-
|
The following story is only one of hundreds or perhaps even thousands that could be told in the infamous annals of new-energy suppression in our country and the world. Unfortunately, many of those who would have liked to see their stories in print are no longer with us.
But Allen Caggiano — despite persecution, terrorism, and imprisonment — not only has refused to give up, but he is still alive to tell the tale.
He does so with humor and indomitable courage.
|
Early Efforts: The Bomb
In the early 1970s, I owned and operated a company called Debal Heating and Air Conditioning, in Brockton, Massachusetts. This was about the time that we had that phony gasoline shortage.
Each morning, I would sit with my employees in the gas line, with six trucks, just to get a mere five gallons of gasoline.
As I sat in that gasoline line day after day, I started to think that there must be a better way. If they have the technology to put a man on the moon, they must have the technology to get much better gas mileage.
I read everything that I could get my hands on about this technology, and it wasn't long before I had built my first fuel vaporization system.
Well, sad to say, it didn't work. It made plenty of vapors — and exploded like a bomb! Over 70 percent of my body received third-degree burns. I spent 69 days in intensive care, kissing death several times.
But don't worry, all the bugs are worked out now.
FIVS: A Fuel-Implosion Vaporization System
On October 15, 1983, my fuel implosion vaporization system was born.
At this time, I owned and operated a company, still in Brockton, called Weatherall Energy Research and Development. I had just finished building a commercial high-efficiency evaporating coil for air conditioners. I poured one gallon of gasoline in one end to flush it out, and to my surprise, massive fumes discharged from the other end. All I got back was less than a cup of gasoline.
This started me brainstorming. I miniaturized the air conditioner evaporator coil and installed it in a 1973 Dodge station wagon. Then I began ironing out all the shortcomings and bugs.
By early 1986, my company and I had a working prototype that gave 111–113 miles per gallon. So we placed an ad in the Brockton Enterprise and Boston Globe newspapers, seeking people to Beta-test our fuel implosion system.
It wasn't long before I got a call from a California corporation seeking exclusive rights to our invention. My attorney checked them out, and discovered that they were a subsidiary of several other corporations, finally all owned by one of the oil companies. I declined their offer.
It was shortly thereafter that all my troubles started.
A Campaign of Terror
First, two men showed up with IDs that said they were from the FBI. They told me that I was violating federal laws — alterations to cerebration systems — and that if I were convicted, I could get 20 years in federal prison.
I called my attorney and told him what had happened. My attorney informed me that I wasn't in violation of any federal laws.
If I had been smart, I would have stopped there. But I am not too smart.
For the next two weeks or so, I received every day in the mail a plain 8x10 envelope containing close-up photos of my wife in the supermarket and church, and my children getting on and off the school bus or in the playground at school. Just pictures.
In addition, we started getting weird calls, mostly after 2 a.m.
Finally, my wife couldn't take it any more. She left me and filed for divorce.
A few days later my attorney showed up at my office looking white as a ghost, carrying all my legal files and records. He placed them on my desk and said that he could no longer represent me in any legal matters.
I asked him why. All he would say is, "Wake up!" I did not understand. He had been my personal friend and attorney for over 16 years.
When my wife had divorced me and my friend and attorney had abandoned me, what else could happen? I thought, Nothing! Nobody can stop me now! On with my fuel-implosion system!
Boy, was I wrong!
An Encounter with the Brockton PD
All hell opened up, and it swallowed me alive.
First of all, you need to know that I am a very light drinker. If I drink six cans of beer a year, that's a lot. And I have never done drugs. I was never even around anybody who did drugs.
On July 4, 1986, Richard Sprawls, chief of the Brockton Police Department, with a bunch of other policemen, raided my home on Tremont Street and arrested me for trafficking in cocaine. My bail was set at $500.
I was lucky that I had a friend on the Brockton PD. His name was Lieutenant Jim Sullivan. Jim showed up at my bail hearing and said something to the judge — and my bail was reduced to $500.00!
Was somebody trying to tell me something?
Oh, well, back to work.
I built two more fuel implosion systems and installed them in a 1973 Olds Cutlass and 1966 Mustang. And I painted my 1973 Dodge stationwagon bright yellow, with big red letters all over it saying:
THIS CAR GETS OVER 100 MPG AND DOESN'T POLLUTE THE AIR. THE BIG BOYS ARE TRYING TO MAKE ME AND THIS CAR DISAPPEAR. "HELP ME."
I only got to drive my yellow wagon for three days.
On November 24, 1986, Chief Sprawls and other members of the Brockton police department raided my home and seized two shotguns — a 12-gauge and a 20-gauge.
Both were legally registered to me. I used to use them for skeet shooting. But I was arrested and charged with trafficking in cocaine again, and bail was revoked. I was placed in maximum security in the Plymouth House of Correction, sentenced to fifteen years for the July 1996 "trafficking in cocaine" charge, and waiting for a second trial for the November charges.
I knew where I could get some solid evidence that would clear me, but I didn't know who to trust any more. So I escaped from maximum security, went and got my solid evidence, gave it to the right person, and surrendered the same day. But, boy, I was lucky. They had over 240 law-enforcement officers searching for me, with guns, dogs, helicopters, you name it. I ran like a jackrabbit through the woods.
The woods were my old hunting grounds. That was my advantage.
Two days later, Brockton's chief of police was himself arrested. What for? For stealing cocaine from the police evidence locker! He was sentenced to two years in prison.
So now I knew where the cocaine that they found in my home had come from.
Based upon these events, the Massachusetts Supreme Court of Appeals overturned my cocaine trafficking conviction on grounds of tainted evidence — illegal search and seizure.
So I was thinking, "Freedom and home, here I come."
Wrong again.
Now They Got Serious
Back came the Feds. This time, they had a warrant for my arrest for violating a new gun law that had been passed on November 24, 1986 — nine days after my November 14 arrest.
You remember that the Brockton police seized my two shotguns, right? Guess what? I now had the privilege of being the first person in Massachusetts (and the third person in the United States) to be tried, prosecuted, and sentenced under this new law: USC 16921g and 924e.
I didn't stand a chance. There was no case law in the law books to support my defense. I was being charged with perjury, because when I bought the two shotguns there was a box I filled out that asked, "Were you ever convicted of a felony?" I had checked the "no" box because I had never been convicted of a felony.
But I had been convicted of a misdemeanor. And the Feds said that under federal law, my misdemeanor was a felony. Therefore, I was guilty on two counts of perjury. They gave me five years on each count, plus another five years for being "a convicted felon in possession of firearms."
At this point I had been sentenced to a total of fifteen years in federal prison without parole.
After a week of trial, I was sitting in the courtroom and my attorney said that the US attorney was now going to try me under the second part of the new law. My attorney said the trial would be short, that it would not last more than ten minutes.
So far, it had gone like this:
- I was convicted as a felon in possession of a firearm.
- I was convicted of perjury.
- I was convicted of a second count of perjury.
Bingo! I had hit the jackpot.
You see, USC18922g-e1 states that if you have three prior felony convictions and have possession of a firearm, then you are an armed Courier Criminal. This carries a minimum mandatory sentence of 15 years without parole.
So I was sentenced to a total of 30 years in federal prison without parole. The Feds had me tucked away for 30 years where I could not cause any more trouble with my fuel implosion system.
Right? Wrong!
I Just Wouldn't Quit
I met a lot of powerful people in the federal prison, people who had powerful connections on the outside.
One of them, Kenny D. — whose son was a Patent Attorney for a large law firm — did our U.S. PATENT No. 5,782,225 for me while I sat in the safety of the federal prison system.
And on September 13, 1997 (Friday the 13th — my lucky day), after 10 years in prison, I was released with five years parole.
What's wrong with this picture? I only did 10 years of a 30-year sentence, "with no chance of parole."
What happened was that a federal court ruled that it was legal for me to possess the two shotguns. That they had no jurisdiction.
And right now, the case is still pending in the First District Court. They will not rule on it.
So this September 2001 marked 5 years that I have been out of federal prison. And I have been a good boy. Nice and quiet.
Until now.
These Are My Intentions
In the past 5 years, I have learned that the oil companies will do anything and everything in their power to suppress this kind of technology because it could reduce gasoline consumption in the United States by 76 percent over a 5-year term.
Also, the government goes along with this because it would lose mega bucks in gasoline taxes. And the major car manufacturers are in on it, because they would lose the billions spent on the technology of the fuel injection systems. My technology makes theirs obsolete.
So I have put all of my patents and shop drawings up on a website for anybody to use. It is free!
I am 58-1/2 years young now, and the sand is fast running out of my hourglass. I don't want to take this technology to my grave.
If you think that I should get something out of this, then build my fuel implosion system, and after your fifth tank of gas send me the price of a tank of gas. Otherwise, I don't want a cent.
If you believe that I and my patent and technology have been suppressed, then go back to the home page of my website and vote "yes" for this technology. And tell my story to as many people as you can, and ask them to pass it on to others.
I believe that millions of people around the globe want this kind of technology and know that it exists.
When we get enough people wanting this technology, I have powerful attorneys who know how and are able to present it to the courts of the world.
I have seven cars that have my fuel implosion installed. I will take them out of exile and drive them from Boston to California with the whole world watching. I think my chances of reaching California alive are excellent.
Thank you for your interest.
Please help me spread the word.
|
Allen Caggiano has established a website at . You may go there to vote yes or no for his technology, or to download the plans to convert your own automobile to run on a fuel-implosion system. If you have questions or comments, Allen can be reached via email at
Also, to learn about high-mileage carburetors and hybrids that could increase your gas mileage to 200 mpg, you may visit .
This article was copyrighted in 2001 by "GET 113 To 138 MPG," and is reprinted with permission. Allen suggests — and we agree — that you might want to download whatever information you find, in case his website suddenly disappears from the Internet.
|
|
|