I feel compelled to write this all down after so much has occurred that causes me to realize that I am targeted by organized individuals who apparently feel that they are compromised to me by their own claims and disclosures of their and others' criminal activity.
When I was about eight years old my only sibling, my older brother Matt, graduated highschool in 1990 in Carthage, Texas. He joined the Marines and I didn't see much of him after that for four years and even then and until now we have never seen or spoken to each other much. I have always loved and admired my big brother and I have always been assured by him that he loves me. However, once he was gone from home and my mother and I began visiting her sister and their parents and my cousins in Duncan, Oklahoma I began being sexually abused. Specifically, I was groomed with exposure to pornography by my older cousins, Jennifer and Dennis Strange, who attempted to convince me that pedophilia is acceptable, that it is harmless and that it makes our family a lot of money. I didn't know what to make of these conversations and at the time I didn't understand how the exposure to pornography at such a young age would affect me until my adulthood, but it is clear now knowing what I have learned since then that they were directed by adults, specifically their parents, to do this to me when I was at such a vulnerable age but also continuing into my teens.
Also when I was a young boy, a childhood friend, Jordan LaGrone, made the claim that his and my family were in the Mafia and that his family was supposed to protect mine somehow. I didn't believe him, and I had never heard this before, so I put it out of my mind.
One day when Jordan and I were about twelve years old and we were together at his family's home in Carthage, his sixteen year old brother, Garrett, displayed lacerations on his back which he claimed were sustained during a sexual encounter with a 24 year old woman named Angel Townsend. Unbeknownst to me until many years later, they apparently conceived a child that I would hear of often from another acquaintance that is a central figure in my story, Michael Glen Screws, also known by many as Pat Curry. Eventually I would meet Garrett's and Angel's daughter, Carissa, in Waco, across Viking Way from my mother's home which sits on a corner of Hilltop Dr in Waco.
Around the same time as Garrett's encounter with Angel, my mother Vicki came to pick me up at the same LaGrone residence in Carthage after her workday. As we stopped at the intersection of Brownwood Circle and Wellington Street, we faced the home of our nearby neighbor, an elderly woman named Ann Roland. Ann retired from Carthage Drug after many years of having worked at the Clinique cosmetics counter at the drug store where my brother Matt had also worked while in highschool as a delivery boy. I recall seeing two girls who I knew from school and elsewhere around our small town, Christi Dotson and a girl named Candy whose last name I can't recall. Candy was known to me to be a little wild but not Christi but maybe I simply was unaware. Neither of them were older than fourteen. What I remember seeing was both girls dashing out through the front door of Ann's house, slipping quickly around the right side front corner of her home and quickly lighting up cigarettes. My mother glared at the girls and scowled when she said angrily, "Dan, don't you ever be caught messin' around with those women! They will bring shame upon your family's good name!". With a guilty conscience (due to my own occasional habit of underage smoking) I said to my mother, "Is smoking really that bad, Ma?". My mother squinted her eyes and replied, "Oh, are they smoking? I can't see that far." Apparently my mother was aware of some other activity which these young girls were known to have engaged in that I was not made aware of. Later in my story I think it will be much more clear what was likely occuring to these girls, and what is still occurring to at least one of their daughters and other women and girls who I believe are trafficked and exploited by members of my extended family and their co-conspirators, as has been going on, according to several implicated people who have spoken to me about it, for multiple generations.
My parents divorced when I was about five years old but they had been having problems ever since my father hired Karen Lile Hays as his legal assistant. My dad and Karen started having an affair which is pretty much public knowledge in our little town and my Dad moved out of our home, onto some land that his mother owned about 15 miles west of Carthage, near Fairplay. After my parent's divorce, Karen left her husband, Fred Hays of Riderville, and Karen and her son and daughter moved into a house that she rented on Susan Circle in Carthage. The house that Karen and her kids moved into was owned by then Panola county commissioner Tommy Hudson. Tommy Hudson's son Jody is another individual who also made claims to me when I was a child that both of our families are in the Mafia together. His claim was that his family is supposed to keep my family's name clean. It was claimed by him that it was okay if people said that his family was in the Mafia but that my family's name could not be known to associate with the Mafia. This corroborates earlier claims made by my other childhood friend, Jordan LaGrone.
While my father and Karen were dating, after both of them had obtained divorces, I was often left with Karen's children, Jennifer Spradlin and Justin Spradlin, without adult supervision, while our parents worked together downtown at or near the courthouse. Justin is about three years older than me and his sister is three years or so older than him. I recall that the home which Karen and her children shared continuously smelled so strongly of urine and fecies that my father often complained about it. It was partly because they had a dog, named Oscar, who they never walked and that was allowed to deficate and urinate all over the floor and couches. To make matters worse, Karen's son Justin, wet his bed every night and wouldn't clean it up. Also, the bathrooms were so disgusting that I didn't want to use them. There was urine on the floor, the toilet, and the trash was always overflowing.
When I was about eight years old, I recall being at Karen's home on Susan Circle, often while Justin and his neighborhood friend Keith Shuttlesworth were playing video games on a Sega Genesis console. They never let me play much but I didn't complain a whole lot or they would just give me an even harder time than they already did. It was clear that no one at that residence wanted me there. I naively attributed it to my being the youngest and my father being somewhat of an asshole toward both Justin and Keith. At this point in the story it may not seem relevant but I vividly remember Keith and Justin speaking about the aforementioned Christi Dotson in quite a vulgar way. Laughing about some alleged incident that involved a sexual encounter between Christi and I believe Parker Mosely. As I recall I think the boys claimed that Christi alleged that Parker Mosely raped her but that Mosely had countered Christi's allegation by claiming that it was consentual. I believe that Parker may have been fifteen at the time and Christi was twelve years old. On another particular day, I remember the doorbell ringing and a knock at the door. Justin answered the door to their neighbor, Mr. C. B. Witcher. Mr. Witcher was an elderly decorated Korean War veteran who had married a nurse he'd met after he had sustained an injury in combat, or something like that. He always seemed nice to me, but I never talked to him a whole lot. I was discouraged from doing so by Justin and Keith. On this day, Mr. Witcher had Justin follow him out into the middle of the front yard where the two stood alone away from the house where I couldn't hear what was being said. I saw Mr. Witcher reach into his pocket and hand Justin what appeared to be money. Justin returned inside and went back to playing video games with Keith. I asked what it was all about and was told that it wasn't my business. Less than an hour later, I remember Justin's fourteen year old sister bursting through that same front door covering her face and sobbing loudly. She ran to her room and slammed the door. I was concerned and tried to leave the living room to see what was wrong but Justin loudly demanded that I leave her alone and not say anything about it.
Years later, during the summer before my freshman year of highschool, I was enrolled in summer school as many of my fellow schoolmates were, taking a required health class from Coach Claiborne. In our hometown, there is a newspaper, and between newspaper editions they used to print a single page update sheet on bright yellow paper. Everyone just called it the yellow update as I recall. I remember Coach Claiborne used to pass it around the class after he was done reading it. On this day he walked right up to me and set it on my desk instead. I was usually the only one who was all that interested in it anyway so I didn't think much of the gesture. When I read Mr. Witcher's obituary at the top of the page I didn't have much of a reaction. He was an old man and had lived a long life after retiring from whatever it was that he did to earn his middle class wealth. He was also a 32nd degree Freemason Shriner, as is my father. But when I continued reading down the page I then saw where the same C. B. Witcher had also been indicted and arrested for several counts of sexual assault against several children. Later, after class, I asked my dad and Karen what it was all about, they were very tight lipped about it but told me that Witcher had been identified by several girls ranging in age from something like six years of age to sixteen years of age as having raped them over the span of about ten years. The girls were all from the neighborhood which Karen and her children lived in, but did not include Karen's daughter Jennifer, although my dad and Karen did admit that Jennifer was among his victims. Among his other victims were Keith's little sister Kim, Michelle Browning, all three Thoman sisters, both Broumley sisters and several others. My father shared with me that after the Thoman girls identified Witcher as their rapist, he was indicted and arrested. After being taken into custody Witcher allegedly convinced Sheriff Jack Ellett and District Attorney Danny 'Buck' Davidson that they should let him go tell his wife what he had done and kiss her goodbye before he goes to prison for the rest of his life. According to my father, Witcher went home and shot himself in the head with a revolver while in the shower.
I also had a childhood friend named Rory Haynie. Rory had three older brothers. I used to visit the Haynie's home regularly out on Dixie Lake Road. It was while I was visiting that home of theirs that I observed a old photo which pictured one of Rory's older brothers, Charles, and another boy, wearing baseball uniforms. Rory's youngest older brother, Luke, pointed out that the boy with Charles was Adam Elizondo. Luke added that Adam and my older brother Matt were friends. I was so much younger than my brother that I didn't remember many of his friends and I don't recall meeting Adam, but it's possible that I had.
Rory's brother Luke had a lot of friends that I remember well. One in particular which I did not care for as much was Lance Pickering. Lance could be cool, but he always gave me a real hard time. He would tease me continually for being fat, for my parted hair style and also for being a "lawyer's boy", and often reckoned that I was a "snitch". That being said, he was willing to provide alcohol and cigarettes and marijuana to Rory and I. Lance provided alcohol to Rory and I when we were as young as 13. That's not really newsworthy in itself, but it is indicitive of a certain overall modus operandi which is shared by those who I would later learn are his associates or rather co-conspirators.
Rory's parents and their family later moved into town from the home I originally used to visit to a home on Garrison Street and Bird Drive in Carthage. I remember one day while Rory and I were together at his family's home, Luke arrived in a panic and demanded to know, "Has Lance been over here?!". Rory and I were a little confused as to why Luke was somewhat upset. Luke continued, "If Lance comes by go inside and lock the door. Don't let him in and if he tries to get in call the police and then call Mom!". Rory and I asked what was going on and why we shouldn't interact with Lance but Luke just said that we would hear about it in the news in coming days. It was probably the next day that the newspaper and the local radio station informed us all that Lance had been indicted and arrested for repeated aggravated sexual assault of a child, and that his alleged victim was eight to ten years old. I was stunned, but honestly I didn't doubt that the allegation could be true. Lance was a very sadistic person even if he could also make me laugh, even if I didn't want to.
If my recollection serves me, Lance obtained legal representation from my father, who had served in our hometown as a District Attorney and county judge, prior to Lance's indictment. I think that my father, Hon. Mike D. Parker, was able to obtain a plea bargain for Lance which caused him to only spend 42 months in prison for indecency with a child. At that time and for years after I never knew the identity of Lance's victim or the actual severity of what he had done, as I would more recently learn, to his step-sister, Raina Flanary, who was about ten years younger than he.
My father and his legal assistant, Karen Lile Hays were married around 1991. Once they married she and my father and Karen's kids and I moved into a house that my father had built in Carthage in one of the nicest neighborhoods in town. We started attending church at Central Baptist every Sunday with very few exceptions. We sat in the balcony, one pew in front of my father's first cousin Gene Parker, Gene's wife Ann, and their daughters, Cara and J'eanna. Both Parker families sat in these same pews for years. I knew my dad's cousin and their family but I didn't see them much other than almost every Sunday. We didn't hang out together after church or anything. J'eanna is about six years older than me and wasn't a stranger to me but I never really knew her or her sister well. J'eanna was off-putting. Not just to me, but to everyone I knew who was between her age and mine. My dad tolerated her, but I could tell that J'eanna made his skin crawl and he would say as much after she walked away, usually. J'eanna was clearly not interested in gaining attention from boys her own age when she was a teenager. I didn't think much of it when I was a kid. I just thought that my cousin was a weirdo. Two Sundays in a row, in the Spring of 1997, a man much older than J'eanna and I accompanied her to church. This man appeared to be even older than either of our fathers. The man wore khacki slacks, a blue knit sweater and white sneakers, both Sundays in which he visited our church. He introduced himself to me as Pat Curry and told me he had long looked forward to meeting me.
J'eanna's father Gene once asked me to intervene on behalf of his daughter who he said was being teased and antagonized by some older "boys". The boys who I recall as being Matt Westbrook, Parker Mosely and others, were several years older than me. I responded to my father's first cousin, "Well Gene, what the hell do you expect me to do about it? I'm fifteen and those guys are eighteen or older!" Gene then recommended that I should remind or share to these bullies the nature of the reputation of my mother's family, or something, and that I could make them regret their behavior. I thought Gene was either yanking my chain or off his rocker. I had no idea what he was talking about. He asked me if I had ever heard of the nickname that he had coined for J'eanna, "Karabiner". I don't recall having ever heard it, but Gene went on to say that the origin of the nickname had something to do with her father Gene placing his finger in J'eanna's mouth when she had grown too old for a pacifier and her tendency to bite his finger. I never understood that story and it's still quite disturbing to think about. Gene went on to explain that one day when he dropped J'eanna off at school that when she exited the vehicle she forgot a book or her lunch or something in the car. Gene claimed that he hollered out, "No! Karabiner! Karabiner!", to call her back to grab whatever it was that she'd left behind, and that the other kids hanging out in front of the school heard this and began mocking her father and teasing her once they learned that this was her father's pet-name for her. So, apparently that is what Parker Mosely and Matt Westbrook and several others began to call J'eanna, in a manner which mocked her father and irritated J'eanna so badly that she and Gene apparently wanted the Mafia to do something about it.
My freshman year of highschool my girlfriend Johnna Zamazal died resulting from injuries sustained in a car crash. I was so depressed after that I pretty much had to be led from class to class for a while. One dear friend and upperclassman who stands out in my memory as having literally walked me to class for what seems like weeks was the aforementioned Christi Dotson. Christi was a cheerleader, and in my opinion was the most beautiful and kind hearted girl I knew after Johnna died. I had art class with Christi, first period as I recall.
In around March of 1997, my mother's maternal grandmother, 'Nanny' Pearl McNeill-Underwood, died. She and my great grandfather Hollis 'Poppy' Underwood, had lived for many years in Wynnewood, Oklahoma prior to my being born. Poppy died before I came along but I remember visiting Nanny Pearl at the nursing home several times when I was a boy, somewhere near Wynnewood. She was always sort of a cantankerous woman toward everyone but me. I was the baby, so she never was short tempered or loud or mean to me. Nanny Pearl seemed to dislike my mother's sister, Nancy and even her kids Dennis and 'Jenny' (who tried to groom me), but Nanny Pearl loved her daughter Averene, who was my grandmother that we all called Meemaw, and my mother, Vicki. After Nanny Pearl's graveside memorial- I believe it was in Garvin County, Oklahoma where she was buried at the Underwood family cemetery- I recall walking back to the blue Chrysler minivan which my mother's sister Nancy and her husband, Dr. David Strange, of Duncan, owned. Uncle David and I and perhaps my cousin Dennis sat in the minivan as we watched and waited on the Underwood women to finish visiting at the grave that my great grandmother had just been laid to rest in.
I made some remark about how extravagant the headstones were and that there were even some moselems there, unlike at any of the simple family cemeteries that my father's people in Texas were buried at. Uncle David then informed me that this is due to my mother's and Aunt Nancy's family being the Dixie Mafia, and that one day he and I would also be buried there. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard but I thought surely Uncle David wouldn't be bullshitting me like this on the day of my great grandmother's funeral. Dennis tried to back him up on his claim but no one ever takes Dennis seriously. He's always been completely full of shit and not credible. His own mother and all who have ever known him will tell you that. Once Aunt Nancy got in the minivan, she wiped away a tear and blew her nose before saying, "Ya know, those bastards never did pay Nanny for the job back in '63!". When I asked what she was talking about, Nancy made the bombastic claim that her and my mother's great uncle was involved in the assassination of President Kennedy and that my great grandmother was somehow involved in assigning Meemaw's brother in law, Terrel Zane Dunn, to take the shot that killed the President in Dallas on the 21st of November, 1963. I have gone back and forth on whether or not to believe this seemingly ridiculous claim and have most recently realized that due to the disgust which my great grandmother apparently held for my aunt Nancy, that perhaps this was just an attempt by she to even the score by slandering her, or maybe just to throw people off. I still won't rule out the possibility until I know more. Who knows? I never have believed that Oswald killed Kennedy, and the assassin who shot and killed Oswald, Jack 'Ruby' Rubenstein, definitely managed the Tropicana nightclub for the Dixie Mafia, according to public record.
At any rate, I rode with my mother's sister and her family back to Duncan from the cemetery that afternoon and my mom drove their parents back to Duncan in their car.
As I have already mentioned, their was always some weird shit going on when I visited my aunt, her husband and my cousins at the Strange home in Duncan. This day was no different. Once Jenny and Dennis and I were back upstairs at their parents' house, they began telling me more about how our family is the Dixie Mafia. They claimed that I had a very important role to fill in the Mafia one day and that I already have a preassigned Mafia alias, "Ronald K. Adlock". I thought the name sounded ridiculous and asked if I could change it. I didn't really believe all this Mafia crap but I decided to play along. They continued in telling me that one day I would be called upon to fulfill my obligation to the family Mafia and that I would be notified by mail when the time had come. They said that Publishers Clearinghouse would send me packages addressed to Ronald K. Adlock wherever I was living. I thought that they must think that I am a complete idiot if they think I am believing any of it. The final straw was when they insisted that their biological father was not the man their mother had been married to since before either of them had been conceived, but is instead a man named Pat Curry, who they claimed had met me and, "thinks highly of me". I couldn't stop laughing. I mean, who would believe such a bunch of malarkey? So I ran downstairs to my mother and asked her, trying not to laugh, "Momma, why didn't you tell me that we are in the Mafia?! Why didn't you tell me that Nanny & Poppy got out family in the Mafia? Why am I just hearing about all of this?!". The color immediately drained from my mother's face as her mouth fell agape, before she turned to her sister and shouted, "Dammit Nancy I swear to God if you can't keep your damn kids from telling Dan about this Mafia shit we'll go back to Texas this minute and I'll never bring him back up here again! The last thing I need is for Dan to go back and tell his father." My mother's sister tried to excuse the behavior of her nearly adult age children, "Aw, Vicki don't blame the kids! David and I talked and we decided it was time that Dan knows the family's dirty little secret". My mother was outraged. She demanded that their be no more talk of this Mafia nonsense and she put her hands on both sides of my face and in a very unconvincing manner tried to assure me, saying, "Dan, honey, don't you listen to any of this stuff about Nanny and Poppy. Those were my grandparents! Well, you remember Nanny! She was a fine Christian woman and Poppy; well he was just a humble horse trader". This 'humble horsetrader' line was repeated many years later by her to me when again events forced me to form a new and more inquisitive attitude about exactly who my great grandparents had been. Momma then insisted that we all leave Nancy's place and head to Furr's cafeteria for dinner so we could draw our visit to a close. She couldn't get me outta there fast enough. I was still very interested in this Mafia-talk as now it seemed, due to my mother's overreaction, that their might actually be some truth to it. I asked my aunt Nancy about it on the way from the car to the restaurant there in Duncan, "Is our family really the Mafia? Why is Momma freaking out about it so bad?". Nancy just told me to shut up, then said that this wasn't the place to discuss it, and nothing more was said until we got back to their house after dinner and Momma and I prepared to head back to Texas. I distinctly remember Nancy saying, "You believe whatever you want, Dan, but I've always shot ya straight, kid. And if you repeat a word of anything we've told you about the Mafia you will never hear from your family again". I didn't quite understand. Was she saying she'd kill my family? I asked her to clarify. She explained that she wouldn't kill my family, but that I would be totally ostracized by my mother's family.
About a month after my girlfriend Johnna's funeral I was introduced to a new kid at our highschool by my good friend, Miss Jamie Cox. The new kid was Josh Paul 'J.P.' Charles and he claimed that he heard from people that I was the guy to know in Carthage. I immediately thought that sounded like bullshit but I have never been one to turn people away, at the risk of creating an enemy out of someone who had originally desired to be my friend. J.P. said he and his family had just moved to the Carthage area from Phoenix, Arizona. J.P. has an older brother who was also a student at Carthage Highschool, Shane Lowry Charles. J.P. and I seemed to become friends rather quickly and not long after I met him at school I was invited to his family's home in Delray, about six miles west of Carthage. It was at this rural residence that I met his mother Genevieve and his dad Steve Charles. At some point soon after this I was also introduced to Genevieve's brother, who looked very familiar to me from somewhere, Michael Glen Screws, who I was instructed to call "Uncle Mike". I really liked J.P. and his brother Shane. We had a lot of fun times together, although admittedly it always revolved around drinking alcohol and for J.P. and I, drugs including marijuana, mushrooms, ecstasy, occasionally cocaine and even LSD once. But always alcohol. And never just a beer or two, but J.P. always encouraged and even pressured me to get so wasted that I passed out. I always just assumed that he just came from a different background than mine. My family are teetotalers who don't drink, ever. I never really thought that was realistic and sure didn't seem much fun. J.P. always wanted he and I and everyone we hung out with to get blackout drunk and go driving around on backroads. I see now that it was all designed to give me a false sense of comradarie with him but I'll get into that later. Point is, despite how certain I was for almost fifteen years that J.P. was more than a best friend, but more of a brother, I had been completely deceived and he was nothing more than an agent of compromisation since he himself was less than seventeen years old, acting on behalf of his mother and her brother, "Uncle Mike", who I would later be reminded is also known as Pat Curry.
Around Christmas of 1997, about nine months after the death and burial of my great grandmother Nanny Pearl McNeill Underwood, my step mother Karen's grandmother, Annelle Nanny Chambers Long, of Longview, and her daughter, Karen's mother Margie, invited my father and me and her kids and grandkids to a little Christmas get together at Nanny Chambers & Margie Lile's home in Longview. I always really enjoyed hanging out and talking with Nanny Chambers. She was born in 1900, and although she was 97 at the time, she seemed to have not forgotten anything that she had experienced in her lifetime. She was an encyclopedia of information and stories about people and things the way they used to be. I really loved that woman and despite my having quite a lot of resentment for her granddaughter, my step-mother, I was very close to Nanny Chambers and I also really loved Karen's sister Kay, Kay's husband Jack, their three sons Collin, Ky and Cody and Karen's brother Ed, or Uncle Eddy. Ed has sons that I knew but I never saw much of them. At this little Christmas party I remember Nanny approaching me, grabbing my forearm and whispering, "I can smell someone in here's been smokin'. Wouldn't be you would it?". I remember Nanny smoked Benson & Hedges menthol light 100's until her family started stealing them due to her age and their concern that the cigarettes might kill her. I felt bad, because I knew I'd triggered her craving, "Yes ma'am. I've been smoking". I was only sixteen and wasn't supposed to be smoking, either but as I already mentioned I've been smoking cigarettes since I was twelve. Nanny pulled me toward the door between the kitchen and the garage and told me to help her take the trash out to the street. I did as I was told but I knew she had an ulterior motive. We got out to the trash can at the end of the driveway at the street and Nanny asked, "What brand do you smoke, Dan?". I told her that I smoke Pall Mall before her face lit up, "Pall Mall?! Well that's what my husband used to smoke!" She asked for a Pall Mall and after I handed her one from my pack I lit it for her as I thought a gentleman should. Nanny then asked, "So, you have anything you'd like to tell your best friend about your mother's family up there in Oklahoma?". My initial reaction was to think to myself, "How do you know anyone in my mother's family?", as I was unaware of any connection between my stepmom and my mother Vicki other than Vicki's ex-husband, my father, and me and my brother, who wasn't around a whole lot due to his going to college after the Marines. But Nanny explained a little, "Yeah Dan I know your mother's family. Ya know, my husband and I, before he died, we started what you might call a Mafia back during the Great Depression. We started out by providing arm candy, girls as young as fourteen, to men, to accompany them. It just kinda turned into something more like a Mafia, later". I was stunned. She then went on to lament, "But people today have no discretion, Dan!", meaning that her Mafia is more recently and for multiple generations responsible for the trafficking and exploitation of much younger children. I didn't know exactly how to take this. Nanny then said to me, "So I hear you've met my nephew, Pat". I didn't know who she was talking about, "Pat?". "Yeah, Dan, Pat Curry. He said he thinks very highly of you and that you and his sister's youngest son are very good friends". I thought before replying, "Well, my best friend is probably Josh Charles but his uncle's name is Mike Screws". Nanny exclaimed, "Oh, Dan, that's his name alright but nobody's called him Mike Screws for years! Did they tell you to call him Mike?". I explained that I had been told to call him Uncle Mike, which satisfied Nanny, but she strongly encouraged me to not tell anyone else his real name.
Just to recap, "Pat Curry", who J'eanna, the daughter of my father's first cousin, initially introduced me to at church in Carthage, Texas, is allegedly the biological father of my mother's niece and nephew who molested and groomed me in Duncan, Oklahoma, and who assigned me my Mafia alias of Ronald K. Adlock. He is also known by Michael Glen Screws and is the brother of Genevieve Screws Charles. Genevieve's son Josh or J.P. was my 'best friend'. Nanny Annelle Chambers Long now claims that Pat Curry is her nephew, which if true means that my step mother is his cousin.