Felt all that William Wallace experienced and more without the bloodshed and war. He was motivated by a desire for freedom as well as the patriotism of his country free from English despotism. Having lost his beloved in death to the nobles occupying his country he was vengeful and angry at the injustice.

Then as now the hope of the masses was to experience true freedom, but such hope was lost when they were not willing to unite, stand together and pay the price. Like Wallace I experienced the loneliness and betrayal of my brethren who were unwilling to take a stand even for their own sovereignty.

When push came to shove as the IRS came knocking down my door, they ran for the hills. When I was arrested and sent to prison all but a few walked away and left me alone without support or even the comfort of solidarity. Such cowardice is met with the loss of something so dear it’s unspeakable.

Yet there were those who stood by, weathered the storm, comforted and loved me while I was in prison. Those dear souls were enriched and forever blessed.

Different than Wallace I falsely admitted guilt for crimes I didn’t commit. This was not though an act of cowardice, but an act of self-love. Such an admission was necessary to minimize the prison sentence and return home to my loved ones as soon as possible.

I was not willing to be martyred or sacrificed at the hands of an unjust court for a cause too few believed in. Still I believe in the sovereignty of the people, to one day awaken to that fact and act accordingly. But this was not the time for the people to rise up and challenge their government as I’d expected, hoped and done myself for over a decade.

Admittedly, I was weakened by the fight, alone to the core, but refused to fight anymore. My spiritual path was to surrender and allow the greater power to enter my heart from within, not challenge the hardened walls of external authority.

Reclaiming internal authority over our lives, over my life was the essence of the teachings all those years (not to topple the government). In my utter defeat I lost one kind of power and gained yet another without the horrible death and torture Wallace suffered while screaming out “Freedom!”

His cry, as was mine, was for liberty and justice to prevail once more in the “land of the (allegedly) free.” Distinctly from Wallace my battle cry was to “wake up America (and the world).” Like Wallace I’ll cry “Freedom” until the end of my days.

So in prison I waited and bided my time well. I did my time as punishment for the crimes of standing courageously tall against an impossible force, telling the truth amidst very dangerous situations and being a responsible leader. I went boldly where very few men have had the courage to go. I may have been the last free American, a man who hadn’t already embraced the slave state-of-mind.

My friends, there’s a greater story yet to be told. But for now I am a silent, forgotten legend of a man who once lived tall and raised his banner of “liberty” for all to see. This “Johnny Liberty” rides no more in America.

This “John David Van Hove” is a free-spirit still (as the judge observed), a free man in the spiritual realms, the incarnation of Hyoka and Crazy Horse, a “braveheart” indeed who took “liberty” as far as he could and challenged external authority and the law that plundered his people.

Now, he’s refocused on being a true human being, recognizing and remembering always the bell that tolls within, a “liberty” that still rings true to his soul.