My own mom exhibited behaviors like the ones you described in your mom. She was probably just undiagnosed and deeply unwell, but she went to rural elementary schools in Roswell in the early 1950s. I wonder if these experiments were happening there too, to the dirt-floor poor farm kids at East Grand Plains or LFD. I now know that I have a genetic anomaly that causes breast cancer, but it's not the BRCA gene, it's something else that I don't really understand or have info about. My estranged sister suffered ovarian cancer a few years back. Before us, there was no known cancer in our bloodline on either side. It's weird.
Brava, Alisa! That you survived to meet this moment is nothing short of a miracle. I am honored to be one of your readers. Amid all the surrealism of day-to-day life in the USA, your articles keep me focused. Thank you! You are a true Warrior Journalist.
I'm so thankful you decided to write & share this about yourself and your family's story!! You are a diamond, that was clear, and I wondered how you came to be! I am one of 3 daughters of a single mom who escaped a cult-y commune in NM and went into journalism as well (we come from a family of writers and journalists)! I love & support your work and am grateful to understand you better!🙏🙏🙏💖💖💖
You need to write a historical novel (like Erik Larson) with your story and all of the information you have discovered about Zorro ranch. Protect your story and stay safe.
I’m so deeply impressed by your fortitude. Courage.
I’m also incredibly broken. Reading this split something inside of me.
I was raised by German Hungarian immigrants to love my country. They came here for the opportunity. They came here to get away from the damages caused by Bismarckian Europe to Catholics. Grandpa survived coal mines. Grandma went to work as a teenager for wealthy Jewish families. She came out of that experience as a phenomenal cook and a seamstress. And during the Depression, those families made sure my grandparents and their children survived. Their generosity helped keep the entire extended family alive. And then my grandparents helped shelter and reunite refugees with US and Canadian families. They lived with gratitude and honor.
Then they sent their sons to war. One of the cousins and two of my uncles survived World War II, barely. Two of the three were completely broken men. And then my other two uncles served during the Korean conflict. By the time I showed up in the mid 60s, the WWII vets were still screaming through nightmares. I remember how their terror became mine, long before I understood why.
I’m not sure how old I was when my grandmother said that a high price had been paid for me to be an American girl. But it was a refrain. I am only now comprehending the magnitude of how that belief, mixed with the damages of actual abuse, has permeated my life.
Being an American girl was my identity. It was more important than being Catholic. It was a blanket that kept me safe, or so I thought.
The world history I have studied, exposure to reality through travel, and stories like yours have all shown me that Grandma’s ‘price’ wasn’t just her sons and nephews.
I am no longer a Catholic. I am no longer a proud American. And the girl is gone. I look in the bathroom mirror and I see 62 years of wreckage. And I am floundering.
The United States of America has much for which to atone. Far more than the 250 years on July 4, 2026.
So Alisa, you are a beacon of light. A voice demanding and delivering truth. Truth that, in turn, demands accountability and permanent change. Your work has meaning and value.
Wow, what a story! It’s sickening that children were obediently drinking radiation for an experiment. How heartless people can be… On a brighter note, I remember being at the top of Sandia Crest, a wonderful experience! I don’t remember walking to the top, though. We were looking for some beautiful rosy finches. They were lovely, along with a pretty chuckar. Visiting Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge at sunset, witnessing the sandhill cranes arriving, was an amazing experience. That’s one of my favorite sounds in nature, so wild and primeval. Lovely. Please stay safe.
Thank you so much for your important sleuthing, and thank you for sharing your family story.
awful!
What an incredible story and lineage/pedigree - so many layers and unexpected happenings brought you to be the fascinating person you are now ❤️
My own mom exhibited behaviors like the ones you described in your mom. She was probably just undiagnosed and deeply unwell, but she went to rural elementary schools in Roswell in the early 1950s. I wonder if these experiments were happening there too, to the dirt-floor poor farm kids at East Grand Plains or LFD. I now know that I have a genetic anomaly that causes breast cancer, but it's not the BRCA gene, it's something else that I don't really understand or have info about. My estranged sister suffered ovarian cancer a few years back. Before us, there was no known cancer in our bloodline on either side. It's weird.
Brava, Alisa! That you survived to meet this moment is nothing short of a miracle. I am honored to be one of your readers. Amid all the surrealism of day-to-day life in the USA, your articles keep me focused. Thank you! You are a true Warrior Journalist.
I'm so thankful you decided to write & share this about yourself and your family's story!! You are a diamond, that was clear, and I wondered how you came to be! I am one of 3 daughters of a single mom who escaped a cult-y commune in NM and went into journalism as well (we come from a family of writers and journalists)! I love & support your work and am grateful to understand you better!🙏🙏🙏💖💖💖
Excellent post - thank you for sharing it with us.
You certainly were born with the genes to overcome. I respect you immensely. I am in awe of your courage and your fight to set things straight.
incredible 💙💙💙
Alisa, you were born for this. Be careful
❤️
You need to write a historical novel (like Erik Larson) with your story and all of the information you have discovered about Zorro ranch. Protect your story and stay safe.
You have an awesome and incredible family story. Thank you for sharing and please keep writing. 💪🔥
Wow! I have no other words for my reaction to this account if what happened to your family. It's a lot to process.
I’m so deeply impressed by your fortitude. Courage.
I’m also incredibly broken. Reading this split something inside of me.
I was raised by German Hungarian immigrants to love my country. They came here for the opportunity. They came here to get away from the damages caused by Bismarckian Europe to Catholics. Grandpa survived coal mines. Grandma went to work as a teenager for wealthy Jewish families. She came out of that experience as a phenomenal cook and a seamstress. And during the Depression, those families made sure my grandparents and their children survived. Their generosity helped keep the entire extended family alive. And then my grandparents helped shelter and reunite refugees with US and Canadian families. They lived with gratitude and honor.
Then they sent their sons to war. One of the cousins and two of my uncles survived World War II, barely. Two of the three were completely broken men. And then my other two uncles served during the Korean conflict. By the time I showed up in the mid 60s, the WWII vets were still screaming through nightmares. I remember how their terror became mine, long before I understood why.
I’m not sure how old I was when my grandmother said that a high price had been paid for me to be an American girl. But it was a refrain. I am only now comprehending the magnitude of how that belief, mixed with the damages of actual abuse, has permeated my life.
Being an American girl was my identity. It was more important than being Catholic. It was a blanket that kept me safe, or so I thought.
The world history I have studied, exposure to reality through travel, and stories like yours have all shown me that Grandma’s ‘price’ wasn’t just her sons and nephews.
I am no longer a Catholic. I am no longer a proud American. And the girl is gone. I look in the bathroom mirror and I see 62 years of wreckage. And I am floundering.
The United States of America has much for which to atone. Far more than the 250 years on July 4, 2026.
So Alisa, you are a beacon of light. A voice demanding and delivering truth. Truth that, in turn, demands accountability and permanent change. Your work has meaning and value.
And your courage is contagious.
Thank you.
All I can say is that I’m grateful u exist. Thank you.
Wow, what a story! It’s sickening that children were obediently drinking radiation for an experiment. How heartless people can be… On a brighter note, I remember being at the top of Sandia Crest, a wonderful experience! I don’t remember walking to the top, though. We were looking for some beautiful rosy finches. They were lovely, along with a pretty chuckar. Visiting Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge at sunset, witnessing the sandhill cranes arriving, was an amazing experience. That’s one of my favorite sounds in nature, so wild and primeval. Lovely. Please stay safe.
Thank you so much for your important sleuthing, and thank you for sharing your family story.