Uncle Phil Said He’s a SICK F–K: On Transmitting Bad Values to Children (Inspired by Fletcher Cheezum, Bailey Cheezum, Logan Cheezum, and Baby Cheezum, Whose Dad Preaches Sunday Sermons at Montrose Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church)

Posted on July 13, 2019

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The phrase “SICK FUCK” was one I was labeled with in a document submitted to the police by the brother-in-law of Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, whose four children are the inspiration of this post. Those children’s aunt, uncle, and grandfather, who are today prohibited by mandate of the court from harassing me further, endeavored to have me imprisoned based on false, filthy, and/or frivolous allegations. They employed unscrupulous attorneys and exploited laws that are typically criticized by conservatives as destructive to the family (conservatives, it’s worth noting, like those of Pastor Cheezum’s evangelical Christian congregation). Conservatives criticize the laws for good reason: While advocates of these laws pay lip service to child welfare, children are arguably the predominant victims of the laws’ commonplace abuse. Among the ways children are damaged is exposure to the twisted games that self-indulgent adults play…self-indulgent adults like Jeremy Cheezum’s in-laws.


Phil Bredfeldt, Tiffany Bredfeldt PhD, Tiffany Bredfeldt TCEQ, Tiffany Bredfeldt EPA

This message was communicated to me by email on the first day of what would become 12 years of legal harassment by the aunt and uncle of the children who inspired this post. Their uncle Phil I had never met. Their auntie Tiffany I knew better than I ever should have. She had nightly lingered outside of my house for months and taunted me with references to her body and underwear, apparently relishing the attention. Then she lied to the police and the court to conceal her misconduct when I learned she was married and demanded an explanation—and she has lied over and over since (as testimony I’ve included below shows plainly). The message above was sent after Phil and Tiffany Bredfeldt had obtained a court injunction forbidding me from responding to it. Sort of like a four-letter nyah-nyah. The couple thought it would be cute to send a copy of the message to the police, apparently to reinforce the idea that they were afraid for their lives (because why wouldn’t you provoke someone you were afraid of?). I was an aspirant kids’ writer with a puppy and a parent in chemotherapy. Maybe the spoiled brats thought that was funny also.

Like many or most of those who visit this site and identify with its accounts and criticisms of false accusation and abused and abusive laws, I’ve been lied about a lot and for a long time, and the lies may continue today.

I have no way of knowing.

What I do know, because I know I’ve been monitored for as long as I’ve been lied about, is that there’s no one I’ve appealed to for help over the years who can possibly be unaware of the truth today.

That includes the Reverend Jeremy Cheezum, today minister of Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church in Montrose, Colorado. If mention of his name attracts any of his congregants to this post and site, so much the better, because I think they’re exactly the kind of forthrightly ethical people who are offended by the excesses of feminism and #MeToo movementeers.

I appealed to Rev. Cheezum for aid a number of times. I reckoned a pastor, a person who might well identify himself as an evangelist of truth, would be eager to serve the truth and promote peace.

Not only did I never hear from him, but his wife’s father, Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, volunteered to testify in court five years later to have me jailed while my father lay dying and to have me forbidden, besides, from ever sharing the truth with anyone in any way for the rest of my own life. In my appeals to Pastor Cheezum, I had told him that cleaning up Auntie Tiffany’s accusations would be costly. The good reverend evidently passed my appeals along to his in-laws whose shyster lawyers represented them to the court as extortion. The allegation was baseless, and it was abandoned when I declined to be intimidated and submit to their terms.

Their terms boiled down to disappear and die.

Here’s a synopsis of statements Fletcher, Bailey, Logan, and the littlest Cheezum’s aunt gave in evidence to the court between 2006 and 2016. The story they tell isn’t the half of it, but it’s succinct, and its contradictions are indisputable. (The children’s uncle, Rev. Cheezum’s brother-in-law, was incidentally privy to all of these statements and supported them fully, including under oath.)











People of moral character might call the woman a liar, a crackpot, or a number of other things. What they couldn’t call the woman is a victim.

I’ve never met Rev. Cheezum or his kids. The children, however, I pity, because I don’t think this conduct is a kind that should be role-modeled. Some might even call it against the law.

Rev. Cheezum and his wife, Kim, have seemed cool with it, and to me that’s worse role-modeling yet. And what a simple Google search suggests is that their kids spend a lot of time with Grampa Bredfeldt, a man who sought to have me shut up and locked away to save face and expense.

I’m reminded of a Biblical quotation about whited sepulchers, and some readers of this post may be too.

Copyright © 2019 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

*My father starved to death in 2016, without dignity or grandchildren, alone in a cramped room in a cut-rate nursing home, while the latest series of prosecutions brought or motivated by the family this post concerns was raging. I spent the last night of my dad’s life preoccupied with another family’s shit. These people have allowed their disease to corrupt and diminish others’ lives for almost 14 years.

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