{"id":10563,"date":"2026-04-22T00:44:07","date_gmt":"2026-04-22T07:44:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.newsmolo.com\/EDC\/2019\/?p=10563"},"modified":"2026-04-22T00:44:07","modified_gmt":"2026-04-22T07:44:07","slug":"did-i-work-for-jeffrey-epstein-a-true-story","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.newsmolo.com\/EDC\/2019\/2026\/04\/22\/did-i-work-for-jeffrey-epstein-a-true-story\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cDid I Work for Jeffrey Epstein?\u201d \u2014 A True Story"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cDid I Work for Jeffrey Epstein<\/span><\/span>?\u201d \u2014 A True Story<\/strong>
As told in the first person by Robin P.<\/em><\/p>\n

Published by Cris Alarcon<\/p>\n

\n

I have asked myself that question more times than I care to admit. Not out loud\u2014not at first\u2014but in the quiet places where memory lingers like a stain that refuses to wash clean.<\/p>\n

It is a dangerous thing, memory. It does not arrive in order. It does not knock.<\/p>\n

It begins, for me, with a joke.<\/p>\n

Christmas, 1978. Placerville. I was thirteen and still believed humiliation came in loud bursts of laughter and ended when the room quieted down. I was wrong. Some things echo.<\/p>\n

The package sat beneath the tree, innocent as any other. My name on it. From the maid.<\/p>\n

My mother told me to wait.<\/p>\n

When I opened it, the room erupted. Laughter\u2014sharp, cutting, relentless. Inside was a magazine I had hidden under my mattress. \u201cSex to Sexty!\u201d<\/em> Cheap. Cartoonish. Forbidden. Mine.<\/p>\n

Or so they thought.<\/p>\n

I remember freezing\u2014not because of the content, but because I understood something in that moment: what is hidden does not stay hidden. Someone always finds it. And when they do, they decide what it means.<\/p>\n

That lesson would follow me.<\/p>\n

\n

Years passed. Eighteen came fast. Too fast.<\/p>\n

My mother did not celebrate my adulthood\u2014she enforced it.
\u201cYou\u2019re a man now,\u201d she said. \u201cWhere are you moving?\u201d<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t a question.<\/p>\n

By the end of that week, I was in San Jose, working beside my older brother Scott. Construction. Hard work. Good money. Dirty edges.<\/p>\n

We built things\u2014houses wired like nervous systems, walls threaded with cables for a future most people didn\u2019t yet understand. Engineers wanted connection. We gave it to them.<\/p>\n

But the real wiring wasn\u2019t in the walls.<\/p>\n

It was in the system.<\/p>\n

Inspectors didn\u2019t inspect\u2014they negotiated. Envelopes slid across bar tables. Signatures came easy when lubricated by cash and whiskey. We told ourselves it was efficiency. Everyone did it. That\u2019s what made it normal.<\/p>\n

Until it wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

A roof collapsed. Not ours\u2014but close enough. Approved work. Signed off. Paid for.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s when I started to see it clearly: the machine didn\u2019t care about truth. It cared about momentum. Keep building. Keep moving. Don\u2019t ask questions.<\/p>\n

I left.<\/p>\n

Or at least, I thought I did.<\/p>\n

\n

The next phase didn\u2019t look like corruption. It looked like opportunity.<\/p>\n

The internet was new then\u2014wild, unregulated, full of promise. My brother had connections. Programmers. Hackers, though we didn\u2019t call them that yet. Just \u201ctalent.\u201d<\/p>\n

I needed servers. They provided them. Cheap\u2014sometimes free. Too cheap.<\/p>\n

I noticed things. Traffic that didn\u2019t make sense. Usage patterns that didn\u2019t match my business. Ghosts in the machine.<\/p>\n

I asked questions.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t like the answers.<\/p>\n

So I shut one server down.<\/p>\n

That should have been the end of it.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t.<\/p>\n

\n

The memory that haunts me most is not digital. It\u2019s physical.<\/p>\n

A warehouse in Livermore.<\/p>\n

Concrete floor. Cold air. My brother standing there, energized\u2014almost electric.<\/p>\n

He pointed down.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight here,\u201d he said. \u201cThe backbone.\u201d<\/p>\n

He told me he was going to tap into it. The internet itself. Access systems he had no business accessing. Government systems. Research labs.<\/p>\n

Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory<\/span><\/span>.
Sandia National Laboratories<\/span><\/span>.<\/p>\n

He said it like a man describing a plumbing job.<\/p>\n

I dismissed it. Not because I believed him\u2014but because I didn\u2019t want to.<\/p>\n

That was my second mistake.<\/p>\n

\n

Years blurred. Business deals came and went. One in particular stands out\u2014not for what it was, but for what it might have been.<\/p>\n

A database venture. Construction industry. Clean on the surface.<\/p>\n

The money came from somewhere offshore. Caribbean. Hard to reach. Always there\u2014but never directly visible.<\/p>\n

The accountant told me, casually, that he contested payments as a strategy. Ten percent went unclaimed. Free money.<\/p>\n

I should have walked then.<\/p>\n

Instead, I rationalized.<\/p>\n

Because the checks cleared\u2014eventually.<\/p>\n

Because the work was easy.<\/p>\n

Because I didn\u2019t look too closely at where the money came from.<\/p>\n

That was my third mistake.<\/p>\n

\n

Then came the fractures.<\/p>\n

My brother moved constantly\u2014California to Georgia, Georgia to Colorado. Each move came with new stories. New ventures. New people.<\/p>\n

Always new people.<\/p>\n

And always, somewhere in the background, the same shadows: pornography, networks, access, scale.<\/p>\n

Things grew darker.<\/p>\n

I won\u2019t recount every detail. Some things don\u2019t need repeating to be understood.<\/p>\n

But I will say this: lines blurred. Legal, moral, human.<\/p>\n

And then they disappeared altogether.<\/p>\n

\n

The world changed on September 11 attacks<\/span><\/span>.<\/p>\n

Everything slowed. Or maybe it just felt that way.<\/p>\n

In that silence, pieces started to fall into place.<\/p>\n

Names surfaced. Connections aligned. Stories I had dismissed came back\u2014louder this time.<\/p>\n

The offshore money.<\/p>\n

The servers.<\/p>\n

The programmers.<\/p>\n

The networks.<\/p>\n

The island.<\/p>\n

And then, years later, the name the world would come to know:<\/p>\n

Jeffrey Epstein<\/span><\/span>.<\/p>\n

\n

I cannot prove it.<\/p>\n

That is the truth.<\/p>\n

But I can trace the outlines.<\/p>\n

A financier with an island in the Caribbean.
Money moving through opaque channels.
Networks built on access, secrecy, and scale.
People who operated just outside the boundaries of legitimacy.<\/p>\n

And me\u2014standing somewhere in the periphery, doing business, asking too few questions, accepting too many convenient answers.<\/p>\n

Did I work for him?<\/p>\n

Not knowingly.<\/p>\n

But ignorance is not the same as innocence.<\/p>\n

\n

I have spent years turning this over in my mind.<\/p>\n

Not to absolve myself\u2014but to understand the cost of not looking closely when something feels wrong.<\/p>\n

Because the truth is rarely hidden.<\/p>\n

It is usually just\u2026 inconvenient.<\/p>\n

And if there is a moral to any of this, it is not about guilt by association.<\/p>\n

It is about willful blindness.<\/p>\n

The moment you choose not to see\u2014that\u2019s the moment you\u2019ve already stepped in deeper than you think.<\/p>\n

\n

I still remember that Christmas morning.<\/p>\n

The laughter.<\/p>\n

The exposure.<\/p>\n

The lesson.<\/p>\n

What is hidden does not stay hidden.<\/p>\n

Not forever.<\/p>\n

=======================<\/p>\n

\n

ROUGH DRAFT<\/p>\n

\u201cDid I work for Jeffrey Epstein?\u201d \u2013 A True Story in Narrative form, by Robin P. Warning: Adult Content. I have received this Draft copy of an Exclusive story related to Jefferey Epstein. If you have any questions you want me to ask Robin about this story put it in the comments and I will ask him to address them. \u2014 Work in Progress. Draft \u2014 \u2013 \u201cDid I work for Jeffrey Epstein?\u201d \u2013 A True Story in Narrative form by Robin P. (little brother of Scott O.) \u201cWith Jeffrey Epstein convicted and dead from \u2018suicide\u2019 while in Federal Custody\u2026 \u201cWith Ghislaine Maxwell put on \u2018Suicide Watch\u2019 as she awaits her sentencing for her role in the elaborate child sexual abuse case\u2026 \u201cThe time is right to ask myself the question, \u201cDid I work for Jeffrey Epstein unknowingly in the late 1990\u2019s? \u201cThis story begins in the early 1980\u2019s in Placerville California. \u2014 Christmas 1978 I found a present from the Maid under the Christmas Tree! I said something to my mother and she smiled and said put it down. Christmas came and present openings commenced. I only remember the present from our maid. Sometime through the present openings my mother pointed to the present to me from the maid and told me to open that one. Unknown to me, everyone else knew what it was \u2013 except me. When I started to open it I could tell it was a magazine. Then the horror descended on me as I recognized it as a tawdry cartoony magazine I owned called \u201cSex to Sexty!\u201d The title is self explanatory! I froze not wanting to open it any more but then I heard laughter erupt. My mother then explained to me that the maid had found it under my mattress and asked her what to do with it. Since it was close to Christmas my mother told her to wrap it up and give it to me as a present. It was an uproarious joke and it was on me! I was 13-years-old and was too young to buy such things. I had found it in the house and hid it under my mattress where the maid had found it while changing the sheets on my bed. I don\u2019t know where it came from, and no one claimed ownership. I was the youngest in the family and I had been pranked. When I had my 18th birthday my mother asked me where I was moving? I was failing to understand her question since I was not planning any move. She then explained that I was now a Man and it was time to move out. Aster 28 years of children in the house she was ready for a child-free home and had already made arrangements for me to move in with my oldest brother Scott O. in San Jose. It was a nice area called Willow Glen and he was a Journeyman Union contractor. I had extensive experience in retail marketing and wholesale manufacturing from being by my mother\u2019s side as she was a Retailer and a Manufacturer of \u201chigh-end ready-to-wear\u201d dog clothes. I had also learned to program computers when I was 17 from the manual of an \u2018state-of-the-art\u201d [back then] TRS-80. Since I had time on my hands as I was doing time in the Placerville Juvenile Hall for stealing an IBM Selectric typewriter from high-school. Not only did I get 2 months in Juvi, I was permanently expelled from the school district. I never graduated High School. I landed at my brother\u2019s and we started a new construction company. We were \u201csubcontractors\u201d including an IBM Assembly Building in Morgan Hill and many custom homes in a development called Blackhawk Estates\u201d in Livermore. Some of the custom homes in the Blackhawk Estates were truly a Pain as they had many \u201cwall jacks\u201d on every wall including bathrooms! They were custom builds for early computer tech people with phone and computer \u201cCat 5\u201d wiring throughout. At the same time my brother was running an Electronic Bulletin Board Service known as a BBS. On it he had Adult pornographic pictures of all adults in undress and various sex acts. It was not much of an interest of mine as I was the Business Partner of our construction company and had my hands full with that and little interest in pornagraphy. We were successful in business and instituted a \u201cDual-Gate\u201d system as Union Busters whereby we could run Union Crews and Non-Union crews. Unions can ONLY picket Union employee entrances. So when any of our Union employees were on strike the non-union employees could use the Second entrance that was for non-union employees. That allowed us to continue work in the face of union strikes even on large jobs in the Bay Area. This was a competitive advantage that few contractors offered in the early eighties. As is often the case Success is not as glorious as it might seem. In the Bay Area of that time period the entire construction industry was rife with corruption. As we were successful enough to be doing large jobs we had to play by the unsaid rules\u2026 I had learned to bring the jobsite inspector sign-off card to the bar in an envelope of cash to met the building inspector of that job for lunch and drinks \u2013 on my tab. It was a well practiced maneuver of handing the Inspector the envelope for him to pull out the sign-off card, sign and date it, hand it to me, and pocket the envelope it came in with the cash still in it. We always did good work but due to the high cost of delays waiting for an inspector to sign-off on work done it was part of construction! As we were part of a stack of union trades that were ordered in a tightly scheduled work process there was a time delay causing other unions to be delayed in starting scheduled work. On the largest jobs that penalty was as high as $10,000 a day! Inspectors have no obligation to arrive on time or to not be excessively nit-picky over minute details, thereby causing delays in approving work already completed. The \u201cpay-off\u201d was cheap and expected guarantees of timeliness. Since I learned that this was how it was done, it did not bother me so much as we were successful. Then the roof of a large sports area collapsed due to faulty workmanship. Workmanship that had been approved by inspectors. By then I had had enough of the dirty construction business and especially of my aggressive bully of a big-brother. With much animosity I loaded my truck, drove from San Jose to a college parking lot in Pomona where I enrolled in school. Scott\u2019s business moved toward the Computer sector of construction and away from the labor part. He called on me to help him launch a website on the new \u201cInternet.\u201d A great evolution in communication from the peer-to-peer network done over telephone lines. It was at the early stage of any new service\/product and the first adopters were those that used computers in their construction work. In the construction trades it was Engineers and Architects that were already computer literate and we offered deep penetration into the burgeoning online trades. We sold them into the network on our platform and then sold advertising to suppliers of those trades including a nice contract with GMC and Craftsman for their industry-grade products. We developed the AEC network [Architect, Engineers, and Contractor] First to market. I did the business management division and Scott did the backend computer communications division. Concurrently I had become a National Sales Manager for a manufacturing concern. As the Internet developed I moved into the Online retail business. Although I was well versed in sales and manufacturing I had very limited knowledge in computer technology. I need help developing and managing \u201cServer\u201d computers. Over the years of running a BBS Scott had developed connections from \u201cclients\u201d of his dirty-picture business. Some very talented programs in the emerging Internet, an offshoot of the Military ARPANET. Talent that liked dirty pictures. Some became foundation programers for a new enterprise of a college \u201chook-up\u201d website commonly known these days as Facebook! But for me they installed and maintained my servers that I used for e-commerce as a first-to-market entrepreneur. Even written up in Computerworld for one exploit. One of the key programmers had asked me to keep one Server operational even after the Server farm [Mindspring\/Earthlink] had asked me to upgrade. They used \u201cTelenet\u201d to maintain that server. I was unable to maintain that level of computer programming so I gladly accepted the request as they charged me nothing to maintain my Servers\u2026 Yes, a \u201cRed Fag\u201d that I missed! I did have enough programming knowledge to read my traffic logs. I noticed that I had MUCH more traffic then could be explained for the usage I was ecommerce I was using on some Dedicated Servers. After an exploit that exposed Earthlink Shared Server passwords due to a bad setup configuration on their part and an exploited program installed for my ecommerce uses, I shut down that server. The programmers gave me the creeps and I just did not trust them. Their programming skills were so far beyond mine I could not police the use of my own resources. What was causing the high traffic load on that server I didn\u2019t know but I do know my brother\u2019s dirty-picture business was thriving as transferring things like pictures over the Internet was far more efficacious than over slow Modem-based communications. As the years passed he went into the Computer Consulting and development business with construction as a side-line. He had no formal education in programming nor any college level education. But he did have \u201cfriends\u201d in the industry at higher levels. Another strange Christmas rolled around that year. My mother was going to see Scott and trade gifts. Scott was now living in Livermore. She invited my wife and I to come and make it a family visit. A gift-exchange. I did not know he had moved away from San Jose but I did know Livermore. I was not into porn but I am into high energy physics. A gift of understanding and interest. Livermore hosts a government research facility with a linear accelerator that crashes particles together at very high speeds to see the results and develop our understanding of high energy physics. Scott has his strengths and I have an innate ability to understand high-energy and theoretical astrophysics. I know what they were doing at that SANDIA Laboratory long before I knew my brother had moved into the area. Scott was excited when I arrived and wanted to show me his new warehouse as soon as I arrived. It was not far from his new house. On the way he explained to me it was over the \u201cbackbone\u201d of the internet and just outside of Sandia Labs [Lawrence Livermore Laboratory] (LLL). When we arrived at his space in a few rows of tin warehouse buildings he jumped out excitedly and walked in and to a spot on the concrete inside his rented space for the remnants of his construction business. For all intents and purposes it was not a functional business. He pointed down and said \u201cright here is the \u2018trunk line!\u2019\u201d In a rush of excitement he told me he was going to drill down to the \u201cInternet\u201d there to access the computers at the lab. He went on to tell me that they had nearly unlimited storage space and very fast transfer speeds allowing videos to be stored and transferred. I immediately disregarded his claims. I tried not to be rude as it was a Christmas visit. The entire claim was prosperous! He was talking about a secure government research facility. He was uneducated in most kinds of computer technology. He said he had \u201cinsiders\u201d that he was working with to do this ridiculous break-in and take-over of these government computers. Scott was talking outlandishness and at best I only ever had a cordial relationship with Scott. So I pressed to return to the family and after a few hours my wife and I made a quick exit and returned home. I told my wife about his claims to renting that particular warehouse specifically to break into Sandia Labs computers by tapping the \u201cInternet Backbone.\u201d After we got back he asked me if I would help his son give descriptive names to a new batch of exposed breast pictures using words like \u201cpuffy.\u201d I made a reason that I had to leave. His break into the lab\u2019s computer story was so ridiculous I quickly put the ludacris story out of my mind. A few years later my mother called and asked if I would help him as a Marketing Director for a new Enterprise. A Database driven web network of high-level constructions trades. Things like large Aggregate companies and Large Industry Tractors operated by GPS positioning. It was easy money and took me to \u201cCONEXPO-CON\/AGG\u201d in Vegas as Sales Director. This is primarily large companies that supply and transport aggregates used for roads and large commercial foundations across the U.S. It was easy money and allowed me to stay home and work remotely from home in Lake Arrowhead. He noted that Adult-Dex and Comdex are in series in Vegas. It is known that there is a strong overlap of those two industries! [Adult Entertainment trade show and Computer Industry trade show.] Kind of like bar talk so I just let it pass. In the introduction to this new business I learned Scott had moved to Bone, Georgia. I was surprised to find this out as it was far off and a pretty hot climate for an overweight California guy. He went on to explain that he had a new business partner that owned several Adult Entertainment Bars with strippers and such. I agreed to sign on to this new Construction Database driven network website business. It had nothing to do with any Adult entertainment\u2026 It was a bit odd but the money was good. Scott was the Internet guy and the accountant gut was F. Hornblower. He was in Miami. An unusual name but the world is full of names that are strange, to me. A few times the paycheck was late or Bounced! I called about a returned deposit and he apologized. He explained that he contested EVERY payment as 10% of the people never noticed and he made the unclaimed money. He accidently contested mine because I was new and he forgot to exclude my name. He assured my that the money was always there but sometimes took a while to get. The Financier lived on his own island not too far from Florida in the Caribbean. The delay was because it was sometimes hard to get ahold of him for the money transfer but he was VERY wealthy and the money was always good and I would always get my pay. It got more strang. I did get paid but not much work to do. I asked why and Scott told me that the \u201clawyers\u201d had taken the business from him and moved it to Canada. Soon I learned Scott had moved to Littleton Colorado. Another unexpected and fast move. I did not talk to Scott for much other than business. We just had few common interests and I did not like his personality. The September 11 attacks took the oxygen out of the air and I became pretty insular for a year or so. I knew there was an awful school shooting in Columbine Colorado but I did not know where that was in relation to where Scott and his family lived in a place called Littleton. A couple of years later my Sister Ann Z. told me I should call Scott. Things were bad for him. I do not like my brother but I do like my nephews and nieces. I gave him a call at the phone number that Ann Z. gave me and got ahold of my nephew, his second oldest son. He was not available so I talked with my nephew for a while. The same one that was giving descriptive names to hndereds of pornagraphic images back in Livermore years earlier. Although I was used to being shocked by Scott, I was more shocked by my nephew than I had ever been\u2026 In some small talk I asked him about the Columbine shooting and where it was related to him. He told me it was the next school system from Littleton! Then he told me, \u201cthose Black Trench Coats were kind of cool.\u201d I was not able to reach Scott so after talking to that nephew I called my sister Ann Z. We agreed that they had to move out of that toxic environment. She said she had a place for him to live if I could get him to Placerville. She contacted him and made the arrangements as I rented a large U-Haul and drove to Littlton. When I arrived he had not even started to pack! After dislodging him from that Rental we all drove back to Placerville. When we got here I called Ann Z. but I could not reach her. Since there was a pack of kids with Scott and I had a rental home that was between renters I had them stay there temporarily as we unloaded the U-Haul for a truck return. I soon found out my sister had gone to Scotland and was not answering my calls That temporary lodging turned into years. Years without any rent paid. He had no job but he had a business plan. He had a product to sell and an online channel to sell it. I told him I could help him with product packaging and marketing. I asked what the product was. A female aphrodisiac he replied. I was surprised and asked how it worked. He said it did not matter if it worked as he could sell it! My immediate inclination was to boot him down the road. But three nephews and two nieces from the ages of 17 to 7 kept me from such a reactive response. The Chinese made female aphrodisiac was not importable and that venture fell through. Soon Scott was making money selling pronography again, but this time from my rental income property in Placerville. I learned that the story Scott told me about breaking into Sandia Labs was true! It did happen as I was told in advance and that Scott was one of the co-conspirators! I learned that one of my first programmers on my server had the same name as one of the other co-conspirators. One that was also inducted for child porography! Presumably the same person! I learned that the \u201chome run\u201d business that the \u201clawyers\u201d had maneuvered my brother out of was relocated to Canada and is now known as \u201cPorn Hub!\u201d This was all too much for me to handle. I instigated a rather violent kick-out with my brother Scott O. and all his children, albeit older and more independent then when I picked them up in Colorado years earlier. One of them being old enough to leave me with a concussion. I have not communicated with any of my family for a decade now. Since that time the world has learned of a serial child abuser on his own island off the coast off Miami. The now infamous name of Jeffrey Epstein. I fear I worked for a shill business that was financed by this same man on his private island in the Caribbean without even knowing it. Robin P. \u2014 Work in Progress. Draft \u2014<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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