Kiraly Family History

1. Overview of Family History page

This is a personal page. Very personal, I guess. This page talks about me and my loving and caring family. The content is probably of only incidental interest to attorneys.

If TMI (Too Much Information) makes you uncomfortable, you probably shouldn't read this page.

Here are links for all the other pages on the website:

Main Page To return to the main page, click here.
Case History This link is the heart of it for attorneys.
Specific Rebuttals The Case History tries to cover everything. I'd like to organize rebuttals into a point by point form as well but I'm hampered by a lack of electronic copies. However, this link does this for some representative points.
More documents For more documents related to the case, use this link.
Acknowledgments If you are somebody I know, there may be a message for you at this link.




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2. About me

2.1. I'm Robert Crowley, a software engineer and writer in his mid-50s. The name is Anglicized; the original spelling is the same as the one my father uses. I don't use that spelling much presently except for legal purposes.

2.2. I'm also autistic or have a similar condition. I probably think and speak differently than you do. One issue is that I'm literal. To me, facts are usually facts. I like poetry and metaphors and so on. But facts are special. They are real. It isn't like this for other people.

As a related note, I know that people lie, especially to themselves, but somehow it still surprises me.

The fact that lies by the Kiralys still surprise me does not speak well of my own potential to learn from mistakes.

2.3. My condition was diagnosed in the 1960s though only in a manner of speaking. Or as a manner of speaking. At the time, they called it "speech difficulties". I didn't stutter but I was sent briefly to a class for children who stuttered. There was no actual treatment for the condition. Instead, there was abuse at home because James Kiraly viewed it as "attitude".

As a related note, there are parallels to full autism in my case but I can talk 'n' stuff so it is not full autism. There is something unusual about the two sides of my brain. Speech and writing are more different than is typical.

Evidence of something strange apparently turned up in a neurological workup that was done in the 1980s. The neurologist who did the workup wrote about what he noticed in his notes. But he didn't say anything to me about this. I didn't learn about the issue until I read his notes years later.

2.4. I've been a bit unwell since around 2000. It's not a big deal. I walk normally most days but I spend part of my time in a wheelchair. Food started to make me ill a few years ago; so I sometimes fast for a week or two at a time.

Last year I came close to losing two of my fingers. This year it appeared for a while that a hand might be lost. There was swelling that seemed serious enough that I thought it might cut off circulation at the wrist. I don't know if this was actually possible or not but it was disconcerting.

Something odd has also happened to the system that controls breathing and sleeping. On some days, if I don't take regular breaks to breathe deeply, I became very sleepy. A few minutes of breathing differently seems to fix the problem. In the past, this only happened if I ate food. Recently, it seems to happen all the time.

Summer 2011 was a little difficult. I wasn't able to move well enough to get food or painkillers for two weeks. This is when I received my wheelchair. Somebody came and provided me with the wheelchair. They then purchased food for me. Bread, tomatoes, etc. Simple things but I was glad to see them.

My life was saved but I didn't walk much for a month and didn't recover fully for about two months. Shortly after that my parents boosted my spirits in their own kind and pleasant way. We'll come back to the sequence of events.

On my first trip outside by myself during my recovery I went on crutches to eat at Armadillo Willy's, a BBQ place. I became trapped on the way home and couldn't move. I must have looked odd standing there. A nice graduate student saw me and drove me home. We talked about his Christian faith.

On the second trip outside, I made it almost all the way home. But just a few yards away, I ended up getting stuck and unable to move again. It took me about an hour to move the remaining distance.

Right now, as I type this, there's some new pain in a thumb but it's only affecting typing slightly.

So, nothing too unusual. The medical stuff is only mildly interesting. But it should be mentioned because my family says I've tried to extort money from them to get medical care. Actually, the main thing that's been said about medical care is that I should pray to Jesus more often.

I've heard the Jesus advice from quite a few people; not just family members. So it must be valid.

Dear Jesus:

Could I please not be so sick any longer? It's been 12 years. That's quite a while.

If You listen, You know that I scream at night sometimes with the pain. Sometimes I can't walk. It's been two months now since that happened so maybe it won't come back. But it always has.

Sometimes I can't eat food. One weekend in April I couldn't get water but Ziyad kept me company on the Internet. I called George and Sandy Kerechanko too. I think Sandy and I talked about her greeting card venture as I lay there without water. I like what she does at work because it makes people happy.

In May 2012 I thought I would lose my hand. The circulation was cut off. Oh, well. Things happen. But the breathing cycle thing has sped up this month. What's up with that, Jesus? Are You having a little Fun?

Wait, don't tell me. Grace Kiraly has already explained this. I'm sick because I made "decisions" which the woman is unable to define or articulate. "You must have done *something* Bob! Because otherwise I might need to feel bad! This is about me, Grace Kiraly! It is important that I feel good! If I admit that you don't deserve this then I will feel bad!"

But, wait. The Kiralys have cheered me up with the tender gifts that they offer me: hatred of that which is different; and perjury. They hate in Your Divine Name. They Lie for You. Truly I must respect the gifts.

James Francis Kiraly. Grace Violet Kiraly. Thomas Evan Kiraly. Kenneth Paul Kiraly. You are doing the Will of Jesus. I am sure that He will bless you for it.

Jesus, a job would be nice. I'm very good at some things. I think I might be among the best. But I talk differently than normal people so it's hard. Is the way that I speak Your special gift to me? Please, may I have a family instead? After half a century, so long in the cold and the dark, could I have people who will love me and not hurt me?

Is there a reason that You sent me to the Kiralys? A reason that Fundamentalists were given a child who was different? One that they would revile as ungodly and never be able to say why? A child who would start to believe what people like this thought and dwindle away until nothing was left?

Did You do this to make me strong? Was James Kiraly supposed to terrorize me? To knock me down both physically and emotionally? Did you ask Thomas Kiraly and Kenneth Kiraly to hurt me in all the small petty ways? To see me only as an object; never under any circumstances as somebody with feelings?

What was Grace Kiraly for? To hug me? I don't remember that even once as a child.

Was this woman supposed to take care of me? To be interested when things went somewhat wrong at school and my bones were broken, or I was beaten with objects, or I was chased by small mobs, or I withdrew to the edge of catatonic, or I was knocked unconscious, or I was struck so hard that I couldn't breathe and suffocated?

If taking care was the point, You have quite a sense of humor. This was the period where Grace Kiraly says I was "having problems with" James Kiraly. I'd go through things at school. Then I'd go home and James Kiraly would start in on me. It was interesting. I was in poor shape after this period. I've tried to explain this to Grace. Here is what Grace Kiraly Christ Follower says about injuries and terror: "Oh, Bob. You are so easily hurt".

The suffocated incident happened outside a museum where Twisted Time and I used to go as boys. As a separate point, Twisted Time remembers the best time that James Kiraly hurt me. When I searched for Twisted TIme a few years ago and found him in the hospital, it was one of the things we talked about. He has created a secondary email address for this project that the Kiralys won't be able to delete without Public Relations repercussions. He also plans to host a copy of the project.

I love Twisted Time. I can love people now. This wasn't possible in the Kiraly household. There wasn't anybody to love so you couldn't learn to do so.

Jesus, was Grace supposed to buy me medicine as a child? I bought my own medicine to stay alive. With my own allowance. Children aren't allowed to buy that drug any longer; it's a controlled substance now. What do the ones who live with people like the Kiralys do today? I worry sometimes about them.

Actually, I worry more about the weak ones. The ones who believe they are worthless because people like James Kiraly and Grace Kiraly raise them that way and drive the lesson home every day.

Jesus, I know the answers. It is all part of Your Divine and Ineffable Plan. Therefore Thank You and Amen.

3. Ancestors and parents

This is a rough draft. The book version will provide a broader picture.

James Francis Kiraly didn't know much about his family. I'm the one who researched most of it. The Kiralys were prone to infidelity, marital violence, suicide, and child abuse. I heard interesting stories about some of these issues from an elderly relative that James never met.

James himself was raised by his mother. If I remember correctly, his father had punched his mother and knocked her through some glass. I may have the details wrong but the marriage ended shortly afterward regardless.

As far as I know, James never saw his father again. I learned the details of James' father's death and told him about it. James didn't look at me
or acknowledge that I had spoken.

James was idealistic when he was young. He was also of adequate intelligence though he was below some of his children. And, some things that he kept to himself, he had a violent temper and was OCD as well.

Grace Violet Kmeta was the daughter of Ivan Kmeta, also known as Myroslav Ichnianskyj, a writer who was well-known in some countries. Ivan's books play a key role and a confusing one in the allegations against me. I told my brother Thomas that we needed to discuss how Ivan's books should be distributed in the event of my death. Thomas has stated that this remark indicates I am attempting to extort money from him.

To read more about my grandfather, Google for the three words Ivan Kmeta Efimovich.

Ivan was gentle in his old age but apparently strict with his children. As a young adult, Grace rebelled and had at least two boyfriends: Bill Kiraly and his brother James.

Grace became pregnant either once or twice. It isn't clear who was the father of which baby. Based on something odd in the chronology I am starting to wonder if Bill was the father of a baby that was lost earlier than the period Grace has talked about. But the only person who might have been able to explain things (Grace's brother Tony) is long dead.

The pregnancy (or pregnancies) ended in miscarriage. Grace married James during one of the pregnancies but when she told me about this she was careful to explain that she did care about him. Additionally, James apparently seemed like a better match than Bill did. I gather that James came across as stable and potentially successful.

James wasn't stable. But he *was* successful. He became a respected high-level person at Transamerica. I remember watching as they built the Pyramid. James seemed proud of his role there; at the company in general and the Pyramid in particular.

Four children followed: Robert, Thomas, Kenneth, and Scott. Caring wasn't quite enough. James proved to be violent and abusive. He'd smash things or tear them up. I remember wandering into the living room at age five and not understanding the destruction that I saw.




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Grace now denies that James injured her personally. But the records of her injuries may still exist.

This leads into an interesting point. With time, reality shifts for people who have normal neurotransmitters. What matters to them is the way that things are supposed to be. Not the way they are. As a related example, when I talked to Grace in 2012 about the time that James chased me out of the house half-naked, she neither acknowledged nor denied that it had happened. Instead, she said loudly "My husband is not a brute!" This is what mattered to her; a vague value judgment as opposed to the facts.

Grace also used to say things like "Is that what you think of me?" when I talked about various facts. I never knew how to respond. How somebody thinks about something is irrelevant to the facts. What the Hell was she talking about?

For a while, Grace drank gin to cope with the burdens of her marriage. She'd pass out with the bottle nearby. Today she says this only happened once but I remember seeing her this way in more than one place. It might have been a lot of times or just a few. I honestly can't say.

To a literal child, a drunk mother was confusing. The mother wasn't asleep but she wasn't awake either. She could almost talk but not quite. What was this third state supposed to be?

At one point, Grace left James and flew away with her small children in tow. I remember the trip. I vomited on the airplane. I also missed my room. It had my shelves of books and my globe. Would my possessions be all right without me? It is odd but this is what was in my mind.

There wasn't really anywhere permanent to go so Grace returned to James. A decade later, in the 1970s, she asked her husband to move away. He did for a while and the house seemed odd. Quiet and pleasant. But he came back.

Grace also sought my counsel on numerous occasions in the 1980s when she was upset with James. But by the 1990s they were aging and had finally settled in together. Today they travel together, they know each other's boundaries, they are comfortable. I can't imagine them apart.

The three older children went on to successful careers. Or partly successful; my own career fell apart after the dot-com era. The youngest child was OCD and dangerous. The OCD component may have been inherited from James, who thought people didn't know he was OCD.

As an interesting side note, one worth thinking about, Thomas and Kenneth each named one of their children after their own father James. As my book evolves I'd like to write about the choice of the name.

4. Kenneth Kiraly

This part is being written. It should be viewed as simply an outline.

How do I remember Kenneth Kiraly the person who apparently made the Amazon Kindle?

I remember a baby who learned to walk. I helped to teach him. The expression on his face shone quite clearly; he was very pleased.

There was a little boy who was ferocious. Nobody pushed him around. Except his father was brutal and outweighed the little boy. Once they were shouting at each other. The little boy had an older brother who was frightened. Would the man kill the younger boy? So the older brother, who was foolish, smashed a car door on his fingers. Oh, look; injuries. Now there is no time to focus on hurting the other boy.

When the little boy was older, once or twice, there would be shouting. His older brother would say, "Let us go to the movies. Surely it is a coincidence that I would suggest movies during the shouting." And the little boy would not be killed.

Kenneth and I used to do experiments with electricity that were wonderful and dangerous. Sometimes things would explode.

I taught a teenage boy to drive a car. Oddly, later on, he denied this had happened. But there was a photograph that proved. Silly facts, they are so inconvenient. But why did the teenage boy need to deny this?

When Kenneth was about 19, he was frightened of differential equations and dropped out of school. He didn't want to move back with his father and mother and be a failure. So he moved into my apartment and lived there rent-free for years. Transportation food, and everything, all free. He enjoyed it because he liked to curse at me all the time. Even while we were shopping. People stared as I bought dinner for the teenager who was cursing at me.

I got Kenneth his first real job. At my company. I taught him to code in 'C'. He was good.

We hired Thomas Kiraly, our brother, for a while. Thomas had only worked at cooking hamburgers and needed something besides hamburgers his resume. He was very good too.

The CEO looked at the three brothers and was amazed. Two actual geniuses and one young but sensible CFO type. The CEO said, "Let me hire the fourth brother! Bring him!" But the fourth brother was OCD and dangerous. So we did not bring him.

I suppose it should be mentioned that it wasn't really James that made Grace's life difficult. James did smash things and shout and generally be angry. But Grace was drained primarily by the youngest brother. He wasn't toilet trained until age six and he hated Kenneth and there were other problems.

The Kiralys sent the youngest brother to a sort of Christian Prison in the mountains for a while. I was the only one of the brothers to go visit him. While they were preparing to send the youngest brother away, I seem to remember that Kenneth came to stay with me again. I believe the Kiralys were afraid that the youngest brother would injure Kenneth. But this period is not clear in my memories.

A few years later, some difficult things were happening to me. Kenneth made my happy and joyful by bullying me and taunting me on every possible occasion. He was an adult now but still a bully who mocked and cursed and played small jokes like a teenager might.

There was one thing Kenneth liked to do that I never understood at all. He didn't like our mother, Grace Kiraly, very much; this was understood. But he was surprisingly willing to hurt her in order to hurt me. If I gave Grace gifts, for her birthday or holidays such as Christmas, Kenneth would always look for things that were wrong or inadequate about the gifts and mock them right in front of her. He didn't care if this made Grace sad. She made light of the matter, not realizing that this made me sad. Were my gifts, gifts that I thought long and hard about, so inconsequential?



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Later on, Kenneth worked for Logitech which did a spin-off named Multiscope. I invested more money in Multiscope than Kenneth did initially. He said that he couldn't have his brother show more faith in him that he had himself. So he upped his investment. Subsequently he denied this had happened. It is not clear why he would need to deny this.

One of the people at Multiscope was murdered. It was odd because I had met him. Note: Kenneth could not have done it because it happened in another country.

The money went away. Kenneth and his older brother went for a little walk. "The money is gone." he said. His older brother replied, "Don't worry it is fine."

But buyout offers came in soon after. Kenneth Kiraly wanted Microsoft but was forced to go with Symantec due to letter of intent. He ended up working for a man who had problems and was in the news. I mentioned the problems to Kenneth after he returned from a plane trip. I had the impression Kenneth was angry I'd been so presumptuous as to comment on his business.

I went to Kenneth's pre-wedding party with Montasar Swaiss our mutual acquaintance. I sat right next to Kenneth. But he stared through me at the wall and didn't speak to me. I didn't exist. So I was frightened and didn't go to his wedding.

I only remember seeing Kenneth Kiraly one more time. Thomas Kiraly's children crippled our mother Grace for life. They thought it was a fun game. All the brothers were there afterward. I gave Thomas's son, who had crippled my mother, a book about dinosaurs. I was told later on that he loved the book and often slept with it.

Then Kenneth made the Kindle and I never heard from him again. Not after I lost my career or became sick or any of it. God Bless You, Kenneth.

Grace talked about Kenneth sometimes. Once she mentioned that he had come up to her and said, "When I was a boy your cooking was terrible." She pretended the remark didn't hurt her but it did.

5. Thomas Kiraly

As with the other sections this is simply an outline.

I remember Thomas Kiraly V.P. of Humana as tall and handsome. He was also cruel and unpleasant though not as harsh as his brother Kenneth.

Thomas and I were close in age but we didn't have much sibling rivalry around the age of four. I don't know about earlier. We shared an imaginary friend. I remember the imaginary friend's name but I won't share it because it is silly.

During school years Thomas quickly realized that I was different and never spoke to me again except to hurt me.

I hurt Thomas on three occasions during childhood. Once by accident. Twice when he came very close to me in an angry way and seemed to be attacking me physically. Most of the time he hurt me instead.

Thomas was the lively and normal boy. Well, sort of normal. Actually he was grim and angry. His mother Grace complained about this to me years later. Tom sometimes set fires, smashed windows, got drunk. But he also had school plays, a band, that sort of thing.

I think the band may have been called "Night Blooming Jasmine" but I'm not sure. I believe I suggested the name "Metro" but I don't remember if the suggestion was considered.

Thomas provides me with a rare positive memory of this family. He was a bedwetter until a late age. But I don't think anybody teased him about this. If it's true, this is positive.

I dutifully recorded the bedwetting issue in my journal. No offense was intended. Somebody scratched it out. If that was Thomas he was probably pissed; pun intended.

As a side note, the journal was useful for more than one purpose. While still a preteen I invented a numeric system that I used to assess my mental state. When James and others hurt me the numbers changed. I think the numbers went too high finally. James Kiraly and my brothers and some of my peers all at once. It was too much. This is the period that I want to talk to Kevin King and his group about. It is also a period that others should know about. This sort of thing should not be allowed. It is not something that everybody lives through.

I treasured small rewards. In high school I earned the right to attend a cast party. Thomas arranged to have me locked out. This was a little joke of his. I stood outside the door and couldn't go in. Thomas laughed and was very pleased that I was not allowed to have my reward. To exist as a member of the group.




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Thomas Kiraly turned somewhat less pleasant as a young adult. His mother Grace said later that a dark mask came down. Thomas told me that he would get a gun and shoot me in the head until my brains ran out. He talked often about the nature of the gun and what the bullets would do to me. Not once or twice. He seemed to be able to picture the gun in every detail.

When Thomas was married to Karen there was a problem with the wedding photography. Grace told me that the only photos they have of the wedding are by me. The autistic brother that Thomas is ashamed of.

I remember a small but interesting incident that says more than is immediately apparent. I started family histories many years ago. By the time that Thomas's son Michael was born, I'd learned enough about the Kiraly side that I was able to produce a small chart which showed the importance of the name Michael in the family. Thomas wanted the chart. But he didn't want to ask me for it. He simply took it out of my hands and made a photocopy. He didn't look at me or acknowledge that I had created the chart. I was simply a thing to him; a thing to be used.

I think this is the way it was with all of these people. I never existed as far as they were concerned. I was an object that sometimes had the audacity to talk. Not a person to be thanked, respected, or even loved.

Grace didn't really like Karen but she tried hard to make things work. Thomas didn't help.

Grace gave things to Karen that belonged to me and refused to ask for them back. She said, "I can't look incompetent to my daughter in law!"

After Thomas's children Riane Kiraly and James Kiraly (grandson of the original James) injured Grace, Grace's arm made little crunching sounds. Thomas joked about the crunching sounds. Grace pretended the jokes didn't bother her. But they did.

6. Good and Evil

When Thomas Evan Kiraly lied under oath, he included the following statement:

Thomas: He asked (or demanded) that the relative to find out if my father would pay for his medical bills

As mentioned elsewhere, this never happened. Not the part he attributes to me. Putting aside the fact that Thomas has lied under oath, though, his perjury raises some important questions.

It is not a great surprise to learn that James Kiraly would not "pay for medical bills". But if Thomas or Kenneth needed James' assistance, would he have "paid for medical bills" in their case? The answer is, almost certainly.

If this is true, why would he "pay for" their bills and not mine? After talking to the mindless fluff that is Grace Kiraly in an attempt to understand what people like this use instead of reason, the answer is clear. James Kiraly would say that I did not "deserve" to be helped because I had made "decisions" of some vague and unspecified type and had not taken "responsibility" for those "decisions".

So far, so good. But what would happen if somebody asked James to specifically enumerate the "decisions" or to state exactly how the "responsibility" had not been met? It is simple. James would become angry at the question. "Just because! Don't dictate to me! There *must* have been decisions!"

In short, he would have worked backwards from conclusions that he desired. Conclusions that were important to him because of the way that somebody like me, an autistic person, looked or talked. Or perhaps the color of somebody else's skin. Or the religion that another person had. It is the logic that was behind the Nazis and the Ku Klux Klan.

Working backwards based on prejudice. It is the nature, the very essence, of human evil.

If this quality, the essence of evil, is part of somebody's makeup, are they responsible for it? I'm not sure. I'd like to talk to people about the matter. I know what the facts are here. But what is the truth?

Who is the arbiter of good and evil? Is it Jesus Christ? What does Christ, who James and Grace hope to meet someday, think of all this? When the time comes and He sees these two walking toward Him in some sort of nebulous cloudy region, will He smile? Will He frown? Or will He be a bit unwell?

The following pictures and others will be worked into the story as it is completed.


To return to the main page click here.




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As an interesting note, the boy on the right here is presently hosting one of the email addresses for this project. He has offered to host a mirror of the site itself as well.

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