Do you know why everyone wants – no demands – that I talk about being stalked.

I know you think it’s because talking being stalked will help me get rid of all the anger and I’ll be a nicer person, i.e. a lackey.  A puppet on a string. 

NO!  Because the authorities know talking about being stalked doesn’t work. For years I talked about being stalked.   I went up to the Maywood Police Station and talked with Police officers and Detectives.  When that didn’t work, I went to City Hall Meetings and talked about being stalked to the Board of Trustees and two different Mayors.  I’m currently on the third.  And nothing.  They looked at me like I was a blithering idiot.

But, along came the internet and I began writing (documenting) about being stalked.  And writing about being stalked got me far more attention than talking about being stalked ever did. 

                              #Black LivesMatter,  #MeToo, #TIMESUP

So, I’d advise you to beware of the motive behind the advice, and document, document, document!

PS.  To Tony Robbins.  I know exactly what you mean when you say there will be pushback.  Every time, I tried making a complaint about the stalkers, I got major pushback (damage to my car, or my clothes, or a job loss).  But I can tell you from experience that sitting there and taking it, thinking that they’ll get tired and stop, DOES NOT WORK.  It only emboldens the harasser.


Eliza D. Ankum
Author of
Flight 404 – A Novel of Aviation Disaster
Ruby Sanders (The Ruby and Jared Saga Book 1)
Jared Anderson (The Ruby and Jared Saga Book 2)
OneThreeThirteen – A Presidential Agent Novel Series Book 1
The Hunt For Red November – A Presidential Agent Novel Series Book 2
Dancing With The Fat Woman
Thou Shalt Eat Dust – A Second Chance Love Story
A Woman’s Voice: A Little Book of Poems
STALKED! By Voices
A Tiny Kitten With A Big Mouth

Contact emails below:

Kim Foxx Illinois Attorney General

Senator Dick Durbin

Congressman Danny K. Davis

Illinois State Representative Emanuel ‘Chris’ Welch

Illinois State Senator Kimberly Lightford

Maywood Mayor Edwenna Perkins

Maywood Police Chief Vladmir Talley



My Fellow Alabamians


I and the people stalking me are from Alabama.  I was born in Bay Minette, Alabama.  And I grew up in Latham, Alabama which is not far from Tensaw, Alabama.  My grandparents, on my father’s side, lived in Prichard, Alabama, a suburb of Mobile, Alabama which is close to Pensacola, Florida.  Continue reading

Denial Letter #MeToo


Before I write anything else, let me say that I am NOT in Church this Sunday morning because of The Stalkers, who may be slightly quieter than they usually are, but are still very much free and out and about on the streets of Maywood, Illinois. Continue reading



Excerpt from STALKED! By Voices
The years from 1992 – 1999

Chapter 35

THE SCREAMING started in the parking lot. Every morning as I arrived at Apex, for work, while I was parking the car, before I opened the car door, before I’d set foot inside the building, I could hear The Voices/Stalkers screaming insults from inside the building, at me. There were days when I arrived at work and it took every ounce of courage and strength I possessed to walk into that building.

Before I list for you some of the harangue I endured, let me tell you a little bit about Apex. Apex was an automotive parts warehouse that did business twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

Apex employed lots of men. Most of whom I had to work with on a daily basis. Men who stocked shelves, picked parts, packed orders, worked as warehouse managers, and supervisors.

Everything The Voices/Stalkers screamed at me was heard by everyone, both men and women. I was spared nothing! I was not given the respect that one human should give another. And when I tried fighting for it, I was declared unstable.

Here’s a partial list of what was screamed at me on a daily basis for no other reason than they could get away with it.

  1. The Stalkers screamed that they were mind readers.
  2. That they were reading every thought that went through my head and had control over all my actions, emotions, and health.
  3. That they’d read in my mind that I wanted the men in the warehouse to ‘run a chain’ on me.
  4. They screamed out that I had Aids. Not true. But remember this was back in the early nineties when Aids was still the ‘terror’ disease of the decade.
  5. They would scream out to the entire warehouse when I had my period.
  6. They screamed out every time I went to the ladies room and gave explicit details of what I was doing in there. Even to the point of screaming that I should make sure to ‘wipe the crack of my ass.’
  7. They’d scream out about my underwear. Things like if it were new, what color underwear I was wearing that day, if they damaged in any way, and how much I’d paid for it.
  8. They’d scream that I fantasized about my supervisor while masturbating.
  9. They’d scream that I had false teeth.
  10. They’d scream out descriptions of how I looked naked.
  11. They scream descriptions of how I went about taking a bath, showering, or shaving my legs.

Let me repeat, my coworkers, both male and female heard it all. So, now other people were listening, publicly, to what I’d had to listen to, privately, for years.

And believe me, they were not at all pleased with the things they were forced to listen to on my account.

As my coworkers dislike for The Voices/Stalkers grew, they began taking their frustrations out on me. I became their punching bag. People didn’t talk to me, they screamed at me. I guess, they assumed that I must have been hard of hearing or something, because I didn’t react to The Voices/Stalkers the way they thought I should have.

“Why doesn’t she just go crazy so those damn screaming bitches will go away and we can have some peace around here!”

I heard that whispered behind my back more times than I’d care to remember.

Chapter 36

How It Was Before Sensitivity Training

“Now Miss Ankum. It is Miss? Is that Right?” The Maywood Policeman asks me.


“It’s your complaint that, ahh,.. someone is following you?


“Miss Ankum have you recently broken up with a boyfriend?”


“Are you dating someone’s husband?”


“Uhmm. Miss Ankum are you engaged in an illegal activity that would cause someone to be upset with you? And by that I mean drugs or prostitution!”


“Ok. Well, then Miss Ankum, are you a singer?”


“Are you an actress?”


“Are you a dancer, particularly, of the exotic kind?”


“Miss Ankum, he says a bit frustrated, you admit that you are not conducting an illegal business.  You are not an actress, singer, or exotic dancer.  Well, then Miss Ankum, help me understand why anyone would want to follow you around.”

What I hear, is that you’re a nobody and no one would follow you around with a cause.  I crawl out on my battered ego, walk slowly over to the park behind the Police Station and sit defeated on a bench beneath a tree. I’m wearing a green plaid madras skirt that’s new because I’ve regained the weight that I’d lost. I look down at my hands which are folded in my lap and I start to cry.

U. S. Senator Dick Durbin, U. S. Congressmann Danny K Davis, Illinois State Senator Kimberly Lightford, Mayor Edwenna Perkins, Police Chief Vladmir Talley how would you like it if this happened to your mother, sister, or wife?

At every job.  In my Church, on vacation and at both my brother’s funerals.  And all this over something they made up to have a reason to scream and holler obscenities.  Their anger is a fake.

Eliza D. Ankum
Author of
STALKED! By Voices


Continue reading

Maywood Mayor’s Race


Two weeks ago, while I was out basking in the sixty degree February weather, someone left a campaign flyer on my door.  I took one look at it, snatched it off the door, and tried my best to stomp it to pieces.

It was a campaign flyer for The Maywood United Party (Henderson Yarbrough, Audrey Jaycox, and Readith Ester).   These three people – trustees – have NOT done a damn thing to help Maywood.  And believe me, I spent the morning researching them.  But, much much more, back in 2007 when I was out of work and attending the Tuesday night meetings at 125 S. Fifth Avenue, these three were in power then and the only thing they’ve accomplished is padding their pocketbooks.

Under these three, I suffered unimaginable verbal abuse from a family of stalkers and these three would not do a damn thing about it.

It is just now that the Maywood Police have been able to quiet some of the stalkers screaming and prowling of our streets.  It is just now that the Maywood Police have been able to get the money, equipment, and cooperation they need in order to Police our streets.

So if you want to go back to the dark ages of constant drive-bys, sexual perverts roaming unabated in your streets, disappearing tax revenues, and more store closing so Yarbrough can buy up land cheap and make a profit – selling to Melrose Park business people – when the Village goes under, then by all means cast your vote for the Maywood United Party.

But, myself, have enough bullet holes in my walls and I’m tired of listening to a well-connected perv, and I hate having to drive all the way to Broadview or Melrose Park to buy a loaf of bread.

The Maywood United Party a step BACKWARDS for Maywood!

A Tiny Kitten With A Big Mouth
Eliza D. Ankum
Author of
Flight 404
Ruby Sanders – A Novel
Jared Anderson (The Ruby and Jared Saga Book 2)
OneThreeThirteen – A Presidential Agent Novel Series
Dancing With The Fat Woman
Thou Shalt Eat Dust
STALKED! By Voices



Rhymefest On Windy City Live



Tonight, I was watching a rebroadcast of Friday’s Windy City Live which featured Rhymefest(Grammy, Golden Globe, and Oscar winner) who shared his story of being robbed at gunpoint, in Chicago, and trying to report it to the Police.

Up until hearing to his story, I had personalized my experience of trying to report my stalking to the Maywood Police.  I had assumed that I was being treated the way I was because I was a nobody, or so they assumed.

The first time I reported being stalked, I was told that I had suffered a breakdown and had imagined the whole thing.  And I was sent to out-patient therapy where I was drugged.

The second time I went to the Maywood Police, (after losing my secretarial job at Exxon Company U.S.A. in New Orleans, because of the stalking and returning to Illinois), I was told that nobody knew what I was talking about when I complained about being lied to, with regards to the stalking, and drugged and that nothing was going on.

The third time, I sort of lost my temper — after losing yet another job because of the stalking, I told the Police Chief, (not the current one) “that if you can’t find this woman as loud as she’s screaming, then you need a flashlight and a compass to find your ass.”  At that point, he jumped to his feet and put his hands on his gun and so did the other officers in the room.  I, feared for my life at that point, so I left.

But the stalking, and the insults, and the detriment to my family were so great, that I tried several more times (whenever I heard that there was a new Police Chief).  But after reading about theyoung man who was assaulted while in Police custody and listening to mothers of murdered sons testify about how they were treated, when they sought help, I NEVER WENT BACK.

But listening to Ryhmefest’s testimony, now I know that it wasn’t personal, but just how the Police operate  — Chicago and Maywood.

But I still won’t go back.  I have and I will learn to live with the stalking.  Much the same as Chicagoans are learning to live with the gun violence.  Where can we go?

P.S.  And NO, I won’t be in Church on Sunday, because of the stalking.  I’m taking heed of Hebrews 12:15 Amplified Bible Classic Edition

Exercise foresight and be on the watch to look [after one another], to see that no one falls back from and fails to secure God’s grace (His unmerited favor and spiritual blessing), in order that no root of resentment (rancor, bitterness, or hatred) shoots forth and causes trouble and bitter torment, and the many become contaminated and defiled by it—

Eliza D. Ankum
Author of
Flight 404
Ruby Sanders
Jared Anderson
Dancing With The Fat Woman
Thou Shalt Eat Dust
STALKED! By Voices