The Dixie Mafia’s

   Contract On America

               By: John Caylor

There he lay at the end of a long devilish coma in early June 1996 grasping for his last breath of air, moaning; wailing with the loud cries of an opera singer down the VA hospital walls begging for death to besiege him and take him from his misery; this scene was too much for my heart to bear. Tears streamed from my eyes as I sat there and watched the last minutes of life flow from this former Alabama Police Chief, land developer turned murderer and domestic terrorist, my Father. 

 The Chief was a staunch anti-socialist who had conspired with his Alabama big shot business buddies from Enterprise and Birmingham to murder justice in America. He wanted to return her back to the big shots at the Southern Company and St. Joe, the nation’s largest landowner, the “real government and captains of industry” to whom he believed we were all indebted.  He was an opportunist full of greed, a true believer in capitalism and fond of bones and table scarps thrown to him, by the Southern Company.  This allowed him to rise above his humble beginnings as a small Alabama dirt farmer and land squatter.

 The Chief was certainly no friend to socialism and the welfare state. The 1960’s Birmingham Police Commissioner Eugene “Bull” Connor, George Wallace, Oliver North and George Herbert Walker Bush were often counted as his hero’s and associates.  At the height of the civil rights movement Ralph Sparks, a fellow law enforcement officer, and the Chief would get their thrills by intimidating blacks at their back yard Bar-B-Que dinners. Ralph’s idea of fun was to put a pistol to the cook’s head watching the cook quiver. By commanding the attention of everyone in the name of the law, through terrorization Ralph would pull out his large penis, piss on their Sunday dinner, leaving the blacks, hungry, powerless and totally disenfranchised. The Alabama Department of Public Safety, the top Alabama law enforcement agency, was rife with this type of vile and unspoken activity well into the mid nineties.

 “Justice” in Alabama left many with a warm wet disgusting feeling in their crotch and deep emotional scars on anyone who got a taste of this type of “justice.” 

 The Chief’s best friend, an alcoholic nicknamed “Chick” Mosley was a state revenue agent.  Chick was the man who cut the leashes on police dogs in Birmingham during a peaceful civil rights demonstration in May 1963 leaving the entire nation with a virtual reality imprinted on their brain of attack dogs and fire-hoses brutally ending the demonstration.  Chick proudly proclaimed it as a way “to teach those dangerous little niggers a lesson.”  

 The events in Birmingham that day in 1963 rattled the nations conscience and helped mobilize President John Kennedy’s administration to begin efforts leading to the most far-reaching civil rights legislation in history, the Civil Rights Act of 1964.

Enterprise, Alabama, Police photo 1957, Chief with white hat front row.


 It was almost six years since I had last attempted to communicate with The Chief as he lay on his death-bed. The last time was when his new wife Alma Lois a former “Road-House” queen whose husband had been murdered by The Chief, my father, enabling her to collect seven life insurance policies cursed and banned me from their Enterprise home in July 1990 after I discovered an old manual typewriter hidden in living room furniture. The Chief had purchased the typewriter from Wayne O’Ferrel a white headed Aryan looking self-ordained Baptist minister and military surplus dealer.  He bought it after I refused to sell him mine in late July 1989 at a time when my Father was talking garbage to me about how he and his friends were going to write federal judges and straighten out the legal system in our nation.

 It was the same typewriter, which later became the subject of an intense nation-wide hunt by federal law enforcement agencies in 1990. The FBI had offered a one-half, Million-Dollar reward to anyone who was brave enough to deliver it.

  My Father was a powerful man and I didn’t like the implications in his voice. Luckily I had made the right decision because in late August an informant told me about “Declaration of War” letters mailed from various parts of the nation to the 11th Circuit Court of appeals in Atlanta and media in 11 U.S. cities.

 The FBI confiscated those letters from the newspapers and TV stations which had received them thwarting all publicity about a threatened terrorist gas attack. I was able to obtain the following copy from WAPT-TV in Jackson, Mississippi, because in late 1970 I had worked for the Jackson Daily News and Clarion Ledger. I used that edge to get a copy, which had been postmarked in Los Angeles, CA. the same day other copies were mailed from various parts of the nation.  The FBI was keeping those facts a dead secret because they didn’t want anyone to know there were many co-conspirators and it was an inside job one in which certain top agents of the FBI were complicit in. The FBI has gone to great lengths to silence any information about VANPAC and the Oklahoma City bombing, because many inside the FBI have worked as domestic terrorists staging those events.

As I write this article eighteen years later, I’m positive The Chief used his typewriter to address a Christmas package to 11th Circuit Court of Appeals Judge Robert Vance. Judge Vance’s Christmas package exploded in his face ripping his head off and seriously injured Vance’s wife from nails strapped to the device on December 16, 1989 at their Alabama home.


 Federal Judge Vance

 The following February when the FBI raided Wayne O’Ferrell’s junk business it struck me like a bolt of lightning what The Chief and his big-shot associates had done. An old manual typewriter is like the bread –n- butter of gumshoe investigating that leaves a fingerprint and almost taunts you to find it and the owner. One of the three typewriters they used had a backward “l” which had been replaced with the numeral one.

 Due in part to my previous undercover work for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms in another unrelated bombing case, both the FBI and BATF enlisted me to assist them in the VANPAC (Vance Political Assassination Conspiracy Case) at Enterprise. Both agencies knew I was out there investigating Iran-Contra drug smuggling and savings and loan failures attributed to George Bush, Sr. and the CIA and they hoped to rope me in and find out exactly what knowledge I possessed as a family member of a co-conspirator about the plan to transition America to a Fascist state from the federal court system, top down. 

 Judge Vance had been a champion of the south’s Civil Rights movement and was chairman of the Alabama democratic party from 1966-1977 who was blamed for delivering Alabama to the “Carpetbaggers” of the national Republican Party because of his controversial fight against injustice and racial intolerance.

  A “progressive liberal”, Vance was their first target in a nation-wide attack against the entire federal judiciary to force resignations of jurists who were not Fascist adherents.  Later in 1992, Goody Marshall an aide to senator Ted Kennedy of the Senate Judiciary Committee did the statistics for me and stated to me “that during the VANPAC reign of court terror almost 72 per-cent of then sitting federal judges resigned the bench rather than have a platoon of federal Marshall’s follow them around and go to into public bathrooms with them.” President George Bush, Sr. appointed their successors to the bench.

 Judge Vance was listed in 1974 by Alabama Secretary of State records as a partner to Don E. Siegelman who later became Governor of Alabama. Siegelman was recently imprisoned for seven years after a long criminal prosecution apparently engineered by Karl Rove.

 But, Judge Robert Vance was a unique target who was listed as the incorporator of Clinton Mills of Geneva, Alabama, a repressive old south cotton-mill corporation, one which exploited child labor in “sweat-shops” and shirt factories throughout the south until the mid-late seventies. 

The cotton mill crowd maintained strong ties to the powerful Genovese Crime family in New York and New Jersey as business partners.  In Geneva there was another powerful group taking hold the small town. The group was from Texas and Oklahoma and they set up shop to exploit the area. The group consisted of a future vice presidential candidate and then Senator of Texas, Loyd Bentsen who owned powerful investment companies and had a financial interest in Bentson Wholesale foods in Geneva, Alabama.

 I personally know this because Senator John Sparkman introduced me to Senator Bentsen at Geneva when I interviewed Sparkman for my boss at that time now Congressman Terry Everett. During the same time period George Bush, Jr. (Bubba) was AWOL in Montgomery, Alabama working on the Winton Blount campaign for senate and I interviewed both Blount and Sparkman and Terry published the interview on the front page of all his newspapers that week. Sparkman hoping to get the edge over Blount in the interviews with me telephoned the Secretary of Defense and had my then father-in-law Master Sergeant Bill Long transferred back home to Fort Rucker from Fort Hood, Texas and they did it in less than 18 hours. I acquired a taste of “real power” for the very first time in my life, that day riding around the Alabama countryside with senator’s Bentsen and Sparkman.

 Bentson Wholesale later merged with Fleming Foods of Texas and Oklahoma. The company refuted to be controlled by the “Trafficante Crime family” of Tampa has in the past been subject of many failed DEA and U.S. Customs narcotics trafficking investigations that I have personal first hand knowledge of.

 At that moment in June 1996 at the VA hospital in Tuskegee by my father’s side, nothing mattered, all the horrific things he had done in his miserable life, I was there to set him free from this world and I needed to forgive him because he was my father.

 The doctor was a small lady of Philippine origin who spoke broken English she asked me “had I come to do the right thing?” Yes, I replied and what forms do you have for me to sign? She handed me one and I signed it. I kissed him on the forehead and said “Daddy, I can forgive you for what you’ve done to me and how you and your big shot buddies tried to destroy my life, all because I marched to a different tune. But I can only hope and pray that God will forgive you for what has been done to America at your hand and those you follow.” I walked out the door and sat down on a park bench outside the hospital and waited. As I struggled to deal with his impending death at my own hand by a stoke of the pen, negative thoughts plowed through me and hundreds of black crows suddenly appeared flying around, landing in the trees and now sitting on the sidewalk and on the park bench next to me.

 His last words were Greed, Greed…

 The “riddle” of his death as the lone white man in a public institution, predominately black in a community of destitute poverty a hotbed of gambling and vice was far removed from his hometown at Enterprise, Alabama, where he was often “King for a Day”. What did it all mean?

  Enterprise is hometown to federal Judge Mark Fuller who was the judge who sentenced Don Siegelman to seven years in federal prison. Fuller’s father Kenneth was the prosecutor at the same time my father was The Chief. Fuller’s now retired secretary and paralegal of 20 plus years, Bernice Trawick and her husband Milton, are life long next-door neighbor’s, of my family.

Mark was appointed Coffee County District Attorney when Republican Joel Folmar retired as head of the Bush - Iran Contra drug smuggling protection network. Mark was a recess appointment as a federal Judge because he is not smart enough or clean enough to pass Congressional oversight. He is dirty and I personally know he is dirty, I know the whole damn bunch associated with him they are either family members or friends.

 Fuller and his associates took over my Father’s Colombian drug smuggling network and named it Doss Aviation and with Terry Everett’s help, Doss has dozens of CIA and U.S. Air Force contracts.

 Life has turned extremely deadly for me, beginning with my disorderly conduct arrest in 2006 at the Bay County courthouse for requesting public records in a death case related to the boot camp murder of Martin Anderson and then with the blunt force and brutal murder of my Mother August 2006. I’m up to my ass in alligators and about to sink in quicksand. But, I have only begun to fight these Nazis who have taken control of the courts in America. Please follow my next installments.

 John Caylor

Posted December 17, 2007