Skip to main content

Sandy Hook Conspiracy Update: Lawyer Demands 911 Tapes!

On Thursday, an attorney for Connecticut's Freedom of Information Commission announced that Newtown officials violated state law when they refused to release recordings of 911 calls made during the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting.

Kathleen K. Ross, a hearing officer with the commission, ruled in a preliminary report that the Newtown police and state prosecutors failed to offer sufficient evidence supporting their contention that the tapes were exempt from release.  The 911 tapes, along with records pertaining to police activity at the Lanza home were requested the by the Associated Press on the day of the shooting.  After Newtown officials refused to release these records, the AP appealed to the Freedom of Information Commission, who found that Newtown officials broke the law.

In an eight-page report, Ross rejected all of the arguments that Newtown officials and state prosecutor Stephen Sedensky had put forth during a hearing in June, such as the claim that the records were covered by an exemption pertaining to the confidentiality of child abuse records.

In February, Journal of the Bizarre exposed Stephen Sedensky in an article entitled Sandy Hook Prosecutor Caught in Web of Lies.  In the article, published a full seven months before the Freedom of Information Commission's ruling, we dissected Connecticut law and reached the same conclusion as Kathleen Ross- and also discovered a verifiable track record of illegal and unethical activity conducted by Sedensky during his tenure as state prosecutor-- once again proving that our crack team of investigators are on the forefront of unraveling the Sandy Hook conspiracy.  

Popular posts from this blog

The Hunt for the Osage River Monster

It's spring of 1844 in St. Clair County, Missouri. A mile or so from the banks of the muddy Osage River a pioneer settler named Matthew Arbuckle is plowing his field when he hears a banshee-like wail in the distance, coming from the direction of the river. Shrill and unearthly, the demonic howl fills the farmer with terror. Wasting no time, he unhitches his plow, jumps on the back of his horse and heads for the hills.

One hour later Arbuckle arrives in Papinville, a town fifteen miles from his farm. The exhausted horse is white with foam; its rider white with terror. In a gasping voice he tells of making an escape from an awful monster. Although he had not seen the beast, he had heard its voice, from which he could tell that it was a monster of immense proportions.

Those who heard Arbuckle's story were bewildered, and those who did not know the pioneer personally could tell, just by the bloodless pallor of his trembling skin, that the man was not telling a lie. Whatever terrify…

The Ticking Tombstone of Landenberg

If you look closely at a map of Pennsylvania, you'll see an anomalous semi-circular border at the extreme southeastern part of the state. This circle, known officially as the "Twelve Mile Circle", serves as the border between the Keystone State and Delaware. Much of the strange circle is surrounded by Chester County, one of the three original Pennsylvania counties created by William Penn in 1682. While there are many historical points of interest in Chester County, few are strange or as steeped in legend as the Ticking Tombstone.

Near the London Tract Meeting House in Landenberg is an old graveyard which contains a tombstone which is said to make eerie ticking noises, much like the ticking of a pocketwatch. Landenberg locals claim that the ticking is the result of two very famous surveyors who arrived in town during the 1760s- Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon.  A young child supposedly swallowed a valuable pocketwatch owned by Mason and later died, and the boy's head…

The Incest Capital of the World?

At the far eastern edge of Kentucky, nestled in Appalachia, resides Letcher County. In spite of its isolation and poverty (approximately 30% of the county's population lives below the poverty line), Letcher County has managed to grow at an impressive rate, from a population of just 9,172 in 1900 to a present-day population of nearly 25,000. However, even if Letcher County tripled or quadrupled its present population, there's still a pretty good chance that virtually all of the county's inhabitants would be related to each other-- thanks to one particularly fertile family whose astounding rate of reproduction can put even the friskiest rabbit to shame.

Around the year 1900, Letcher County was the home of a man by the name of Jason L. Webb, who made national headlines for having the one of the largest families in the world. According to newspaper reports of the era, Jason had 19 children, 175 grandchildren, and 100 great-grandchildren. Perhaps even more impressive was his b…