Is Sam Sloan the "Black Sheep" of his family?

I have received a letter from a distant relative who found his name on my family tree online. At first, he did not believe that he was my relative, but he found out that he really was. He now informs me that he has learned from a less distant relative that I am the "black sheep" of the family. Here is my response:

I have no doubt you are correct that I am regarded as the black sheep of the family. The reason for this is that my brother has been campaigning against me for years. This did not start in 1986 when my brother filed suit against his mother. My brother has been doing things against me since we were children or in high school. I have never done anything against him. I long ago gave up any hope that he would stop this. He is obsessed with me and will continue to do this for as long as he lives.
Creighton W. Sloan with his two children

My brother typically accuses me of doing the things which actually he has done. For example, he always says that I do not have a job and live off of my mother. This is not true at all. I am an incredibly hard working person. I never stop working. I do not watch television or drink or smoke or engage in any leisure activities.

On the other hand, my brother has not had verifiable employment in years. He claims to work for some top secret government agency and he is not allowed to reveal the nature of his work. My mother claims that she financed his three masters degrees, a claim which he denies.

The main thing is that my brother is constantly contacting our relatives as part of his campaign against me. Through his constant lobbying against me, he has been able to create the situation where everybody seems to think that he is the good one and I am the bad one. Through this, he has been able to get his own mother locked up for the last nine years, to steal her house and property and to have my daughter, Shamema, kidnapped.

This is why it did not surprise me at all that he has been in contact with your uncle.

Although Creighton always claimed that I have never had a job and that my mother supported me, the truth is the opposite. I have been financially independent and self supporting since I was a teenager. My brother, on the other hand, was a professional student until he was nearly 40 years old. He failed the seventh grade, he flunked out of Lewisberg Junior College, and he flunked out of the University of Buffalo. However, he was always able to find some college or university which would accept him and he always hit on our mother to foot the bill.

Creighton eventually wound up with three masters degrees, which apparently impressed his uncles, who accordingly believe that he is the good one and I am the bad one.

On the other hand, I have been working and self supporting since I was a teenager. My first job was in the Garment District of New York City in 1964 when I was 19 years old, where I worked in the accounting department of a clothing retailer. Later, I went back to the University of California at Berkeley, but even while attending university I supported myself through a campus organization called the "Sexual Freedom League". I did not need or request support from my family. Then, when things got hot for me in Berkeley, I went back to New York where I got a job in 1968 with the major Wall Street brokerage firm of Hayden-Stone, Inc. After two years in the over-the-counter trading department of that firm, I founded my own SEC licensed broker-dealer of Samuel H. Sloan & Co., which traded over-the-counter stocks and bonds, which tended to include some of the same stocks and bonds I had traded while working for Hayden-Stone, Inc.

My brokerage business was a great success. It is true that the SEC put me out of business in 1975, but by then I owned over 200 stocks and I was able to make a good living trading off of them until the 1980s. Although I had been barred from the securities business by the SEC, other Wall Street firms hired me as a consultant and I was still working on Wall Street in 1986, when the firestorm hit first from the death of my father, Leroy B. Sloan, a lawyer and an auditor for the IRS, who died on January 19, 1986, following which there was a hail storm of litigation arising from suits to get my father's estate, my mother's assets and to kidnap my daughter, Shamema. All of this litigation, which has engulfed my family ever since, was masterminded and coordinated by my brother, Creighton Wesley Sloan.

Thoughout the same period that I was involved in productive work, my brother Creighton was a student or he worked with various theatrical groups doing stage productions. He likes being an actor on stage. He worked for the Greenbriar Theater in West Virginia and before that with a theatrical group apparently connected with the Dallas Symphony. These tended to be minimum wage jobs. Since he often moved about the USA, he would get a contract before taking a job, especially since he was often quickly fired. In one instance in Charlotte, North Carolina in about 1985, he was fired after less than six months on the job, but since he had a contract for one year, the company had to pay him to sit at home for six months.

During all these years, he was constantly hitting on my mother for more money. My mother had a good income, because she worked as a medical doctor and a practicing child psychiatrist. However, she was an incredibly frugal person. She grew up on an Iowa farm, where she made her own soap. She retained this habit and throughout her life she has always saved her bacon grease and when she had saved enough, she would use that plus lye to make a batch of soap. She was horrified at the way my brother would spend large quantities of her money, money which she had saved through such careful frugality.

She always wanted for my brother to stand on his own two legs and to cut the apron strings. However, whenever she tried to do that, my brother would badger, harass and threaten her until she broke down and gave him more money. The word my mother most frequently used to describe my brother was that he was a "bully".

Finally, in 1986, she could stand it no more. She asked me to take her out of the country, somewhere, anywhere that Creighton would not be able to get at her and her money. It was entirely her decision to leave the country. I wanted to stay and fight. By chance, it happened that I was already scheduled to go to Rio Gallegos, Argentina for a chess event, the World Under-16 Chess Championship, so I took my mother and my daughter, Shamema, along.

Argentina was cold and economic conditions there were terrible, so after one month we went to Brazil. In Brazil, crime and violence were rampant and I feared for the safety of my mother and daughter, so we went to Paraguay, Spain, France and Hungary. From there, we flew to Dubai, United Arab Emitates, where another chess event was taking place. We spent the next four years in the United Arab Emirates. During this entire four years, my brother was trying to have his own mother kidnapped and brought to him by force, plus my brother was trying to have my daughter, Shamema, kidnapped and handed over to Christian religious fundamentalists.

In December 1986, three months after my mother had fled the country, my brother and his Uncle Cassel hired a lawyer, Killis Howard, to bring suit against my mother. Incredibly, the judge in Lynchburg, Judge Miller, placed a freeze on all of my mother's assets, ex-parte, without my mother ever being notified of the suit. That freeze is still in place to this day. Judge Miller then disqualified himself from the case, but no other judge in Virginia has been willing to take this case, so no hearing on this ex-party freeze has ever been held.

During these four years, my brother constantly contacted the US embassies around the world and claimed that my mother was being held by me against her will. My mother went once a month to the US Embassy to collect her social security check. The reason for this unusual arrangement was that my brother had a history of stealing her check. If my mother had the check sent by mail, my brother would notify the Social Security Administration that she had moved back with him and to have the check sent to his address instead, even though my mother had not been there in years.

The only way my mother could be sure of getting her monthly check, which was for $1500, was to have it sent to the US Embassy, and she would pick it up in person.

Consular officers at the US Embassy change frequently. Whenever my mother went in to pick up her monthly check, the consular officer on duty would have received one of these many messages from my brother that she was being held against her will and that she wanted to go back to America to be with him. The consular officer would interrogate my mother about this, before handing over the check. Every time, my mother would tell the consular officer that she wanted nothing to do with Creighton and wanted to stay where she was. I am sure that the various US embassies and the US State Department have kept records of these interviews.

In 1988, when I had actually gone to America to take the mother of my forthcoming child to give birth there, my uncle, Cassel Jacobson, who was my brother's main financial supporter during this period (since my brother was no longer receiving money from my mother, he had hit upon his uncle for money instead), sent a telegram to the US Embassy in Abu Dhabi that I was in jail in America and my mother should come to America to get me out. This was not true, of course, but the United States Consul General, Robert Murphy, believed it and went to my mother's home with one of his assistants, explained the supposed situation to my mother and took her by the arm, attempting to lead her out the door.

My mother punched Robert Murphy in the nose and hurt him badly, he later said. This ended the attempts by Robert Murphy to remove my mother by force.

However, in 1990, a new consul general was appointed to Abu Dhabi (whose name I forget) and, not understanding the seriousness of the situation, decided that the embassy staff was devoting far too much time to recording and handing over to my mother her monthly checks, so he instructed the staff not to hold her checks any more but to have them mailed to her instead. Because of this, my mother was not able to get her checks on a timely basis.

We then took what was supposed to be a trip to the Philippines, but I was not allowed to enter that country because of an ongoing dispute I was having with Fortunato D. Oblena, the Philippines Ambassador to the United Arab Emirates, so we were sent to Thailand instead. When my brother found out that we were in Thailand, he flew to Thailand himself (his Uncle Cassel paid for the ticket) but he did not come to see his own mother, even though he knew where we were. Instead, he went to the US Embassy and enlisted the help of Stephen R. Pattison, the United States vice-consul stationed there, in his efforts to kidnap both my mother and my daughter. Pattison referred him to a lawyer named Boonchoo. Creighton hired Boonchoo to kidnap both my mother and my daughter, with the help and assistance of Pattison, whose help was necessary to smuggle my mother out of the country. Creighton then left Thailand and went back to America, so that he would not be implicated in the kidnapping.

The kidnapping of my mother was successful and took place on September 3, 1990. Boonchoo had me arrested. I was held in jail for five hours, which gave him enough time to heavily sedate my mother and get her on a flight out of the country, no doubt after paying bribes to Thai immigration officials.

My brother's efforts to have my daughter kidnapped as well were not immediately successful because, to his surprise, I got out of jail after only five hours and immediately took Shamema and my two other children to Maesai, at the most northern point in Thailand, where the Bangkok police had little if any authority. A few days later, I was able to get my children across the border at Hat Yai into Malaysia, by paying a bribe to the border police there, who had been alerted to try to stop me if I tried to cross at any border.

Nevertheless, we did not make good our escape because, after reaching the safety of Malaysia, I made the mistake of going back to United Arab Emirates. Boonchoo had contacts there and through these contacts was able to have my daughter, Shamema, kidnapped on October 7, 1990 from the front yard of my house. This kidnapping was paid for by Charles and Shelby Roberts, who wanted my daughter brought to them for religious purposes.

After having my daughter kidnapped and brought to them, the Roberts filed a case in court for her custody. Many people who had helped the Roberts believed that they already had legal custody or had adopted my daughter. This was not true. What they did have, however, was something much better. They had a local family court judge who was in their hip pocket, namely Judge Lawrence Janow. They knew what decision Judge Janow was going to make, and for this reason had felt secure in kidnapping my daughter.

In these court proceedings, first before Judge Janow and later before his former law partner Judge Gamble (who incredibly got himself appointed as the judge even though he had been one of the attorneys who in 1986 and 1988 had filed still pending court cases against me and my mother) my brother came up twice from South Carolina to testify against me. Creighton testified that the Roberts should be allowed to have custody of my daughter, even though he had never seen me with my daughter and had no knowledge of the relationship between us. Creighton testified in court that I regarded my daughter to be "a piece of property".

In September 1991, the Roberts had me arrested again. Actually, the Roberts combined with my brother have had me attested 15 times. On all the other times, the charges, if there even were any, were dropped within a few hours or a day or two at the most, but this time the judge was Judge Gamble, who also had a lawsuit pending against me. Of course, I vehemently objected at Judge Gamble being the judge and demanded that he disqualify himself, but he refused. By this time, my own funds were exhausted. Creighton was obviously by then getting all of my mother's pension money, including her social security check of more than $1500 monthly plus her pension check of $3500 monthly, for a total of $5000 per month. Judge Janow and then Judge Gamble disqualified two lawyers I had paid to represent me: Steve Martin and James Massie. I then got the Lynchburg Public Defender, James Hingeley, who is known to fight hard for his clients, so Judge Gamble disqualified him as well. Each time, I strenuously objected to Judge Gamble's involvement in the case, because he was obviously the opposing attorney, in that his own client was suing me. Judge Gamble then appointed the weakest attorney in Lynchburg, David B. Bice, an attorney who he know would not do anything to defend me.

If my mother had had her own funds, she of course would have extended any amount to hire a lawyer to defend me. However, my brother had either frozen all of my mother's money or had taken the money himself, so all of my mother's $300,000 cash in the bank was effectively under his control. Needless to say, he was not going to provide any money for a lawyer to defend me.

So, in short, I do not regard myself as the "black sheep of the family", even though my relatives may think of me that way.

My brother is 21 months younger than I. I was born on September 7, 1944. He was born on June 27, 1946. I have read that an age difference of two years is the worst gap for sibling rivalry. If the children are one year apart, they are almost equals and get along well, and if they are three or more years apart they are too far apart to be rivals. Two of my own children are less than one year apart. My son Peter was born on October 22, 1978 and my daughter Mary was born on October 18, 1979. Yet, they get along famously. Of course, the fact that they are one boy and one girl and not two boys helps.

What makes my case unusual is that my brother and I are now both more than 50 years old. By our ages, this sort of problem should have ceased. However, I am sure that my brother will never stop attacking me. My mother is 89 and has $300,000. I am sure that when my mother dies, my brother will have taken steps to make sure that he gets all of her money and that I and my children do not get a dime.

If you ever happen to see Creighton Wesley Sloan, ask his what his job is and what he does for a living. Unless he has changed his story, he will tell you that he works for some top secret government agency and he is not allowed to reveal his job, the nature of his work or who he works for.

Sam Sloan

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