The subject of this post, Jamie Hargis Witmer, is a licensed professional counselor (LPC) based in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where she shares offices with Sallie L. Trecek, LPC, who is herself distinguished as one of the best therapists in Tulsa by CareDash.com.
Jamie Witmer’s son, Daniel, is reported to be a convicted felon, and charges reportedly brought against him over the years have included DUI, public intoxication, assault and battery (including on a police officer), and domestic abuse. No fewer than six mug shots of his are pulled up by a simple Internet search. One would expect that would make Mrs. Witmer particularly sensitive to the effects of accusation on the family members of the accused.
False accusations against the writer of this post by Mrs. Witmer’s niece (a few are highlighted in the text below) have been allowed to stand for 14 years. One would expect that if Mrs. Witmer were truly qualified in her profession, never mind as a human being (and a self-professed Christian), that sympathy for the writer’s mother if not for the writer himself would have motivated her to intercede.
Below is what I was called by the married niece of Jamie Hargis Witmer, LPC, after her niece had taunted me for three months in 2005 with candid references to her body and underwear, outside of my house, in the dark, minus her wedding ring, while my mother was in chemotherapy, and I had invited the woman to explain.
The message was communicated by email by Mrs. Witmer’s niece and her husband, a guy the niece had never mentioned, and it was sent to a police officer with whom the couple were on the phone as it was sent to me. An order of the court forbidding me from talking to the husband, a man I had never met, was petitioned earlier the same day by the niece.
Ron Witmer, who runs an electronics store in Tulsa called Video Revolution
Tiffany Hargis (Bredfeldt) would go on to falsely accuse me broadly that year and for 10 years after to cover up her catting around behind her husband’s back. That includes to police in multiple jurisdictions, among them the FBI, and to judges who would end up numbering in the double digits.
Because I was nice to her. And because her family produced a monster.
I asked Jamie Witmer, LPC, and her husband, Ron Witmer, for help in the interim. None was offered or came. Ever.
During the 11 years of lies that corroded and diminished my life and my family’s lives, I would be surprised if Mrs. Witmer, who identifies herself as a behavioral health specialist, or her husband did anything but support their niece with sympathetic words of encouragement.
Here’s a brief synopsis of statements their niece gave in evidence to the court or, in one instance, to the police only between the years 2006 and 2017. The story they tell isn’t the half of it, but it’s short, and its contradictions are incontrovertible. The statements provide all the background the reader will require. The lies, which may have been spread by Jamie Witmer, LPC, to people I’ll never meet likely continue today.
These crackpot allegations (and many others) culminated in four separate lawsuits initiated against me almost simultaneously in 2016, two of which sought my imprisonment. It required two more years of my life to fend them off, working with my hands and back by day in the Arizona heat and poring over legal gobbledygook by night, while Jamie Witmer crooned solacing words in her air-conditioned office and probaby profited from it handsomely. My father meantime starved to death, alone. The upshot was that though her malicious vomit continues to coat my public record, all of Jamie Witmer’s disturbed niece’s charges were dismissed, an illegal injunction prohibiting me from reporting her fictions to the court was dissolved, and she was forced to renounce any and all legal claims against me.
Then her husband apparently dumped her.
Maybe Mrs. Witmer would say she didn’t know.
Here’s what I know.
I know, because I was told by a witness, that Jamie Witmer’s niece was an emotional mess as a child, a kid who would throw tantrums and even drop to the floor and flail her arms. I know from the same source that her friends were screened by her parents, Mrs. Witmer’s brother, Tim Hargis, and his wife, GaLyn Hargis, and that unsuitable candidates were rejected.
I know from Tiffany Hargis herself that she felt isolated and confined as a girl. She showed me a choker once that she had fashioned to remind herself of what it was to be “kept on a leash.” Maybe she meant that figuratively, and maybe she didn’t. She also said her parents, who are evangelical Christians, had made her feel “like a whore.”
I know too from her that her grandfather, Jamie Witmer’s dad, I believe, killed himself. The impression I took from what she said about the gore he left behind for others to “clean up” was that her grandfather shot himself.
If I know these things, I’m confounded how Mrs. Witmer, who is a professional therapist, could have failed to recognize her niece was unbalanced and prone to attention-seeking histrionics that could only do harm.
Something else I know: Jamie Witmer has or has had close money ties with her brother and his family, which include or included a fourth-generation family cattle ranch.
I imagine money and the belief that you’re better than other people could be powerful motives for self-deception or distinterest in the damages that lies inflict.
I don’t know whether to hate Jamie Witmer for what may have been complicity or whether to simply resent her for complacency and indifference, and putting her own interests ahead of her professional ethics.
What I’m not uncertain about is that victims need the help of “licensed professional counselors” who are more than fee collectors.
From this writer’s perspective, Jamie Witmer, LPC, has merely profited by other’s suffering.
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