Larry Drivon’s Berberian v. Berberian & Wells Fargo Bank case-file(s) of a Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt signed by Haig Berberian (the primary defendant as far as my suit is/was concerned) after a copy of the Original Summons and first complaint were allegedly simply popped into the mail to him by Sheri Navone, Drivon’s secretary at the time (my having received a courtesy-copy of the prior-to-mailing, Acknowledgment, and cover letter thereto from Sheri), traveling standard first class at the end of August or in early September of 1983. This would also give credence to my theory that my elderly uncle did not know that I had sued him. If papers were indeed mailed to my uncle, by prior arrangement (between cooperating and therefore “colluding” parties), they were intercepted by someone else. I once said to Drivon that I doubted that my uncle knew that he was being sued. Larry responded by saying that he would have a hard time believing this. But he offered no evidence to the contrary nor did he mention or produce the one thing that would prove Haig’s knowledge of the suit, the one thing that had to exist were Haig served at all by law by mail (and as suggested to me three years earlier by way of the above-referenced courtesy-copy mailing to me of the unsigned Acknowledgment allegedly on its way to Haig under separate cover). Though I knew, in effect, nothing at the time of my conversation with Drivon about the need for such an Acknowledgement (not recalling the courtesy-copy “phantom mailing” of same that I’d received a year or so earlier as noted above), this would be, of course, said Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt signed by Haig Berberian.1 (Had I recalled the Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt when talking to Larry and asked for a copy, he would have spit and sputtered, stammered and stuttered as he felt the vise close on the cojones for which my business attorney, Rudy Bilawski, had selected him as the trial attorney heading up the litigation side of my case or non-case as the case may have been and ultimately turned out to be) 2
Upon reflection, the law probably requires that Haig Berberian be told if he is sued. And the lack of an Initial/Original Summons served upon him would keep things legal or non-legal, as the case may be. (Opposing Counsel: “Hey, the gentleman was never summoned to court. We didn’t have to tell him a god-damned thing! And we didn’t have to ask him a god-damned thing either!!”–a wink and a nod to Larry Drivon) Just speculation on my part. But it makes sense to me, given the progress and progression of my case or the lack thereof.3 (By the way, regarding this legal matter, from time to time you will find me speaking in the present tense wherein one would think that I should be speaking in the past tense. But obviously, as far as I’m concerned, the case is not closed on my case) As Lt. Columbo would say, “one more thing.” After my father passed away, Haig called my mother and said to her among other things, “let’s let bygones be bygones.”4 These are not the words of someone cognizant of the fact that he is being sued by her son (or threatened with a suit by his brother), even though my mother was not party to my suit nor apprised and aware of whatever it was that my father may have done. Haig would never have called her had he known that his nephew, her son, had sued him.5 But then again, if not in actual fact, perhaps I had sued him theoretically (whatever that may be). And this may be and have been the “escape clause” for this conspiracy between all of the lawyers on both sides (and the judges ruling on the case throughout). Haig did not need to be told, legally speaking.6
Regarding my uncle’s words, I guess that my father could have been considered a “bygone” by his brother at that time. But at that time and thereafter, Haig was facing me. And I mean me.7, 8, 9, 10 No one and nothing else. Fortunately for him, he did not know it.11 Also fortunately for him and unfortunately for me, the “hidden agenda” affecting the course and legal procedure of my case was running interference on Haig’s behalf.12 Of course, Haig did not know this, because, again, as I strongly believe if not know for a fact, he was unaware of my lawsuit altogether.13 The attorneys on both sides had shielded him from anything and everything that would be upsetting, especially those things that had my particular name associated with them and all things that generally had my “brand.”14 All in all, this case is unprecedented.15 I will proceed to tell you why.16
Let us get back to the specific point of there not having been a Original Summons-founded lawsuit filed and served upon Haig Berberian to begin with and the resulting institution (not!) of a suit bound for nowhere.17 If this be the case, all of the judges who ruled on different motions in my case, ruled on a case which theoretically never really happened. The case was void ab initio.18 And it is my theory that if this be true, and as indicated above, they all knew about it.19 Let me amend that statement. Every single last one of the judges who held a hearing and ruled on any matter in my case knew full well what was going on in my manifestly deranged “basket case.”20 And they understood the whys and wherefores of the particular unprecedented civil procedure within (though it is and was “uncivil procedure” to me now that I’ve analyzed and understand it to whatever extent that I do).21 Because the name and reputation of Wells Fargo Bank-San Francisco and its so-called “trust department” were looming large and integrally involved, such a case and its file would be scrutinized with a fine-toothed comb by any San Francisco judge ruling on it. If there was no Original Summons in the file, then the judges were looking the other way, past page one. Opening the file, they saw a sole and lonely complaint, staring them in the face without the partner giving it meaning.22 The marriage is commonly known as a “Summons and Complaint.” What was missing is/was the “Summons on Complaint.” (The Summons likes it on top)
Yes, the lawsuit served a purpose, but not the purpose for which a normal lawsuit is filed on a client’s behalf. Normally, a serious lawsuit with “mean intentions” is filed on the client’s behalf. For three years to the day during which Larry Drivon was my counsel (i.e., from July 8, 1983 when I signed Larry’s contract until July 8, 1986 when the order releasing him as my counsel was entered into the court record), the lawyers on each side were doing the Latin tango in close embrace, head snaps and all. My case was nominal. My lawyers were nominal. Their client, yours truly, was nominal. And all oxymoronic “opposition attorneys” were nominal. All esquires were de facto barristers working on behalf of some purpose attached to whatever this legal, non-legal, or illegal thing was.23 And the nominal judges were making de facto judgments regarding an invisible “great pretender” case; namely, Richard Berberian v. Haig Berberian & Wells Fargo Bank.24 There is something about that Original Summons or the lack thereof. And there is also something about the court’s account of the case history. Take a look at the Automated Court Information System/Register List accounting of my case (pp. 2-3 of the attached pdf). Check out the five years between the filing of my lawsuit on August 30, 1983 and August 5, 1988, the date that my so-called successor counsel signed onto the record. Those years, months, days, and minutes as well, and the document entries belonging and assigned to them, are missing. Yes, these interim documents are listed in the hand entries of the Register of Actions (p. 1 of the attached pdf). But as is the case with the computer log, said register does not contain the time those document entries were filed. And this is very critical when it comes to figuring out the timeline and understanding what in the hell the attorneys in my case were actually up to at pivotal points in time. (A couple of examples are explained in greater detail at 05/30/86 and 06/20/86 on the Timeline, “The Pretend Filing” and “Drivon’s Withdrawal-Supplemental Exhibit,” respectively) I find the absence of five years’ worth of document entries on computer to be curious, to say the least.25 The pretend lawsuit is filed, then fast forward to the new attorney signing on. This kind of curiosity maddens me and makes me mad (emphasis added). I know, I’m supposed to believe that it just so happens that the whole computer accounting/registration system began on August 5, 1988. More likely, the computer system began long before. Without the entry of the date of the initial filing of my complaint (minus a “durable” summons, I should always remember to say), my case would look like it began on August 5, 1988.26 Therefore, minimally, for appearance’ sake, the manipulated clerk at the behest of a mole or the mole him or herself, simply programmed in the original filing of the complaint (but not the summons, mind you) after the fact, retrieving such information from the Register of Actions. If the new computer system did not in fact begin on August 5, 1988, but rather years before, what makes sense is that there was something filed or some activity transpired between the date of the last entry in the Register of Actions, July 28, 1988, and August 5, 1988. What that would be, I haven’t a clue. Larry Drivon was long gone. I had no lawyer at the time. My case was dying on the vine. And there should not have been any activity whatsoever. Nevertheless, perhaps something needed to be secretly expunged from the record for some reason.27 Who knows. (Someone does, even though it’s been a quarter of a century since) In reality, I doubt that there was any such interim activity and expunging thereof.28 But I have to put myself through these analytical exercises and maintain a critical eye on all of the elements of my case (especially its procedural history), because way too many of their details do not pass the smell test and the devil may turn out to be in them. But one thing’s for sure. The gap in the computer records between the filing of my complaint and the new attorney signing on, the bulk of which is comprised of the entire time-period pertaining to Larry Drivon’s record of representation, smells like hell and stinks to high heaven. And it wreaks of the stench of something else going on in a parallel legal world which affected my case from beginning to end, a large portion of which is/was based on the fact that Haig Berberian was not being and had not been summned to court.
Overall, for some purpose, was the San Francisco Superior Court Information System account of my case, tailored to my suit? (pardon the pun) 29 Was it trimmed and shaped to fit with the secret agenda being worn by my lawsuit? Is/was my case that important? Or do other cases filed there have the same exact gap in their histories? For some yet inexplicable reason, was there a mole at work doing this nefarious deed? All that it would take is a couple of pecks on the computer’s “delete” key to make it happen. Were it not for all of the other bizarre “coincidences” that took place in my case, such a curiosity would not be so pronounced and “over-analyzed,” as it were, in my thinking. And there is just too much synchronicity in and around this case to ignore any of it. Just look at the succession of some of the most important events and the documents reflecting their occurrences along with their corresponding dates on the Timeline page. I rest my case.30
With regard to the missing Original Summons and the five-year gap in the computer history of my case, like I said, I strongly believe that a “mole” did indeed exist in the San Francisco County Superior Court judicial system, who was calibrating and synchronizing the computer record of my lawsuit activity to conform with the hidden agenda guiding the suit’s journey and/or vice versa, depending on the time and circumstances. Said mole, he or she, could have been employed anywhere in the courthouse.31 However, for such a grand and glorious deed, the mole had to be extremely discreet and trustworthy. Only a Brother barrister could be trusted with such noble assignments. Perhaps some Brother gave up the practice of law in order to go into the mole business. (Of course, said Brother would keep his or her law license current so he or she, as an Officer of the Court, could slither and slime his or her way into places of trust which would otherwise be inaccessible to him or her for the perpetration of nefarious dirty deeds) Such Brotherhood acts of heroism can be quite lucrative when big people want big things to happen or not to happen in the so-called “justice system.” 32, 33
As a whole, on first appearance, the case-file has the semblance of serious litigation. To use a fancy Latin legal term, prima facie, there is/was a lawsuit instituted on my behalf. Don’t be fooled. Perform a more studied inspection and you will find that there is no there there. Without an Original Summons and without a Notice & Acknowledgement of Receipt signed by the primary defendant (or any defendant for that matter, or a proof of service signed by a process server or sheriff) for said summons (and the original complaint), the case and its file is/was an “empty suit.”34 In other words, and as I have said elsewhere, the lawsuit is “masturbatory litigation” and the lawyers on both sides were doing nothing more than tickling each other’s balls.35
And so, Richard Berberian sues Haig Berberian & Wells Fargo Bank in San Francisco County Superior Court (not!) begins… _______________________________________________________1 Perhaps this is why Larry Drivon’s unsuspecting manipulated secretary, Sheri Navone, called me a couple of months after the suit was filed to ask my uncle’s address? Albeit by a simple first class mailing, so I’d think that shortly, Haig would be served? (I don’t know why she didn’t ask me his name. I mean, you’d think that they’d want to not mail the papers to the right man) Come to think of it, I wrote a serious letter to Drivon in November of 1984 and one of my concerns was the fact that Sheri had called me up to ask where my uncle lived. (Yes, it was a memorable question and I remembered it from about a year or so previously) You’d think that his office would know where Haig lived. I mean, he was being sued, right? Wrong . He was not being sued and that’s why Sheri called me up. Unbeknownst to her, her call to me was a ploy. (No secretary would be in the loop of this kind of legal razzmatazz) I believe that it was in response to my November letter to Larry that he sent me his December 5, 1984 letter of intent to withdraw. (See Timeline at 12/05/84, “Withdrawal Letter of Larry Drivon”) In thinking about the matter, it may have been my reference to Sheri’s call to me regarding my uncle’s address that, for the most part, instigated Larry’s letter of intent to withdraw. You see, I had inadvertently tangentially touched on the most toxic matter involved in the entire shady scheme of my lawsuit. That is, the fact that Haig Berberian was not served with papers and was unaware that he had been sued. And I had unknowingly documented this “secret” in an important letter to Larry, not knowing its significance at the time. But Larry knew. And so did all other Brothers on both sides (as well as all of the black-robed Honorables) involved with the suit whose necks were on the line. And now you know as well. (Beware, this analysis was hatched within the mind of someone who some would have you think and believe is crazy. Berberian Mystery Theatre and time will tell) By the way, if I ever hit the lotto, I will offer a $1,000,000 reward to anyone who can prove with authenticating documentation that Haig Berberian knew that he was sued by Richard Berberian. I must say that producing a Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt might not necessarily do the trick. Rudy Bilawski, my business attorney, who had recently withdrawn from my case (September 28, 1984,l to be exact), once told me that he signs all sorts of things at his law firm without reading them, because he trusts whoever is placing the documents before him. This would also be true of an elderly sickly man who might be signing several business and Last Will-related documents placed before him by those he trusts. If such Acknowledgment were shown to me, I would be inclined to believe me and my mind rather than my lying eyes. There is just too much evidence that Haig Berberian was clueless in this regard. And there is not a shred of evidence to the contrary. Nevertheless, despite what I just said about authenticity, I defy anyone to show me a bona fide Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt bearing Haig Berberian’s signature. (Let me add that I would pay an additional $1,000,000 to anyone who could produce an “echt” document proving once and for all that Haig Berberian’s Thirteenth Affirmative Defense, res judicata, raised on Friday the 13th of July, 1984, is/was a legitimate legal defense. Res judicata? Say what?! My legal matter was settled sometime past? In which court was my matter settled? In which city was my matter settled? When was my matter settled? Why was my matter settled? Who settled the matter for me and who were the parties to the judgment in addition to me? Oh, and I guess I should ask: “Where’s the money?”) 2 Not serving the lawsuit on Haig Berberian explains the attorney behavior in this matter. It also explains why the civil procedure in my case proceeded as it did. And it largely resolves the issue of my behavior throughout. If my uncle was unaware that he had been sued, there had to be a hidden agenda involved. Why else would Larry not serve my uncle? (With papers, that is) I knew that a co-agenda existed. (My psychiatrist said as much. Or almost as much) A competing parallel agenda was not a figment of my overwrought imagination. I smelled said prejudicial parti pris plan and it stunk to high heaven. And it drove me crazy in two ways. It drove me nuts in the proverbial sense. And it had me questioning my sanity. Yes, despite every confidence I had that it was real. (For understanding, see Timeline at 07/06/96, “The Hypocratic Doctor,” and elsewhere herein and here-out throughout Berberian Mystery Theatre) The secret agenda was a danger to the health of my lawsuit (duh) and it was therefore a danger to me. This is why I attached myself to a take-no-prisoners “no compromise” mind-set with regard to my lawsuit. I wanted a trial or at least to take the case to the courthouse steps. I knew that going into court or being serious about it would expose the deep dark secrets involved in my family’s entire legal matter. And that’s why I didn’t get to go to court. I got to go nowhere. 3 What also makes perfect sense to me (in fact I’d swear by it), and what should make sense to you, is my analysis of Larry Drivon’s Letter of Intent to Withdraw from my case. (See Timeline at 12/5/84, “Withdrawal Letter of Larry Drivon”) The reason why Larry did not want Judge Raymond Daniel Williamson Jr. to officially see his withdrawal letter prior to the hearing is as follows. On Page 2 of Larry’s letter, he states: As soon as we have Haig’s [lawyers’]answers back, the next step would be to schedule Haig’s deposition in this matter [don’t you wish and in your dreams] and then force the matter as quickly as possible to trial [in Never Never Land]. It is not my desire to see your [phantasmal] litigation languish or go by the wayside [until after I’ve withdrawn and no other Brother will touch your imaginary case]. I believe that you will be well served by our making this decision at this time [to withdraw from a case that really does not exist] instead of waiting until we are farther down the line [playing footsie with Haig’s lawyers] and additional tactical decisions have been made which might be different than those made by another firm [which is presently] handling this matter [for your father]. Should you require and request assistance in locating another attorney, I will be more than happy to do whatever I can [to make sure that does not happen]. I will help you in any way that I can consistent with the decision of this office to obviate [and obfuscate] the successful completion of this [masturbatory litigation] matter on your behalf. Yes, for the fun of it, I read between the lines (or between the words, to be precise) and added some wording. But I did not delete, change, or rearrange any of Larry’s words. The syntax remains untouched. Remove the bracketed wording and you’ve got pure Larry, word for word. (Therefore, I read between the words, simultaneously reading Larry’s mind.In addition to all of my other talents, I’m a mental telepathist)Six weeks after Larry sent this letter to me, my father died. Contrary to the words and concerns in his letter, Larry stayed on my case for an additional one and a halfyears. He kicked the can down the road, the can being his withdrawal. It is my belief that it was my father’s death that necessitated Larry’s stay. During that additional eighteen months on my case, Larry hadgotten Haig’s answers back on the interrogatories. But Larry did not “schedule Haig’s deposition.” Larry spoke withonly two potential successor attorneys, meeting with only one. And Larry neither “force[d] the matter asquickly as possible to trial” nor did he force the matter in any way, shape or form. Why not? To force the answer to this question as quickly as possible into cyberspace, let me say that Larry was accommodating a parallel case in a parallel legal venue. That’swhy not. And this other thing out there in legal la la land haunted me and my case from start to finish. It still haunts me to this day. This was and is hardball, folks. Things go on behind the legal scenes in big cases that most people involved never smell. And if they do get a whiff of something untoward, they are not allowed into the loop and are never clued in by the putrid Brother who is stinking up their case. Therefore, the client never comprehends whatever it is that smells like a cross between feces and vomit. In hardball cases, lawyers (and judges) unrelentingly do anything and everything in order to accomplish their goal. It does not matter who gets hurt. In my case, of course, I got hurt. The matter was ruining my life as the players played their game. I was collateral damage. None of the players gave a shit. Therefore, once again, I give you Berberian Mystery Theatre, each and every document posted and each and every thing that I say in regard thereto is my giving a shit that the other players failed and refused to give. 4 (I guess that these words were Haig’s version of, “am I my brother’s keeper.” My father was his brother’s keeper until the day my father died) One of my biggest mistakes was not being tougher on and more confrontational with my father. (Woulda, shoulda, coulda) Once my head was screwed on reasonably straight and I was on the verge of filing suit, instead of proceeding with the filing of my lawsuit and telling him afterwards, I should have advised him a few days before. He would have been emotionally compelled to ask me not to do so. He’d probably have had to just squeal like a stuck pig. Why? Because he’d have been forced to provide a reason for me not to move forward with the suit. And that he would not do. Or after not having given me a good enough reason (one that made sense, legally and otherwise), I could have asked him to accompany me to Larry Drivon’s office so he could personally ask Larry not to file suit on my behalf and provide Larry a good enough reason not to do so. I would have had my father in a chokehold. Of course, in reality, this could never have happened. He would have checked with his people and they would have reassured him beforehand (rather than after, as the case turned out to be), that my suit was some kind of precaution, though they wouldn’t have worded it that way. (It’s also called a “ruse,” depending on who’s doing the looking) Why wouldn’t he be told outright? Because he wasn’t in the loop about my suit. His initial reaction is the defining evidentiary indication about this. He was only minimally aware of the strategy in his own matter at the time, and he was probably unaware of just what was happening there as well. Knowing only that activity and negotiations were taking place somewhere, he was on stand-by waiting for a call. (Like I was prior to my filing suit. Neither of us got that call) Regarding my father’s reaction to my suit and pleading with me to drop it, before he could reach whoever his people were (and it was probably just one contact, one Brother who was selected for his or her expertise in handling people such as my father, though he was one of a kind in the coward department), my father would have given himself away, revealing to me that obviously he had a secret agenda. He was not a good actor when he was in a state of fear. He shook like a leaf. And he certainly would have been unable to call me “crazy” and get away with it. And he probably knew it by now. As far as assurance from my people to me that “everything’s gonna be alright,” instead, I had a business attorney who, upon withdrawal, courtesy-copied my psychiatrist implying that I had mental issues causing problems and therefore he was withdrawing. And I had a trial lawyer who upon his withdrawal, attached to his moving papers, an angry letter of mine, making me look like a madman. That’s what I got from the two of them. And from The Doctor, my psychiatrist at the time, Arnold A. Sheuerman, Jr., M.D. of Stockton, Califonia, I got guessing games and head games and the opportunity to be terrorized by deep dark lies by my father and the mysterious legal matter as a whole, transforming what should have been comforting psychological and legal help into an emotionally debilitating psychodrama. In return for their favors, all that I’ve got to offer them is Berberian Mystery Theatre. (You guys, enjoy ) 5 This matter was essentially handled the way the U.S. government builds and assembles top secret weapons and planes. The various parties building and assembling different parts of the weapon or plane only know what they themselves are doing. They don’t know what the other parties and people in other cities and states are doing regarding the game plan and how their assigned part of the project will come together and be assembled in and into its finished form. They may not even know just what part of the whole they themselves have before them and are building, using their given directions, their mind and their own two hands. In my family’s legal matter, my father and I and to a far lesser degree, my uncle, knew what we were doing individually. But we didn’t know what the other two in the trinity/triumvirate were doing. My father did not know that I was going to file suit. And I didn’t have a clue what he had done prior to my filing suit (and thereafter, for that matter). And I had no idea what, if anything, my uncle knew and was doing with respect to the legal matter during the time that he was alive. After my uncle had passed and probate was opened, it was then that I found out that he had signed and dated his Last Will on September 28, 1984, the same day that Rudy Bilawski had withdrawn from my case verbally by phone, and then dating his withdrawal letter same, September 28, 1984. But I had no clue as to the motive and strategy behind this “coordinated coincidence.” And this is a preeminent shining example of the ignorance by the participating parties about how the various elements in the equation of the legal matter fit together. I’m sure that Haig Berberian had never heard of Rudy Bilawski and my lawsuit and he had no clue that his signing his Last Will was synchronized with any matter connected to me and/or my father. I am positive, however, that Rudy Bilawski was well-aware of the coincidental signings as did Haig Berberian’s lawyers. The attorneys on all sides knew everything that was going on at all times (relegating their clients in the meantime to playing a cross between Tiddlywinks, Blind Man’s Bluff and Parcheesi, with a pinch of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, at least in the case of me and my father, even though such was the sure path to war between the two of us that this “you shall know nothing”-treatment inevitably became). Heaven forbid that the “pawns” should know what the hell was going on during this incestuous game of cat and mouse, catch me if you can, that the attorneys were playing. (Actually, if they caught each other, they would embrace out of love for their Brothers in law: “I love you, Bro-Bro. Coochie-coochie-coo”) It is a thrill to me now that potentially millions of people will get to know the character and nature of the players manipulating their cat’s-paws in this prearranged, preplanned, pre-decided-upon, end-run game of “legal chess.” Nonetheless, as far as I know, nothing has come together as a result of the September 28, 1984 “synchronicity.” There may have been a virtual stalemate. (The lawyers hugging each other oh so tight) I do know that the two brothers Berberian reaped the benefits of their individual and cumulative participation in the matter. My father got the screwing that he wanted and my uncle unknowingly screwed his brother by virtue of the stolen assets that he was allowed to continue to keep. And I do know that I got shafted as a result. But that’s okay. I am still in the assembling stage of my participation in the “game(s) that lawyers play,” which is not over. (See Berberian Mystery Theatre).-“My day is on its way.” 6 I have a story that should end any and all doubt that there was a conspiracy between my father and whoever was representing him before, during, and after the time that my so-called lawsuit was supposedly instituted. This story, if true (and it is), makes the case for my father having a secret legal agenda (and maybe an illegal one by those representing that agenda) inarguable. Said account should bring to a screeching halt any notion that my suit was a serious effort and could be taken at face value. It should also stop dead in its tracks the fantasy that my father did not make any moves that could have killed my case. Give me a minute on the actual story itself. I want to preface it by stating that a conspiracy would necessarily have had to exist because whoever had my father’s signature (and someone did indeed have some form of my father’s power of attorney), knew about my rights, my own discovery of the fraud, and my eventual lawsuit. And they should have been compelled by law to tell me what they were doing, because their actions would affect the course of my lawsuit which had virtually the same causes of action as my father’s. His case superceded mine since my father was the Grantor of the trust giving me my power to act, although my case was intentionally defectively instituted (i.e., no Original Summons) and defectively prosecuted (no service of process of any kind whatsoever on the primary defendant). Of course, the latter could be the catch. My father’s counsel may not have had a statutory obligation to tell me what they were up to because I did not have a legitimate lawsuit on file. The likely wink-and-nod scenario would be that they looked at the case-file, saw that it was incorrectly instituted and legally defective, that there was no evidence that Haig Berberian had been served with papers of any kind whatsoever, and therefore, they carried on with their clandestine “negotiations” or whatever it was that they were doing on the q.t. on my father’s behalf in conjunction with whatever it was that opposing counsel were doing on the q.t. on Haig Berberian’s behalf. (More tricks of the attorney trade, folks, though this one is undoubtedly the first of its kind. You won’t find this one anywhere in the books or anywhere else for that matter. I’d stake my life on it. I have staked my life on it) Additionally, does anyone think that my father would not tell his handlers about my lawsuit after he learned of its existence, especially if they were coy, playing dumb, and were to claim that this was the first that they’d heard of it? (Oh, I’d love to have been a fly on the wall or a bug in the phone). And my lawyers did not inform them? This would necessarily have been the case, because, for obvious reasons, my lawyers could not admit that they knew what my father had done. (The assumption here is that my father was not in a legally vacuum-sealed gravity-less bubble wherein once he had given his power of attorney to some Brother or some law firm somewhere, perhaps even out-of-state, it was not a case wherein his counsel said: “Don’t call us, we’ll call you when it’s all over. There shall be no contact whatsoever between us during the interim. We now walk in your shoes and own your case and the causes of action that go with it until the matter is decidedly resolved and thereby settled once and for all and forever”) I believe that whoever was handling things for my father knew darn well that my lawsuit existed and whatever the soul of it was. As indicated above, my father was very upset about it, and relatively quickly, he calmed down. Why the quick recovery? Because he told his counsel about my suit and in so many words they told him not to worry about the (phony bologna) lawsuit, that whatever he had done through them still legally superseded my suit. Otherwise, he would never have calmed down about my suit. However, his handlers knew from day one what was going on. All sides were together in agreement, cooperating in a collective effort to settle the matter, even if some shouting was going on behind closed doors. (I do not say and have never meant to imply that all in-the-loop parties were singing Kumbaya) I do want to add that it is my belief that my father could have told me what he himself had done. His lawyers did not tell him to withhold the information from me. Why? Because they knew that my lawyers had technically not filed a serious suit on my behalf and as a result, technically, his case and mine were not “legally” at odds with one another. Practically, operationally, and apparently to me, yes. (Two cases with the same defendants and virtually identical causes of action, one case going to court [albeit in pussyfoot manor and twinkle toes style] and the other case whose only agenda was trying to settle matters out of court, though seemingly going in opposite directions, are actually on a collision course. And it’s no game of chicken. One butts the other into oblivion, dislodging and displacing it into an extrajudicial parallel legal universe there out there somewhere. The latter is where my case ended up and my father’s case was the cause of the legal or non-legal, yet silent, brouhaha) All lawyers knew that the legal mix was one where my father was forced, for whatever reasons, to remain silent about what he did, and afraid to tell me. I believe that the main reason my father could not and would not tell me what he had done is because he had lied to me left and right during the initial stages of his “masturbatory” legal move (and thereafter for that matter). His thorough and blatantly deceitful behavior with respect to me (or better yet said, without respect to me) prohibited him emotionally and psychologically from coming clean later on down the line. He just did not have the guts to tell me. This would necessarily have been the case because, whatever he did legally (that is, by way of attorneys) came after his initial volley of lies to me. I believe that my lawyers were in the same boat. They were not as deceitful as my father, but they knew what he had done and they did not tell me. If it wasn’t a formal action in a court of law, they had legal cover. However, my lawyers were morally and ethically obligated to tell me what it is/was that might have come to their attention regarding my father’s activities outside of court involving legal counsel. As I said, such activities would adversely affect my legal action, because his case as a whole superseded mine. But not procedurally and operationally if my father’s counsel did not know that the counsel they were dealing with were also dealing with my counsel. Of course, known to my father’s counsel or not, if such a sticky incest-laden situation posed a legal problem, the most likely scenario would then be that Haig Berberian had two different law firms dealing with my father’s counsel and mine respectively or separately or whatever the case may be. (I’m glad I got that straightened out. What a tangled web they weaved. Or is it me who is tangled in paranoia when the simple truth based on reality is: “My father dropped his case. My lawyers dropped me. End of story.” This is what all of the lawyers that I know who were connected to the case, would have me believe. How about you?) At a minimum, whoever my father’s lawyers were, had they been aware of my case, they would have been ethically obligated to warn my father how his secrecy and lying would affect me psychologically and legally. They should especially have come clean with me directly or through my counsel about my father’s lawyer-handled activities with Haig’s lawyers after my father died. (Before and after my father’s demise, to no avail, I did my best to find out what he had done. In due course, I will post the pertinent documentation in this regard) All in all, what we have here are a bunch of piano players in a whorehouse. No one knew what was going on upstairs, downstairs, in the basement, nor down the hall regarding any one of the other whores in the house. Even among the prostituting pianists themselves, although they were playing the same tune in the same room at the same time, they didn’t know shit from shinola regarding what each other was doing. They were all deaf, dumb and blind. That is, legally and otherwise, when it came to me. Finally, what’s this earthshaking revelatory story of mine regarding “conspiracy” that I mentioned and then postponed at the outset of the present commentary? Thanks for asking. Here goes. One awful day, after I had instituted suit (not), my father and I had a meeting with Larry Drivon and Rudy Bilawski at Drivon’s office. After the meeting and as my father and I were leaving, someone said something about Haig. I neither recall what was said nor by whom. It may not have been negative, but I’m sure that it wasn’t positive. Such is neither here nor there. What matters is/was what my father said in response thereto: “I love my brother.” (Say what?!) Almost simultaneously, Larry retorted: “You’ll have a hard time telling that to a jury.” (This comment should have scared the shit out of my father. But it didn’t, because my father knew that my suit was bound for nowhere. Drivon would never ever have said this to my father if my father didn’t already know that my case was never going to go to court. Had my father not known this, such a comment by Drivon would have crippled my father emotionally. He would have gone into a catatonic state. He would have been that scared. I was the one in the dark. Eventually going out of my mind) I should have smacked my father in the face then and there. (Not just for that comment, but his treating me abominably during the entire course of his involvement in both of our legal cases. Further description of my father’s egregious deceitful behavior is discussed in various portions of The Hypocratic Doctor and Interrogatories at 07/06/1996 & 09/13/1984 respectively on the Timeline page) My father’s comment was sick and such was implied in Larry’s perfectly applicable yet phony retort. I say, “phony retort,” because there were never any plans for any trial nor jury nor anything else legally visible to my naked eye which would involve my father, including Larry’s non-intention to take my father’s deposition as my star witness, or as an adverse witness (or possibly even a hostile witness), as the case would have been had Larry taken it. I do give Larry kudos for his quick response to and “pitch” for my father’s comment. I was impressed. A lesser lawyer would not have been as quick and probably wouldn’t have had such perfect words for the occasion. Regarding my father’s remark, I bit my tongue and left it at Larry’s response. No comment from me and I played nice. Folks, nice does not work. Nice did not work. Not in my relationship with my father. Not in my father’s relationship with his BINO (brother in name only). Even though my father was a puffball, the lawyers were engineering the game, and they were playing hardball. By my father’s “loving his brother,” he would proceed to sentence me to three decades in hell. If my father’s comment, within the legal landscape that I have been describing throughout this chapter and website as a whole, does not boost the credibility of my conspiracy theory into “beyond a reasonable doubt-land,” then nothing will. I could go on and on about why my father’s sick comment does not make sense in the context of my legal case or his for that matter. (That is, unless he loved his BINO more than he did me. And this is/was possibly the case. Actions speak louder than words, folks. My father never said that he loved me. Therefore, both my father’s words and actions evidenced the love that he had for his BINO. Pathetic and sick. My father loved being screwed by his BINO. That’s what he loved) It goes without saying that most of what I could say in this regard is obvious and the reader does not need my analysis and explanation. I’ll just say, my father was indeed up to something and his love-my-brother comment implies that my UINO (uncle in name only) did not know that he was being (not) sued by me. In Haig Berberian’s eyes and mind, a suit filed by me would be considered a suit filed by my father. Deep down, my father had to know this. And because of the ongoing hidden agenda involving my father and some law firm, some way, somehow, my father thought that his BINO was in the process of making amends. And my UINO must have known that his BINO had stopped me from suing. More likely, however, my UINO did not know that his NINO [nephew in name only] had filed a LINO [lawsuit in name only] against him. My FINO (father in name only) was wrong about his BINO making amends unless making amends means and meant getting screwed by him one last time, bigger and better than ever and forever. It does not take three decades to make amends. (If so, unprecedented Guinness Book territory for the “wheels of justice.” How about this: “All good things to those who wait.” Well, I’m waiting. And building Berberian Mystery Theatre in the meantime) It also does not take four years, the time-span during which my FINO was alive after he discovered fraud, for his BINO to do the right thing, even if these things just inch along and inch along, especially when they’re trying to get twenty-one different lawyers from four different cities together into the same room at the same time, as my PINO (psychiatrist in name only), Arnold A. Sheuerman, Jr., once stated to meback in the day. (And what a piece of shit he was. See Timeline at 07/06/96, “The Hypocratic Doctor”) Legally-speaking, Vasken G. Berberian was a dead man walking from September 2, 1980, the day that he discovered fraud, to January 24, 1985, the day that he dropped dead. Regarding everything about this legal matter from beginning to end, my FINO was dead wrong. You see, simple as pie, all he had to do was to recount to an attorney all that he could remember which was pertinent regarding his business relationship with his BINO, honestly and thoroughly answer all of his counsel’s questions, and then, with his signed, sealed and delivered (without any provisos) durable irrevocable power of attorney “coupled with an interest” in the case for his lawyer, say: “I want the assets that you determine should be my family’s. Go get it for us, period.”-End of story. 7 I was always wary of my uncle after I was old enough to understand who he was. (Granted, my view of him had been affected by what my father told me. And that would be a biased reckoning) This would be, I suppose, during my early twenties and on up until all of this big legal mess came about. Haig Berberian was a very cold, serious, somber man. He was also slow-speaking, à la Alfred Hitchcock. I remember that Haig used to watch him on television. It is no surprise that Haig liked the macabre. He was also a very self-righteous man who used to preach about morality and values and how to live life. All-in-all, one could say that he had a Messiah complex. (My father certainly feared him as if he were God Almighty) And he had absolutely no sense of humor.-None. If I had to find an analogous demeanor to his, if not a similar personality, it would be Bela Lugosi as Count Dracula (who scared the shit out of me as a kid). And I do not say this in jest. That is who my uncle reminded me of subconsciously and now consciously. His intelligence, will, and his power, were to be respected if not feared. My father was deathly afraid of him because of his menace, money and power, and Haig’s ease and adeptness at using all three. Haig sucked the blood from my father and ruined his life. Of course, Haig could do this only because my father allowed him to do so. Once I found out that Haig (with the help of his diabolical accountant, Peter B. Jeppson) had also sucked the life out of my trust (aided and abetted as well by Wells Fargo Bank-Trustee), I was no longer afraid of the man. I’d learned that I was better than him. And in a letter to Rudy Bilawski early on (and thereafter for that matter), I proceeded to size my uncle up as a five-foot three-inch “piece of shit.” (I will post said letter in due course) I also stated in the letter to Rudy that my opinion of Haig Berberian was “just between the two of us.” But the implication was that my description (along with whatever other character traits go along with being a “piece of shit”) would not be kept to myself if Haig’s wrongdoings were not addressed properly and atoned for. For five point five years, I remained mum. Didn’t tell a single soul aside from my now ex-wife. I kept the matter close to the vest and under my hat. My lips were sealed. Emphasis added. (No one can keep a secret better than I or me, whichever it is. And there is no one who can splatter secrets throughout the universe better than me or I or whoever I am, an “I” or a “me.”-See Berberian Mystery Theatre and the contents thereof) When it became clear beyond any reasonable doubt that the matter was indeed neither legally taken care of by my father and his people nor by my lawyers, a big-mouth whistleblower I became. And that is who I am today. Berberian Mystery Theatre is an exposé of not only who Haig Berberian was (and still is via the legal wake that he left behind), but the nature of all of the rest of the players, most of whom also proved to be “pieces of shit.” If it is not evident one way or another already, time will tell if over the years while interfacing with the various bottom-dwelling scumbag players, this player became a “piece of shit” as well. (“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster…for when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”-Friedrich Nietzsche) 8 I do have a couple of good things to say about my uncle, which I may as well throw into the mix. He had a very polite demeanor and was therefore likeable in this way. There wasn’t much to dislike about him at all on the surface. Another thing, a big thing, much more so than other wealthy people who remain humble, he wasn’t a show-off with his money. He wasn’t ostentatious at all. Despite his accumulating hundreds of millions of dollars, he remained in the same relatively modest house in Modesto until his dying day. He did drive a Cadillac, changing it every couple of years. But no fancy clothes. He bought his attire at Bullock & Jones in San Francisco. The clothes might have been pricey, but they were conservative and understated. Black, dark blue, and dark brown suits. And no jewelry aside from a watch, a plain watch. Now me, I’d have been wearing a fancy top-of-the-line Rolex and clothes to die for, driving a Maserati, and living in a 15,000 square foot mansion (all in order to make others feel inferior and envious). 9 Despite all of the ranting and raving herein that I do about my father (born on December 25, 1908, the 7th son of a 7th son [unless he lied to me, which would be par for the course]), I can also say that he was a good man. (My problem with him is restricted to his behavior in just the subject legal matter with respect to me, or better said, without respect to me) My father was very generous for one thing and he had a good heart. I’ll cite just one example. My father used to love to go to the horse races. Many times, he took a couple of employees with him. What my father would do is buy more than one ticket on horses he liked. When he won, he’d give a winning ticket to each of the employees he was with, saying that he’d bought them a ticket too. When he lost, he’d discard the losing tickets quietly and say nothing. That was my father. But there is one memory that I have about him which, when recalled, always causes melancholy lamentation within me. In 1971-1972, when our family business was being sold, with help from Peter Jeppson, Haig Berberian withheld about $600,000 from my father’s share of the profits from selling the name and goodwill of the business. I had come back from college not too long before and was pretty much a head case. I had a breakdown (nka, a “major depressive episode”) in the midst of the tumult, chaos and confusion of the 60’s. I was only 21 years old at the time, still trying to recover from the breakdown, just trying to make it through each day. But I remember my father reading to me portions of his business contract with Haig, looking up at me (he was stooped over and I was standing), pleading with me to understand enough to render my opinion on the matter. He asked me to read it myself as well. But I didn’t know shit from Shinola then. I wasn’t intellectually equipped enough to analyze what he read or I read and render an opinion on business/contract stuff. (Still true of me) I think I just stood there with a blank barren look on my face. But the look on my father’s stress-pained face, I can recall vividly. So desperate that he was imploring me to help him. He could think of no one else to turn to. There was no taking it to a lawyer. In my father’s mind, Armenians don’t do that. Brothers from the old country don’t do that, Haig being the older brother. (This, despite the fact that Haig’s lawyers were the ones who drew up the contract that my father signed, the source of his anguish, an important element in the matter at hand of which my father was not mindful and bearing in mind) My father’s pain was so awful. (This entire matter is so awful) On top of this, my father was ill at the time. (I go into detail of his illness elsewhere within this site) My father was such a good man. The pain and agony that Haig and Jeppson caused my father when he was ill (and part of his illness may have been precipitated by Haig and Jeppsons’ treachery) is almost unfathomable to me. So cruel and inhumane. It doesn’t matter that it happened forty years ago. The parties involved (more than just the two that I’ve mentioned) have not atoned for it and never will. That is something that is just not going to happen. But I’ve taken it upon myself to expose their callous cold-blooded hard-hearted malicious treatment of my father in as many ways as I can, Berberian Mystery Theatre being the best exposé of the bunch. I understand it now. It is the product of behavior that is/was evil.-Some wonder, after all of this time, what drives me in this matter. There are other reasons. This is just one in the myriad. 10 One more thing about my father. He saved the life of an employee, Frank Sabala. Sabala was a forklift operator working in a warehouse when no one else was around. I believe it was on a Sunday, or maybe it was a Saturday afternoon. My father happened to drive to the warehouse for something and found Frank slumped over the steering wheel of the forklift. The exhaust fumes had evidently gotten to Frank. I guess it was in a small area. My father pulled Frank off the lift and revived him some way. No big deal to my father. Had it been Haig who had done the good deed, the Modesto Bee would have been notified right away. It is hard to think of Haig as a hero. One time, Haig had climbed up a ladder to survey the top of one of the buildings for some reason. But he was afraid to come down. The fire department had to be called and Haig was carried down. I don’t say this with any venom. It is amusing. But Haig would never see the humor in it. That is who Haig was. No sense of humor whatsoever. And self-deprecating humor would be something from some other planet. At the same time, I know that people are who they are. Haig was old-fashioned, from the old country. This incident just doesn’t fit into the funny category for him, even were it someone else. I understand. (See? I’m not so bad afterall) 11 Hindsight tells me that other than me, everyone involved did not want Haig Berberian, an elderly sickly man, to know that I had sued him. (Not serving him with papers sounded like a plan to them, I’m sure. And without an Initial Summons on file, all of the lawyers involved could have played “This Little Piggy Went to Market” with each other) I’d like to add an addendum to the statement prior to my parenthetical one. I would like Haig Berberian to have known about my lawsuit not as revenge. It was the only way to truly force the issue. I believe that history bears this out. Therefore, I was robbed of the chance for Haig Berberian to have pushed for a settlement. And he was robbed as well for that matter. Of course, Haig’s immediate family would not have wanted him to know that I sued him. If my father had anything to say about it, he would want the matter handled this way as well. My best guess is that my father would not be told that his brother was unaware of my lawsuit. Such knowledge on my father’s part would render the entire legal matter fissionable. He could not be trusted to not tell me, for if he did, there would have been a legal meltdown and an atomic explosion to go with it that would have wiped every involved legal player off the face of the legal/judicial map. I had my finger on that nuclear button. The Brotherhood, which includes the judges involved, and the justice system as a whole, would never have been the same. To my way of thinking, this is why my case is and was so mysterious, dark and “radioactive.” Necks were on the line. Careers and reputations were on the line. They still are, because the above scenario did in fact happen. And The Brotherhood should still be worried about my activities. Especially what appears in Berberian Mystery Theatre. The right lawyer studying this exposé on my behalf would be the wrong person studying it in The Brotherhood’s view and rightly so. I am asking one heroic Brother to step forward. But I am not holding my breath. Speculating further, obviously my father would believe that Haig knew about my suit after it was allegedly instituted and allegedly served. However, my father would never have been told that (minus an Original Summons), the suit was defectively filed and therefore, theoretically, it was not filed at all. At a minimum, it would be inconsequential. And since the lines of communication between the two brothers Berberian had been cut off several years before and also since Haig knew only that my father had sought counsel without filing suit (a topic that I address in further commentary below), my father would not learn that Haig was never served with my lawsuit (the lack of a Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt anywhere in evidence), nor would he learn that Haig was even totally unaware of my “theoretical” lawsuit’s existence. Only Brothers (in law) were to know this (not meaning the two brothers Berberian). But now I know, after thirty-some years of studying and thinking about the matter. (Okay, so I’m no genius. You see, the whole history and procedure of my case could revolve around an initial agreement by all involved attorneys, ratified by Haig’s heirs, that if Haig would be spared knowledge of my lawsuit, which legally had to be filed [for reasons still unbeknownst to me], and with some other initial agreed-upon mutual guarantees, the matter could and would be settled somehow, some way, somewhere over the rainbow. Some day. I’m still waiting) With a meeting of the minds, the attorneys on both sides would engineer the case to spare Haig not only for the benefit of his health, but because things would be cleaner this way. It makes sense to simply (or even complicatedly) “go to the books” and keep all of the complex thorny relationship issues between the two elderly brothers from The Old Country out of it. (The assumption here is that my father was by necessity the most important witness in my case. Also implied is the fact that Haig’s looting of partnership assets was motivated by more than just greed. It was born out of sickness and a visceral deep-seated hatred for his brother) Therefore, the rules of engagement would be to go straight to the books. There would be no legally-founded lawsuit (i.e., no Original Summons filed, or if filed, to remain on file), no service of process on Haig Berberian, and no depositions of the two brothers Berberian. Additionally, yours truly, Richard Berberian, would be kept in total ignorance as to what was actually transpiring before, during, after, and around his phony lawsuit. I was on a need-to-know basis from beginning to end and it was decided at the outset that I did not need to know a damn thing. (However, I do not believe that my father was muted by anyone or anything other than the noose that he himself had hung around his own neck. Therefore, he too could not and would not tell me a damn thing after having lied to me so irreverently about the matter for so many years) This scenario would also spare Haig’s heirs the knowledge as to what kind of a man Haig really was. Were they shown the evidence, they wouldn’t believe it anyway. One does not need to look at the books or anything else to know the gravity of the looting and larceny. All one has to know is that a fire of “suspicious origin” broke out at Atherton, Ludlow & Schonhoff shortly before Haig’s accountant, Peter B. Jeppson, fled to Bedford, Texas. This was about eighteen months prior to my filing suit. The fire was cited by the accounting firm as the excuse or reason why they would not or could not produce the only documents that I know of which they were asked to produce in my case. This is all one needs to know about the guilt or innocence of Team Haig Berberian. And no, I don’t think that Haig knew about the pending fire. He wasn’t guilty of that. But he was guilty of hiring the whore (and big fat pig with continuously batting-blinking eyes) who did know about it (Jeppson) and probably personally executed the dirty deed to keep Team Haig Berberian’s red hot “innocence” a possibility in any developing legal picture. It is too bad that I was not trusted to be in the loop with regard to my own case. Maybe I too could have been a good guy, sparing Haig. (And sparing me three decades of grief, necessitating the building of this website) I was never given the chance. I remember back in 1978 or 1979 when I was driving with a friend through my parent’s neighborhood, which was also Haig’s neighborhood, I saw an ambulance down the street in front of my uncle’s house. I sped to my parent’s home, called my aunt and asked if there was a problem. She said that there was. I asked if she needed a ride to the hospital. She said that she did. I drove to her house, picked her up, and drove her to the hospital. Then she told me that it would be better if Haig did not see me there. She said that it might upset him. (It makes me a bit sick to say this, but I’ll say it anyway. Symbolically speaking, perhaps my presence in my uncle’s neighborhood that night was sensed prior to the infarcire) At the time, I did not know why a simple lift to the hospital would be a problem. I knew that Haig didn’t have any use for me, a bum, so to speak, back then. (Well, not really. I was working, but I was not business material) Later, I would find out that my aunt thought that it was her neighbor who had called and offered her the ride. I guess that the commotion had her confused. Anyway, I left her there at the hospital after she assured me that she’d be okay. I then sped home and called a cousin who in turn informed Haig’s heirs that there had been a medical emergency regarding Haig. I guess that at that time, I knew that I shouldn’t call Haig’s heirs directly. I can’t remember exactly why, because the bad blood between the two brothers Berberian was not etched into my psyche. In fact, the heirs called my father about the emergency the next day. Certainly, there were no hard feelings on my part toward any of my uncle’s family. But, upon my uncle’s orders, the two sides of the family were not associating anymore. I remember telling my psychiatrist, Dr. Arnold A. Sheuerman, Jr., during my next visit, that I felt bad for my aunt and uncle, two old people who don’t bother nor hurt anyone, having to deal with old age and ill health by themselves. (The heirs live in a different city) There was no antagonism in me toward my uncle until I found out a year or so later that my trust account had been defrauded and egregiously so. Before that, to me, there were just these stories about my father being weak with his brother regarding money that was my father’s which my uncle kept or wanted to keep and which my father knew about. It wasn’t my business and it wasn’t my money. (And why I just told this story, I haven’t a clue. But it came to mind and there it is, for what it’s worth) Getting back on point, due to the deceit of the attorneys and the other players including my father and indeed Dr. Sheuerman as well (see Timeline at 07/06/96, “The Hypocratic Doctor”), I jumped ugly on all of them. And rightly so. I developed daggers. Some remain to this day. Most are in remission. But they could grow back on a moment’s notice. It all depends on what the next thirty-some years’ worth of moments have in store for me. 12 Even though I have said as much in other words previously, this might be a good place to mention that it is part of my hidden agenda theory that my whole case was framed around two brothers (one, a witness, Vasken G. “Jim” Berberian-my father, and one, a defendant, Haygaz G. “Haig” Berberian-my uncle), both of whom were not going to be formally deposed nor called into court. In a meeting of the minds and together in agreement, the lawyers on both sides had to tippy-toe around the dispositions (and avoid any formal depositions) of the two Armenian brothers. (At least, they weren’t going to be deposed by opposing counsel, though “opposing counsel” is an oxymoron in this case) Unfortunately, my lawsuit was caught up on the outside looking in. Or more accurately, my suit was on the inside looking out, being that there was something going on outside of its parameters adversely affecting its course. There was a huge quagmire here and all I could do was sense its presence without really understanding. The entire matter was Brotherhood-organized chaos. On my side, Larry Drivon and Rudy Bilawski were well aware of this cul-de-sac or maze or whatever metaphor fits. It goes without saying that they were part of the whole thing. Which means, of course, that I said it anyway. And I’ll say it again. Their actions and inactions are overt symptoms. (“Obviate” is a good word to describe Drivon’s role. “Malarkey” is the right word to describe Bilawski’s role. In order to get the gist of what I mean, one must become familiar with the intro to the 06/20/86 “Supplemental Exhibit” and that of the 09/28/84 “Rudy Bilawski’s Withdrawal Letter” sections of this exposé. Both are accessible at their respective dates on the Timeline page) 13 Early on, yet after lawyers had been consulted and after the wheels of the “hidden agenda” had started to turn, I was walking through the lobby of Wells Fargo Bank (where I was still banking at the time) and saw my uncle sitting in a chair waiting for something or somebody. I passed by, right in front of him. I’m sure that he didn’t notice me. I didn’t say a word. To be honest, if he’d seen me, I would have just said, “hello.” During my next visit with Dr. Sheuerman, I told him about this close encounter. When I mentioned the fact that I didn’t say anything to Haig, The Doctor declared with emphasis: It’s a good thing that you didn’t! Now, why would The Doctor say this to me? Because my saying something to Haig, even “hello,” would not have been good manners? (Are you listening, Doc? Hey, I’m up here!) No, it was because The Doctor knew that Haig had no knowledge at the time, or any other time for that matter, that I knew anything about the business fraud and Haig did not know that I was involved in any way, shape or form, in what he may have thought was some minor straightening out of some kinks in the accounting of the business over the years. Had he known that I was involved, he’d have known that he was lied to by everyone around him and that settling matters quietly was not a sure thing. And he’d lose his confidence that settling matters out of court was the aim of everyone involved. Why and how so? Because, aside from my father’s cowardice, Haig’s age and ill health was the equalizer. Haig’s knowledge of my suit if not just my involvement in and of itself, would have unsettled him to death. He knew that I would not have been as compromising as his younger brother who he believed was essentially still bent over in front of him. (Sorry about the metaphor, butt if the metaphor fits) 14 I can say that there is probably some possibility that Haig knew that I knew about the fraud that he had committed, giving me grounds to file suit. But he did not know that I had, in fact, sued him over the fraud. If he did know that I knew about the fraud, then, he thought that whatever his lawyers were doing with my father’s lawyers, he was doing with me as a part of that same legal picture. In such a scenario, he thought that my father’s lawyers were the same as mine. Actually, come to think of it, the word, “fraud,” would not have been used around Haig. There were “differences” that were being cleaned up and I was in agreement. All speculation. But such is how my mind works (“crazy” as it is). 15 When a Defendant doesn’t know that he’s been sued. Regarding the foregoing notion, albeit a fact in my case, I did not do research in law books. But I did Google it every which way that I could. I found zero, zip, zilch, nothing, and nada. In this Information Age and Era of Même, as far as the gold standard of information retrieval is concerned, according to the Cadillac of search engines, Google, there is no case throughout recorded legal history of a mentally/legally-competent defendant, sued for tens of millions of dollars, who was unaware of it for several years of his or her life. In my case, we’re talking four years. That is, from the inception of the lawsuit and forward throughout the remaining duration of Haig Berberian’s time on earth. From 08/30/83-the suit’s institution to 09/21/87-Haig Berberian’s passing. Although very infrequent, he had been sued before. However, aside from his business entities, he had never been sued personally. And in my case against Haig, the numbers were unprecedented during his life. The numbers amounted to more than all of the other legal suits against Haig in toto. And then some. Especially when taking into account what he stole from my sister and parents. Their asset retrieval would have come into play had my lawsuit progressed as it should have. That is, in an honest way. Quadruple the monetary figures as all of us had a 5% interest in the family business, 20% total. Regarding Haig’s “mental competence” (in case one thinks that a possible lack thereof is the rationale for his being spared), during those aforementioned lawsuit years, Haig spearheaded, reopened, and was running the walnut and almond processing business under the new name, “Berberian Nut Co.” In other words, he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed enough during that time to mentally and legally deal with the matter (although the affect on his ego and emotions would possibly have killed him). There was indeed plenty of there there in his noggin’ then to handle the legal situation. If, by nothing else, he could simply have settled the matter with money, essentially a drop in the bucket to him, the increase in his net worth for a few years, a good portion of which would have been covered by insurance. Additionally, if Haig was to be spared, the money involved–the lawyers’ only interest–could have instead been easily squeezed out of Wells Fargo Bank’s bloated belly. Regardless, my uncle should have known about my lawsuit. But he did not. Haig died without knowing that I’d filed a humongous gargantuan case against him and his various business entities. Or a legal case against him of any kind, for that matter. I waited seven years without telling a single soul about my suit, hoping to hear something from one or more of those involved in the matter who did know about my litigation and were legally working the case from either or both sides, plaintiff’s and/or defendants.’ I waited to hear from any of the players in a position to speak to me about resolving matters. I heard from no one. No one was forced to come forward and do the right thing. And no one came forward of their own volition to do the right thing. Even my own lawyers didn’t come forward to discuss the matter with me in an honest way. (Just take a look at my letters posted on this website now that the rest of the story is here to put them and especially the responses thereto into context) The silence was deafening before and during the lawsuit’s existence, crickets chirping throughout the quarter of a century since. The suit’s objective reality for me matched that for Haig Berberian. Were it not for Berberian Mystery Theatre, Richard Berberian v. Haig Berberian & Wells Fargo Bank would essentially be a figment of my imagination, a fortiori, “lis erit erotica.” 16 Whatever it was that my father did, was aligned with and theoretically had my “brand,” because my father would never have done a single thing to try to rectify the matter were it not for me. So I was the bad guy either way, no matter what. But that’s okay. I’m fine with it. Let Haig Berberian continue to be remembered as the “Walnut King,” benevolently charitable (with my family’s money). Let Vasken Berberian be forgotten as Haig Berberian wanted and would have it. And let me continue to be the black sheep of the family, the proverbial “one they never talk about.” 17 If I were to assess events strictly on a face-value basis and without a curious eye, I would have to say that I would not have had Rudy Bilawski representing me had I not “accidentally” bumped into him at a 1983 New Year’s Eve celebration at the Stockton Hilton, whereupon he told me that he was going to speak to a trial attorney on my behalf after the first of the year. Had this curious encounter not happened, the statute of limitations would have lapsed on me, assuming that I had not sought other counsel. Because I waited so long (under the “spell” of my psychiatrist), perhaps I wouldn’t have been able to find an attorney at the last minute. Bilawski had to bump into me. He couldn’t just up and call me. How would it have looked right now if he had called me up to get my suit going (or not going, as it were) and then mysteriously pulled out the way he did? Someone had to file suit in order to toll the statute being that my father had not done so. I know how Bilawski could have made the “bumping into” happen. (Perhaps Bilawski and Wells Fargo Bank had their arms wrapped around each other. Or maybe Bilawski simply had a “contact” therein. I’ll let the reader figure out what’s missing in this “hint.” It should be a piece of cake (or “walnut tort”, if you will). One more hint. The information would not be as a result of computer hacking. I don’t even know how widespread computers were back in the early 80’s. Regardless, hacking would have been a last resort) For the previous two and one half years, all that I had been doing and all that was visibly going on was my research and letter-writing (and of course, Dr. Sheuerman’s stringing me along on a primrose path to nowhere). Then I encounter Bilawski and he informs me that he is going to speak to a trial lawyer on my behalf after the first of the year. I was dumbfounded. Sitting at a table after Bilawski left to return to his table, I turned to my wife at the time and said: “I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.” (At that time, I wasn’t even very paranoid, for at my table seating four, sitting in close proximity, was an accountant/friend of Bilawski’s to whom he introduced me prior to leaving my table. I wasn’t speaking to my wife about my astonishment in hushed tones) Upon my next visit, I advised Dr. Sheuerman of my “‘chance’ encounter of the curious kind.” Being that The Doctor had for years led me to believe that my father had handled the matter on my behalf, I expressed the same bewilderment to him, that I was perplexed by what this “chance” encounter meant. Though he may have just as well said that an alien has finally made contact with me, he responded that Bilawski’s words meant that, and I quote, they’re getting ready to do something. That’s it. That’s all he said. No explanation. No elaboration. No collaboration with me on what Bilawski’s words meant as far as what was actually going on at the time and what had taken place up until this point. The Doctor did not say what they were going to do when they do something, nor who “they” were who were going to do something, nor why they were going to do something, nor to whom they were going to do something to. If I had asked him what they were getting ready to do, he would have said that they’re getting ready to do what I had just told him, speak to a trial attorney on my behalf now that it was after the first of the year. In fact, I recall that I did ask and he did say just that on that occasion. That’s the way he answered all such questions about my suit when I had asked. He was vague and played guessing games. Hey, wait a second. Wait one darn second. I just had an epiphany. If they’re getting ready to do something is how that encounter with Bilawski is/was defined (by, at the time, still a brilliant man, a genius, in fact), it also means and meant that what was going on during the previous two years had a direct legal connection to me and my as yet unfiled case! Therefore, it was The Doctor who actually co-mingled my legal case with my father’s as I pondered events and thought about my legal matter, trying to analyze what was going on during a span of time when, to all appearances, nothing was going on. The Doctor just got owned. Well, not really. It took me three decades to figure this out. You can’t own anyone if it takes you that long to figure them out and they are since deceased. Actually, I already knew of the “co-mingling” of cases or causes of action instinctively, because Dr. Sheuerman had suggested it previously in other more subtle ways. And the message sunk in. But I am just now bringing it to the surface and crystallizing its origin and relevance. I do have to say that on another level, “they’re getting ready to do something,” implies that they, whoever “they” are, were doing virtually nothing up until then. I’m sure that somewhere in my brain, I interpreted The Doctor’s words as such. And you wonder why my frustration and anger continue. I can’t get this shit out of my head. Thanks goes out to Dr. Arnold A. Sheuerman, Jr.–Head Shrinker. Okay. Once I had filed suit, and even though our cases were joined at the hip, I (subconsciously) wanted the two cases to be kept separate, because my father’s case was a case to be compromised. That was who my father was. He liked to be screwed and I wanted no part of it. And no, his lawyers couldn’t change that. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. So they had to work with it. To my detriment, that is. And even though Bilawski said that the case is/was “all or nothing,” he was referring to my father’s case which included mine. (It might be helpful if I refer to my “case” and refer to my father’s “matter,” because mine was a lawsuit and my father’s was not) Bilawski knew that my case could not be compromised without my consent. (I’m leaving Wells Fargo Bank as Trustee out of this, because it goes without saying that they couldn’t compromise my trust and its money. Anymore, that is) Because my father’s matter involved my case (that is, he was asking for my money along with his), his matter could not be compromised. My father’s matter or individual position alone could have been compromised outside of a court setting, but, as discussed elsewhere herein, you can’t get the big bucks outside the courtroom. Even if the windows were open and the sun was bright and shining through, my father’s matter was being discussed in a “dark and dingy smoke-filled room.” It was a deep dark secret. But The Doctor considered the two cases virtually inseparable if not one and the same, before and after my suit was filed. And I’m positive that this affected my behavior, because I hung on his every word. Keep this connectivity notion regarding my father’s matter and my case in mind at all times. I do. I should surround this analysis with flashing neon lights. My commentary throughout this entire website is infected by the concept that the two cases are connected and not mutually-exclusive, even though thus far, I probably haven’t explained how the two are connected such that the reader can understand. To me, The Doctor saying that they’re getting ready to do something meant the same thing as that which he said to me early on, during the first few months after my discovery of fraud, and I quote, something’s going on. If I hadn’t believed this, I would have taken steps that would have involved another lawyer. And then that lawyer would have had to be bought off. Yes, I mean, bought off. “Mum’s the word.” His or her silence (i.e., not telling me what was really going on) would be rewarded, just like other attorneys were rewarded who had contacted me and who came into the know by way of the attorney solicitation packages that I mailed out to them after my trial attorney, Larry Drivon, withdrew from my case. I am referring to the few attorneys who responded by asking me to come see them. Such Brothers wouldn’t be purchased with cash, but with favors, lucrative referrals, etc. That’s the way The Brotherhood works. Getting back to Dr. Sheuerman’s cryptic messages to me, i.e., they’re getting ready to do something and something’s going on, something was going on involving my father out there in a parallel legal or non-legal if not illegal world, a shadow case of some sort. And I have been trying to sort it out ever since. 18 For the sake of argument, let us assume that I am absolutely correct. My lawsuit was not properly instituted and could not be legally prosecuted, only in a de facto manner. (And of course, legal counsel on both sides knew this as well as any judge sitting on the case) Perhaps when the First Amended Complaint was filed on March 21, 1984 and served by mail on Haig’s lawyers and those of Wells Fargo Bank on April 11, 1984, the lawsuit actually came into “some form” of legal existence. Who knows. (The lawyers and judges do) I will say the following with confidence. The period of time when the suit was not properly instituted (by way of the non- filing of an Original Summons), was a purposefully-created time-period. And the “dead time” was utilized for the benefit of Haig Berberian’s mental health (and perhaps that of my father’s as well), but to the detriment of my mental and legal well-being. (The assumption is that Haig knew at least something about his current legal problems, albeit minimal, and not because of me and my doings, but because of my father) If you look at Document No. 11, the top page of the First Amended Complaint, there is a notation that there was a “Summons issued.” Yet it is no where to be found within or attached to said March 21, 1984 First Amended Complaint. (Nor is said Summons to be found detached from the subject complaint and in another location within the case-file) If you look at Document 12, the Proof of Service by Mail dated April 11, 1984 and filed on April 12, it declares that the Summons on First Amended Complaint was served “on the interested parties in said cause.” However, it is not wholly its own document, filed and file-marked separately from the complaint to which it is incorporated. And more importantly, also note that the “interested parties” on which it was served do not include Haig Berberian himself. A dead give-away, assigning credibility to my analysis as a whole regarding the bullshit-institution, bullshit-procedural history, and bullshit-prosecution and progression of my lawsuit (which I am just noticing with some clarity, it’s about time, an honest attorney could have pointed it out to me three decades earlier). Additionally revealing is the fact that the very first documents filed by Haig Berberian’s lawyers (as well as the counsel for Wells Fargo Bank) in response to my lawsuit are filed on January 17, 1984. There is no answer to the initial complaint which was filed on August 30, 1983. If an Original Summons was served with the original complaint, an answer to that summons and complaint must be filed within thirty days of it being served (so stated on any and all summons’ face-page). Being that such answer is lacking in the court record, evidently, there was no Original Summons served with the original complaint. Therefore, legally-speaking, it does not matter to the Court if the complaint was served or not. As far as the Court is concerned, such service of the Complaint on the “interested parties,” if the event did indeed occur, for all intents and purposes, never happened. And no one was summoned to court. (The complaint “prays” for relief, but does not demand an answer) The Register of Actions demands some answers, as do I. I rest my case. 19 As long as a judge knows that both opposing counsel know about and are agreed to some kind of procedural bullshit that is going on in a case, the “compromised” judge signs onto and becomes part and parcel of that incestuous horseshit. The Judge is probably apprised in the matter prior to or at the commencement of the “irregularity” such that the attorneys don’t come off as arrogant and also to keep some judge’s ego in check. In my case, the Judge knew that there was no Original Summons filed, summoning the main defendant and advising him that he has been sued by complaint in court. And even if the file did “reflect” or “indicate” (take your pick) an Original Summons filed, The Judge knew that it wasn’t served on Defendant Haig Berberian. I haven’t checked because this just came to mind, but I’ll bet that no judge sat on the case more than once. They were playing musical chairs albeit taking a seat just once. This, to accommodate the “hidden agenda” about which I speak. If a judge ruled twice, he would be on the hot-seat to “notice” that the main defendant was not served and there was no Initial Summons summoning him to court. (Are we talking conspiracy? You god-damned betcha!)The Judge(s) knew by prior advisement that there would be neither a Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt signed by the Defendant nor a Proof of Service (of summons) signed by a process server or sheriff declaring that the Defendant had been served with said document (including the original complaint, which was in the file). This state of legal affairs would be glaring anyway to any judge looking at a file in which this was the state of said file. Such is taught in “Black Robe 101.” Therefore, the Judges in my case knew this to be the case and probably knew that the Defendant was old and that this is the procedural step that may have been taken (unlawfully, I might add) to keep the Defendant legally un-summoned and legally uninformed. Problem is that the insidious symptoms of said procedure drove the Plaintiff legally crazy (almost). 20 Said judges and hearing dates are as follows: Stuart R. Pollak (03/07/84), John A. Ertola (04/30/84), Roy L. Wonder (08/29/84), Raymond D. Williamson, Jr. (06/20/86), Maxine Mackler Chesney (07/28/88 & 08/26/88), Daniel M. Hanlon (08/30/88, 10/04/88 & 10/31/88), Maxine Mackler Chesney (03/03/89), and Daniel M. Hanlon (04/05/89). The reason that I enumerated the judges by the sequential dates of the hearings is because there is probably some kind of pattern to the musical “chairs” being played out. Knowing the essence of the matter at hand during those hearings would be key to unlocking the nature of the blueprint to the pattern. The nature of the hearings is to be found in the “Index-Table of Contents” at the beginning of the attached pdf pertaining to the subject present chapter. 21 It stands to reason that if Haig was not sued according to the law, in addition to the Judges, opposing counsel knew about it (a no-brainer), it was a mutually agreed-upon architecturally legally-engineered procedure/scheme, and therefore, “opposing counsel” is and was indeed an oxymoron in my legal case. And the mysterious “wrong premise” issue (which Dr. Sheuerman once tried to bring to my attention by name and thereafter by inference, though this was long before I had filed suit) is most likely that I never actually and in reality needed to sue anyone in San Francisco County Superior Court nor did my father. Playing me for a fool this way is and was a foolish thing for the players to do. I was fooled and maybe I was a fool at that time, but no longer. Everyone knows that lawyers can be bottom-dwelling sleaze-balls. However, judges are not generally known to be incestuous scumbags. This is one big reason why my case is so toxic and the lawyers are in hiding. Esquires and Honorables are a brotherhood, folks. As referenced throughout this exposé, they are The Brotherhood. And those involved in my case at any point in time, know that I’m out to expose them. In fact, I am out here exposing them now. I have been at it for three decades plus and they know that I’m not going away and that I won’t rest until I get the answers which will define them. And although, when such time comes to pass, in my eyes, they will be dressed down to their birthday suits, it will be their call whether or not they want to remain incognito. 22 Okay, so the Original Summons would not be on top, but rather on the bottom. The most recently-filed documents are on top. Almost always in a two-hole punch legal file-folder, they progress chronologically from the bottom up. Hey, I was just engaging in a little literary license, whereupon compunction set in and I had to level with those who are not familiar with court/case files. But like I said, any San Francisco judge would scrutinize a Wells Fargo Bank-related litigation file to see if the first volley of causes of action was properly propelled. But no, not in my case. Not in my “special” case needing special handling wherein only the top dogs could know what was really going on. And in my case, the Plaintiff was not a member of the Top Dog Club. Just the lawyers and the Judges and the men who were sabotaging my case, i.e., Vasken G. Berberian and those handling his case. Come to think of it, as far as I was concerned, to The Brotherhood, my whole case was essentially but a humoring devise. After all, I was and am the black sheep of the Berberian family, “the one they never talk about.” It wouldn’t take the top-notch lawyers in my case very long to figure this out, being that they are masters at human psychology with the ability, virtually at first glance, to size a person up. They couldn’t climb to the top of their profession without this skill. Maybe I was even a loon, or so they would have you think. One crazy camel’s nose that they brought into their tent. And I accept the challenge within the pages of this website. Or anywhere else, for that matter. 23 It is evident from all of the letters that I wrote leading up to and during the course of my lawsuit, that I did not know my ass from a hole in the ground in so far as what was going on around me. My letters are documentary evidence of this fact. (And I’ll be posting many of them in due course) I must say that when I step back and take a look at things from my hindsight view, it is worth noting that there were at least two hundred people, from lawyers to judges to accountants to bankers to doctors (at least one that I know of) who knew and know what it was that my father did and did not do, and a couple hundred lawyers and judges and accountants and bankers and doctors (at least one that I know of) who knew and know what my lawyers were doing with my lawsuit in coordination with whatever it was that my father did and did not do. And it is worth noting that I did not know what my father did and did not do (aside from not filing suit against his brother, which I only learned after several years), and I did not know what my lawyers were doing with my lawsuit in coordination with whatever it was that my father did and did not do. And all of this should be proof-positive as to just how much honesty there is out there especially in the legal profession in light of the fact that the lawsuit was mine and should have been mine alone. However, my suit was owned by someone or something else out there and I will not quit doing what it is that I am doing until I find out just who that someone else is or was or what that something else is or was that relentlessly tormented and terrorized me throughout the previous thirty-plus years leading up to and including this one. 24 Let me make something abundantly clear. I do not think that Larry Drivon or anyone else screwed me for the sake of screwing me. No sadists are involved (not on my side of this legal matter). As I said, there is a hidden agenda involved in Drivon’s (and Rudy Bilawski’s) behavior regarding my lawsuit. The question is just what that agenda is or was. Larry did not feign my lawsuit for the sake of feigning it. There is a rhyme and a reason for his actions or lack thereof regarding my lawsuit. I have speculated in some documents posted to this site that the Doctrine of Res Judicata may be the rhyme and the reason. Haig Berberian’s lawyers raised res judicata as his 13th Affirmative Defense (on Friday the 13th of July, 1984). The term means that the same identical matter was already adjudicated in a prior legal forum involving the same parties! (Curiously, Larry Drivon did not inquire about this defense. Does it not follow that if the matter was already settled, Drivon would want to know where and when, who and how?) I had never sued anyone before. Therefore, res judicata cannot refer to a prior lawsuit by me on the same grounds with the same set of facts with the same this and the same that. The only thing that such a defense could possibly refer to is something connected to my father’s activities, because he had the same causes of action as mine involving the same parties as mine. But my father died without telling me what, if anything, he had done. So, I have been twisting in the wind not only since he died, but ever since my lawsuit was filed, including the three years leading up to its filing wherein, whatever my father and his lawyers were up to, was causing me untold grief. (Well, the grief is told here. But the gravity of it has not been adequately described. Thirty-plus years of torment and terror, torture and hell, I have mentioned. But they only scratch the surface) Nevertheless, I have believed strongly enough that res judicata is applicable in this matter such that I made it part of the e-mail address pertaining to this website.-Namely, “firstname.lastname@example.org.” 25 Most likely, the reason/motive which positively applies to the deleting of the Drivon years from the Automated Court Information System computer accounting of my case, is the following. Larry Drivon did not want those not in the loop to know the actual time of day that he filed his June 20, 1986 Supplemental Exhibit in my case. Larry did not want Raymond Daniel Williamson Jr., the Judge ruling that day on Larry’s withdrawal from my case, to “officially” know what is/was in his December 5, 1984 Letter of Intent to Withdraw. In order to protect himself and to give the Judge cover (as they exchanged a wink and a nod), he did not want revealed in the court record prior to the hearing, what I myself have proven since then beyond a reasonable doubt. Drivon’s Letter of Intent to Withdraw was filed at a time that would make it a certainty that the document would not be in the file for the Judge to see (and have to ignore). (This is another example of the many and varied tricks of the attorney trade for all of you unsuspecting litigants out there) Had the Judge seen that letter by way of Drivon’s filing it beforehand or my having been smart enough to have it in hand at the hearing, the Judge would have been compelled to ask Larry why he stayed on the case a year and a half beyond the date of the letter. The only excuse I know of that Larry could make is that he was trying to find for me successor counsel. If so, the Judge would have been further compelled to ask: “And what have you done in that regard?” Larry’s answer: “I met with one attorney and sent the case to another for review. Both passed on it.” That amounts to calling on one attorney every nine months. The courtroom would have burst into laughter. And the Judge wouldn’t have been able, with any credibility or a straight face, to let Larry depart from the case. (I myself solicited 1200 attorneys, probably a Guinness Book aggregate, in order to find successor counsel after Larry was gone. Granted, mostly by mail. Notwithstanding, that was 10% of the attorneys in California. I should have submitted that fact to Guinness. I’d probably hold some kind of record right now) The timing of Larry’s filing his withdrawal letter (which is the most basic document to file for a withdrawal, don’t you think?) and what he said in it is ultimately why the ACIS computer accounting of my case is missing. Again, it would reveal the time down to the minute when that letter/document was filed, a time when it would not have been in the file for the Judge to see. The history of the Drivon years of my lawsuit being missing tells me that the timeline of the case is and was critical down to the minute. That’s why they are gone. I’m not saying that it was necessarily Larry Drivon’s doing, as there are/were a host of other legal and “political” issues in this case that warranted “special handling” in relationship to the case accounting timeline. Although it would be conspicuous for just the one document to be missing from the ACIS, the five-year deletion of records was probably perpetrated by someone with a purpose more than just solving Drivon’s “problem.” I had questioned Larry about his not filing his Letter of Intent to Withdraw with his moving papers for withdrawal and he responded by saying that he would do so. (See Timeline at 05/30/86, “Correspondence from Larry Drivon,” to view a copy of Drivon’s secretary’s cover letter [with Larry’s withdrawal letter attached] addressed to the Clerk of the Superior Court, but not sent to the Clerk of the Superior Court [another trick of the attorney trade]. Yet it was sent to me at that time so I would think that the withdrawal letter was sent to the Clerk of the San Francisco County Superior Court and filed therewith) Pretty important document to have left out of his moving papers for withdrawal, wouldn’t you say? That’s why I’m saying it again. (Although to be precise, the last time, I said it parenthetically) And pretty important document for the lawyer who drew up my papers in opposition to Drivon’s withdrawal to have left out of said papers, wouldn’t you say? (Call me crazy, but yes, the lawyer who drafted my opposition papers was a conspirator and I’m not too shy to say so. He was a very well-respected Modesto attorney, but he was first and foremost a “Brother” doing a favor for another Brother. The evidentiary facts can all be found on this website) There are most likely other documents in the case-file of this timeline-sensitive litigation whose exact time of filing might be revelatory of a dubious agenda. “Therefore, all of the specific times of filing of all of the Drivon documents as well as all of those of the ‘opposing counsel’ whose times of filing might matter for that matter, begone!” (For further discussion on this subject, and as referenced above, see the 05/30/86 Timeline entry titled, “Correspondence from Larry Drivon”) 26 Noteworthy is the fact that whenever and wherever a lawyer attached a copy of the original complaint as an exhibit to another document that they were serving or filing, there was no original summons exhibited along with it. This would be another reason to believe that such original summons never existed or was never made a permanent part of the court case-file. There is indeed a summons (on its first amended complaint) issued on March 30, 1984, but who knows how it differs from the Original Summons issued on August 30, 1983, assuming that the latter ever existed. I’ll say it again, all of this (and my whole case in general) has to be scrutinized within the context of a timeline. My guess is that Haig Berberian’s lawyers were answering questions regarding the latter summons and complaint without any input from Haig. Yes, Haig knew that a problem had arisen early on. And being that he was not going to testify in any court case, he was probably informally deposed by his lawyers near the outset of the discovery by my father and I of the rampant fraud and deceit propagated by Haig and his abettors, on the outside chance that a lawsuit was filed and a trial did indeed occur. (Of course, a trial never came to pass because my lawyers were never serious about my suit and my father was never serious about taking meaningful steps to rectify his situation nor mine for that matter in his capacity as Grantor/Trustor of my trust) Being questioned early on, Haig probably lied to his lawyers about the facts of the matter. Larry Drivon once told me that Haig was probably lying to his lawyers. But not about the legal matters raised by me in my lawsuit, as Larry would have me think and in fact he had me thinking. Like I said, Haig knew that there was a problem, but he thought that my father had raised some questions about his own potential case early in the history of this sordid legal affair. And he was probably advised that my father had sought legal counsel. His lawyers, at that point in time, probably informally deposed him and used whatever he said to answer the First Amended Complaint filed later on down the line by me. They did not answer the Original Complaint as I have said elsewhere. Of course, however they responded to the First Amended Complaint, took into account whatever Haig’s accountant, Peter B. Jeppson, told them. Jeppson was probably present when Haig was deposed and knew where Haig would lie. He knew where the bodies were buried and told the lawyers. (All of this is hard to explain properly. It might not even make sense. But this is the best that I can do presently. As things become clearer, I’ll amend my commentary. But I’m not holding my breath for a professional to help me figure this thing out. Such day will never come when it comes to Berberian v. Berberian & Wells Fargo Bank) It is one theory of mine that one of the reasons that Haig was spared the knowledge that I had sued him is because I am the one he despised as much as my father and he knew that I am the one who would have no problem going to court and to trial, once I found out that he was a mean, callous, blood-thirsty, menacing, malicious crook. In other words, a monster when it came to his wretched treatment of his brother and his brother’s family. And I do believe that Haig was afraid of me. He knew that I had not signed anything nor did I have any access to information pointing to fraud on Haig’s part during the twenty-five years that the family business was in existence. I was not afraid when my father told me that Haig warned him that he would, “reach out of my grave to get you,” if there were any legal steps taken to rectify their problems. And it would have literally killed Haig had he known that I knew what I knew. He would, without a doubt, have known that his days were numbered. And I’m sure that the lawyers on both sides knew this as well. Obviously, this is one of the reasons why he was not told that I sued him (albeit a pretend suing). Haig did believe that his younger brother would never have the courage to sue him. And he was right about that. But it was not primarily because these two brothers Berberian were from The Old Country, Haig being the older brother. Nor was it because my father wanted to maintain an “oznagon family” (phonetic spelling, to use his Armenian expression, meaning “family over money”). No, it was because Haig and his crooked high-ranking Mormon scum-bag accountant had seen to it that my father would never sue. The reasons for this are as follows. Haig had to have help with the looting of partnership assets. (Dr. Sheuerman brought this to my attention early on. Makes sense. But I didn’t know such things back in the day. I was both green and wet behind the ears when it came to business. Still am) And our mutual family accountant, Peter B. Jeppson, CPA, was just the right whore for the job. With a big brown nose, this sociopath did Haig’s bidding and helped quench their mutual lust for the schädenfreude experience. I’ll note right here and now that my lawsuit brought out the best and the worst in me. And now that it obviously just kicked in (again), I have to say that the worst is going on display right now. No holds barred. Needless to say, I haven’t let go of my venomous hatred for this evil Peter Jeppson piece of shit. Any distress that my malicious malevolent words might hopefully cause this “big fat pig” (and the expression was originally conceived and coined for this guy), pale in comparison to the long-term pain and suffering that this ugly diabolical despicable lardaceous reprobate wrought on my family, thereby ruining the life of my father and in turn my father’s family. Therefore, big deal if a screwball like me is calling this filthy fat bastard vulgar names, saying nasty things about him in this exposé, most of which are provable. There is no comparison, none. I’ll say it this way: “Mr. Jeppson, you can take your religious beliefs and stick them up your big fat foul latter-day saintly blasphemous sanctimonious ass. I say these words with malice aforethought, malicious intent and malevolence. This is personal. So sue me [emphasis added].” A disgusting gluttonous massive blob of blubber pushing maximum density, with continuously-batting blinking eyes (a known symptom of pathological lying), the holy rolly-polly Peter B. Jeppson was a monetary predator, cold-blooded, callous, cunning, and skilled at manipulating people into positions susceptible to blackmail. And he used a religious front for his treachery. This is what this “spiritual” ass-wipe con-man had done with my father, who had entrusted the business partnership accounting to this “religious high-ranking Mormon,” Jeppson, and his Modesto accounting firm, Atherton, Ludlow & Schonhoff (now known as Atherton & Associates). And now that I’ve thought of it, I am hereby naming Mr. Jeppson, The Atherton Whore. And by the way, Jeppson was an associate and/or an unnamed partner of “The Atherton Whorehouse” for his entire career. It is no mystery to me why this Mormom scumbag was never a named partner, even when all of the members of the firm, five or more, were a part of the firm name. Atherton knew that Jeppson was a dirtbag and worried that were he to get caught, he’d bring them all down with them. The assumption here, of course, is that all of the accountants at Atherton weren’t also crooked Mormon con-men. (I want to make it clear that I have nothing against Mormons. I use the word in the context of Jeppson many times in my commentary only to stress the fact that he presents himself as a religious man. He is not. He’s a Mormon asshole. But then again, a “Christian” man would never have done what this guy did. Unless he’s a Christian asshole) This word goes out to all of those whose business and/or accounting interests were in any way touched by the dirty hands of Peter B. “The Atherton Whore” Jeppson, CPA, especially the Van Spronsen family here in Modesto. (I can’t believe you let the Devil’s Spawn be witness to your father’s will. You’d better look closely at any documents and transactions that you have had involving this tub of lard, because you probably got screwed in one way or another. The Atherton Whore is a middleman who gets bought by the side with the most money. With Jeppson involved, if the other side was Haig Berberian, you were deceived, defrauded and screwed, especially if you did not have legal representation. And if you did have an attorney, chances are, said barrister looked the other way, assuming that he wasn’t part and parcel of Jeppson’s agenda. And remember, if fraud is involved, the statute of limitations doesn’t start to run until the discovery thereof). It is too bad that my father was too weak when the time came (as the calculating Jeppson knew my father would be) to call the bluff of that hippopotamus. The IRS would have wrung Jeppson’s elephantine neck along with my father’s. This time around, The Atherton Whore would not have been in a position to buy off with Haig’s money and power an honest IRS inquiry, like he did the agent-auditor-mole who audited my father in 1976 after some money changed hands between my father and Haig. (Along with documented evidence, more information on this will be presented and the relevance will be more specified at some other time and place on this website) As an aside, I guess the Mormon church does with their reprobates what the Catholic church does with their pedophiles. They move them elsewhere. Like I noted earlier, Peter Jeppson fled to Bedford, Texas after torching his accounting office. When he got to Texas, I’m confident that this reptilian white-collar white trash sadistic hog, preyed upon people there as well. Problem is, this satanic depraved vile degenerate bottom-dwelling scum-sucker could have returned to Modesto once he knew that his deposition would not be needed or taken. (And by the way, this greasy fat pig knew that he’d never get caught, because, if he got caught, Haig got caught. And Haig would never get caught. He had too much money and the power that comes and goes with it. And this did, in fact, turn out to be the case. Both assholes never got caught) I do not know if the self-righteous Mormon sleazebag Jeppson has come back to Modesto or not. I don’t even know if this swine is still alive. If not, good riddance. If anyone needs a dirt nap, it is he. Why? Because Jeppson is a whore. Did I tell you he’s a whore? He’s a whore. He’s “The Atherton Whore.” Continuing, because of the Haig-Pete Blackmail & Money-Laundering Machine, my father was afraid to sue Haig. However, as I said earlier, Haig did not know the gravity of the current situation; namely, the fact that I too had discovered fraud on the same day as my father. (On September 2, 1980, for reasons unknown, my father was given a confidential memo indicating fraud by my uncle regarding the family business. (See Timeline at 07-24-72, “Confidential Memorandum”) My father in turn showed it to me that evening, asking if I wanted to rectify the matter. I said, “yes, I do,” and he ultimately said, “no, you don’t”) So Haig did not know that I too had discovered his fraud and that I was serious about my own case and that I had top-notch attorneys who eventually (pretend) sued him for essentially the same causes of action as my father would have had in his legal standing had he chosen to pursue them. Unfortunately, Haig was also unaware that I played nice and remained mum about the matter for five and one half years. I did not tell anyone except my spouse at the time. I even waited until two days before the lapsing of the statute for filing suit for fraud before I proceeded with its (pretend) institution. Of course, I was manipulated into waiting this long and to (pretend) file it when I did. As I have said in other commentary, during the three years leading up to my (pretend) filing suit, I had it in my mind that my father had taken some kind of action on both our behalf and on our family’s behalf as a whole. And as I have emphasized within this chapter and elsewhere, I “thank” Dr. Arnold A. Sheuerman, Jr., my erstwhile psychiatrist (since deceased), for my believing this. The Doctor was positive about something else going on with some kind of action on my father’s part and positive about what the outcome would be (minus the numbers), but the concept of “when” was never a part of his act. I waited for the culmination of that alleged action. Such an end never came. Eighteen months after the (pretend) institution of my suit, my father died. And I then waited some more as I believed that such a legal machine does not end when an elderly client passes. Precautions are taken. (Regarding powers of attorney, my personal attorney at the time said that the power dies upon the death of the grantor. However, on my own, I learned that there are special kinds of powers of attorney that can survive the grantor’s death. And besides, anything can be arranged by lawyers, especially if a judge ratifies it in some legal venue) When I speak of “wait,” “waited,” and “waiting” during the years leading up to my (pretend) lawsuit and thereafter, I’m saying that I remained quiet about my father’s matter and the potential (pretend) case and did not do anything that my (pretending) lawyers would not want me to do. After my (pretend) case was filed, I continued to remain mum about it. The most critical thing that my lawyers wanted me to do was to do just that, wait and remain quiet about the (pretend) case. And although I was impatient (writing umpteen emotional letters to my lawyers), I was not a “difficult client” in the legal sense. I was indeed “high maintenance,” but the treatment that I had to endure by having to watch lawyers who were never serious about my (pretend) case (see Berberian Mystery Theatre for the evidence), would have easily warranted my being an “adverse client.” Regardless, I was always easy to reach and the lawyers could have gotten a hold of me on a moment’s notice to do anything on earth as well as on Saturn and Mars that they wanted me to do on behalf of the (pretend) case. I would have learned Latin so I could pronounce and understand their fancy legal expressions. I would have done summersaults, cartwheels, and practiced shotput until I got it. Unfortunately, they didn’t call on me to do diddly-squat. Therefore, in order to feel useful, I did my own research and wrote them tons of letters with commentary about what I had found. And by the way, I would not be afraid to post all of my letters to this website (though many of them would be exceedingly embarrassing, a host of them being laced with four-letter words, though never directed at any recipient thereof). However, when Larry Drivon ultimately withdrew from my (pretend) case, thereby leaving me to my own devices, I did just that. And the rest is history and continuing history. Because of the egregious treatment that I received from all of the players throughout the life of my (pretend) case, this matter will never be over for me. Dr. Sheuerman was the player who planted the seeds of the belief that drove, has driven, and drives my behavior throughout this psychodrama. I am haunted by the things that he said. During the “waiting stage,” two years before I (pretend) filed suit and two years before I even knew that I would have to (pretend) file suit, The Doctor advised that I indeed needed to hurry up and wait. As noted before, he stated: These things just inch along and inch along, especially when they’re trying to get twenty-one different lawyers from four different cities together into the same room at the same time. Supplementing this advice, again, two years prior to my (pretend) filing suit and “back to the future,” The Doctor said to me: I don’t think that this is a matter of if you’re gonna get any money out of this thing, I think that it’s a matter of how much. (Yeah Doc, that’s all I wanted out of the matter, money and lots of it. I’m glad you noticed. And by the way, nice DeLorean) He also said at the outset, nearly three years prior to my (pretend) filing suit: Between your father and your uncle, Rudy’s going to have to earn his money. What this meant, of course, is that Haig would allow his lawyers to pay my family “jack.” And my father would try his best to settle for “shit.” It also meant that the lawyers for my father did not have an unrestricted power of attorney. (Of course, the overt implication by The Doctor is that my father had taken some kind of action and Haig knew that lawyers were involved and he was going to have to cough up some money. This was a lie by The Doctor who proved to be delusional or simply had his head up his ass. Whichever it was, it was said to manipulate me and benefit those who were about to screw me, including The Hypocratic Doctor) Right after Dr. Sheuerman said that to me, I sent Rudy Bilawski a letter mentioning it. That is, that my father would settle for pennies on the dollar and Haig would only allow his lawyers to pay less. I probably thought that it was something Rudy should know. Of course, on day one, after speaking with my father, Bilawski was smart enough to know that my father had absolutely no backbone. However, I misquoted The Doctor in my letter to Rudy. I wrote the quote as follows or words to this effect: Between you and your uncle, Rudy’s going to have to earn his money. I guess that I did get mixed up at times as to just who was taking some (pretend) action. But I did not get mixed up on who did, in fact, eventually (pretend) sued. My father sued no one, though The Doctor wanted me to think otherwise. Were it not for me, my father would never have lifted a finger. Or a brain wave. Or whatever it would have been that he lifted if he did do something about the matter. I knew that it was me who spirited what would have been my father’s inaction into action of some sort. And it was me who got a telephone call early on from someone who, in an impassioned tone and voice, said to me: I hate your guts! The caller got it wrong. It was Haig Berberian who asked me to force my father’s (limp-wristed) hand by stealing our money to begin with and especially not doing the right thing after we found out about it. (And by the way, someone with a gazillion dollars doesn’t do anything that he doesn’t want to do unless he has to by law. And if he has to do something by law, then he did do something wrong that needed to be corrected by deed or law or both. Simple as pie. As plain as the nose on your face. A big nose if you’re Armenian. As was Haig’s. And Haig had a big nose. Both brothers Berberian did) I told my father about that call sometime down the line. He got inquisitive and asked when I’d received it. I told him that it was quite sometime back. When he heard that, he was content to leave my presence and inquire no more, satisfied that it wasn’t a very current event. The man knew what was going on and I didn’t. All I could do is watch my father’s behavior (and the other players’ for that matter) and try to deduce what was going on. Anyway, I was eventually contacted by no one, asking if we could try to settle things without (pretend) litigation. What else could I do? I wanted what was legally my family’s money and I had no one to talk to about it except Dr. Sheuerman who was playing guessing games and head games and talking in riddles and throwing me brain-teasers about the matter. He was abstruse, recherché, recondite, oracular, cabalistic, tenebrous, and delphic. (Get it?) The Doctor was the most important player regarding me and my (pretend) lawsuit prior to the entrance of the confidante who helped me get my shit together after I was no longer under Dr. Sheuerman’s “spell” and I was legally on my own and flying solo, “in propria persona” or “in pro per” or “pro se” as the law calls it. The Doctor and his co-conspirators’ chickens did eventually come home to roost. (For a more incisive discussion on this, see the 04/26/88 “‘The Jig Is Up’ Letter to Rudy Bilawski,” accessible from the Timeline page) 27 I want to emphasize the fact that the sneaking around and secret expunging of things from the court record and the like, which I theorize and hypothesize about within this exposé, only makes sense when one has an understanding of at least the general nature of my hidden agenda theory. I believe that this understanding can be gleaned directly from evidentiary legal and other documents posted to and presented within this website. So don’t necessarily believe me, my commentary (a goodly portion of which is disjointed), and my blabbering and blurbing, assuming that my words and thoughts are somewhat coherent and understandable. Read the documents. They speak for themselves. 28 What I am for the most part doing here is memorializing things that I notice in case someday, with the acquisition of new information, it is warranted that I return to said things in order to analyze them differently and more correctly. (Perhaps an “honest” attorney will come along and help me do this. I’ll have things ready and sorted out for his analysis, what’s important and what’s not. Wishful thinking. No attorney will have the guts) At that time, I will amend the pertinent commentary. Is this obsessive? Sure is. But I can’t help it. I study this case the way some study the Bible, although my studying is mostly within the confines of my own mind and the parameters of Berberian Mystery Theatre. 29 The most basic reason for curiously missing documents and deleted computer and other records regarding my case is, of course, to cover the tracks of The Brotherhood and other players and to protect the reputation of Haig Berberian and more importantly that of Wells Fargo Bank’s so-called “Trust” Department. 30 I would like to note that in my discussion of all of this, scattered as it may be, among other things, I am pointing out here and elsewhere some of the skullduggery which took place within the civil (or uncivil) procedure of my case and its relationship to the various players and vice versa, from the lawyers, judges and other professionals (especially Dr. Sheuerman), to the defendants and potential defendants, to my father, and to the plaintiff involved in my suit, namely me. Some of what I say is grounded in fact and dispositive regarding the various issues and aspects of the case. Other parts of my blabbering or perhaps “bloviating,” are speculation, hopefully educated and understandable. Do I have everything right? Do I understand all of the whys and wherefores? The nays have it. I am not a lawyer and decades ago, my lawyers left me chasing my tail, trying to guess what the hell was going on. And I will amend the commentary pages of this website as new facts and understandings emerge. My lawsuit smells like hell and stinks to high heaven. Therefore, I would assume, it doesn’t pass the smell test. Perhaps my conspiracy theories without precisely defined and quantified ends seem like a bunch of hooey. But there is a long chain of actions and inactions throughout the timeline of my case that have become the substantiation and foundation for my belief about the existence of a conspiracy and the like. My attorneys were too good to make some of the legal gaffes that were made. Therefore, I do not believe that many of the “errors and omissions” in my case were made by mistake. As indicated in other commentary, if not by anything else, a purpose can be felt by intuition (at least by me). Once that purpose can be more finely shaped and concisely defined, the mystery will be much closer to being solved and hopefully resolved. Until then, I will continue to think and say that in relation to my lawsuit, there is/was something mysterious and cryptic going on out there in a parallel legal or other kind of world involving jurisprudence. And nutso little ol’ me was just not going to spoil the party. There were too many important reputations and too much money at stake. (Yeah, I know, “what money?”) 31 The mole could even be a judge. Let me repeat: The mole could even be a judge (emphasis added). Judges remain a part of The Brotherhood even after they don the robe and the Honorableness is bestowed upon them. 32 Do I think that I am so important that the world needs to see and read what I have hoisted up here on this website, especially my yakking and yapping about big money, big power, and big people? Nope. Sorry, Charlie. No self-aggrandizing and delusions of grandeur around here. But the case itself is that important. And it does not take a rocket scientist to recognize and understand this. I can always be labeled as a crackpot, a screwball with mental problems in view of my fourteen-year psychiatric counseling history with Dr. Sheuerman. (And I’m sure that The Doctor’s legal representatives would be the first to label me as such if The Doctor’s culpability in this matter grows in visibility. Wait a second. What was I thinking. They can’t call me a darn thing. My medical files are missing, right? Yeah, that’s the ticket. Actually, I have to take that back. Not to worry. I’m sure that my medical files would turn up just in time for such a purpose. What labels are in there, I haven’t a clue) But the players cannot discredit a bona fide lawyer, were one to get involved, speaking the truth and making sense about the truth of the matter with documentation. There is no doubt in my mind that what the “Judicial/Justice System” has accommodated, aided and abetted in this case, is so egregious that were some “renegade” Brother with nothing to lose indeed be on his way to proving and exposing the agenda, blowing this matter wide open, along with his bravery, he’d end up wearing a toe tag. (I guess that he would have something to lose after all) My case indicts both the legal and judicial system by way of the systematic purposeful fraudulent misbehavior found within and around it. When it comes down to it, if the truth about the judges involved in this case were genuinely on the verge of being publicly exposed, the lawyers protecting them would become nothing more (or is it less?) than gangsters protecting their dons. (Among others, Judges Raymond Daniel Williamson Jr. and Edward Dean Price come to mind) A case where no original summons is filed and no Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt for said phantom summons (and complaint) is signed by the primary (or any other) defendant and filed, and the computer accounting of the case including and involving their judgments is deleted and missing, a case wherein all of the judges ruling on matters therein, know about the aforementioned spectacular unprecedented service of process “deficiencies” and look the other way, is a case of gargantuan proportions were these “secrets” to be exposed in a major public venue. Add to this the illegal activity of what is now a multibillion-dollar financial institution, Wells Fargo Bank, in its infancy stage conspiring with one of its biggest clients, “Haig Berberian” (not to mention Haig Berberian’s other co-conspirator, American Trust Company, as Wells Fargo was merging with and/or absorbing the latter, circa 1962, and on its way to becoming a giant), and you’ve got a monstrous case with consequential reputations on the line. You’ve also got a case wherein an IRS agent/auditor/mole was bribed prior to an audit of my father in 1976. Where else can you find all of that or any major portion thereof? Nowhere except Richard Berberian v. Haig Berberian & Wells Fargo Bank. The nature and ramifications of this kind of thing is never known to the public because lawyers in essence swap the information for settlements (and judges reap their benefits for their participation sometime somewhere down the line when no one’s looking). And although the type of chicanery and canardism that I refer to in this chapter and throughout this exposé regarding my case in particular is unheard-of and therefore one-of-a-kind, other egregious things happen in big cases involving big attorneys involved with other big people. Not scenarios wherein your friendly neighborhood lawyer draws up a will for some nice humble person in modesto-town. I am talking about attorney and judge malfeasance in big cases such as mine and, for example, that of Gallo v. Gallo (though I believe that the “special behavior” of the attorneys and judges in Gallo was largely unknown to the younger brother). (For a discussion of Gallo v. Gallo and the brothers Gallo as I believe that they relate to Berberian v. Berberian and the brothers Berberian and me, access the Timeline at the 12/03/93 entry titled, “Letter to Ellen Hawkes”) 33 Let me say that if you are not inclined to believe that powerful people and entities with lots of money and other resources are neither capable of nor act upon hacking into computers and do not have moles in entities such as the phone company, banks, and the court and judicial systems as well, then you need not read any further. Only minds open to these kinds of potential “cloak-and-dagger” resources (“run-of-the-mill” in the higher echelons of the legal world) will understand how possible if not likely it is that my “hidden agenda” theory has a solid foundation. Of course, those who “do not believe,” yet want to learn more about how tortured I am because of what I believe, keep on reading. (The pity party will continue) I have to add, however, that it is not the belief itself that haunts me, but the fact that generally speaking and for the most part, what I believe is true. 34 One reason why Rudy Bilawski chose Larry Drivon to be his trial lawyer for this case is because Larry was smart enough, tough enough, and politically well-connected enough, to weather any fallout were it to become known in a serious way, meaning a public way, that he filed a phony lawsuit with judges in the know and in the loop ruling on its motions. At the time, Drivon was the Treasurer of the California Trial Lawyers Association. He went on to become its President. When The Brotherhood saw the tricks he pulled off in my case (and I’d publicized his work in a gigantic way, from bus benches to legal magazines and directly to a Guinness Book-worthy 1200 lawyers throughout the state, so believe me, enough of them knew), he’d earned in one fell swoop whatever points were needed to catapult him to the top. I’m not saying that it was just my case for which he got serious kudos. He was already well on his way up there as a very competent likeable Brother. But my case didn’t hurt. And even though I was watching, taking notes, and memorializing his behavior, not just any Brother could pull off this type of egregious legal razzle-dazzle. 35 The fact that no original summons was ever filed or remained on file if filed to begin with (and I indeed now consider this to be a fact), and the fact that Haig Berberian was never served said original “phantom” summons and complaint (and I now consider this true in view of the fact that there is no Notice & Acknowledgment of Receipt signed by Haig Berberian or anyone else for that matter, nor is there a Proof of Service signed by a process server or sheriff and filed with the court and in the court file, neither of them existing in Larry Drivon’s case files as well), leaves no reasonable doubt that the lawyers on both sides along with each and every judge who ruled on any aspect of my case (the presumptive fact being that they all did their homework by reviewing the case-file before their judgments), were necessarily coordinated, working in tandum, and wholly in cooperation with each other. Therefore, according to me and my reasoning (which may be taken with a grain of salt, be my guest), each and every “Officer of the Court” who had anything to do with my case, was not only “coordinated” and in “cooperation,” but also in “collusion” with each other regarding this case among cases. In the annals of legal history, the nature of this conspiracy is unprecedented.
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