Features
Bygone Winnipeg: A fictitous story based on true events: University of Manitoba Faculty of Medicine 1932-1944
By DAVID TOPPER Call me a witness. I was there and heard almost everything that’s relevant to this story.
Yet, thinking deeper, I guess you could call me a spy – well, at least, some may say that, for there was an element of skulduggery in my employment situation. It was all because of my father, who changed my name when I was born. Of course, we’re all born with a surname, but―
Wait. Let’s first go back to my grandfather, Moshe Levinstein, who was born in Russia, and who as a young man experienced a small pogrom – small in terms of later ones – which was enough to convince him to emigrate as fast as he could. Several people were killed, a house was burned down, and there was a rape – that ‘small’ event drove him to leave Russia, forever. He never looked back, even when Winnipeg, Canada turned out not to be quite the paradise he expected. Because he quickly found that anti-Semitism was endemic.
My father, Solomon Levinstein, while growing up, saw the struggle his parents went through being Jews in a Christian country (with the English majority Protestant, and the minority French Catholic), and he wanted to protect me as best he could when I was born. He wanted me to fit into the social fabric more than he ever could. And since I turned out to be a girl, there were even more barriers on my horizon – ‘closed doors,’ he called it. He told us that he was thinking about all this when I was still in my mother’s womb. You see, he liked to ‘plan ahead,’ which was another of his favourite phrases.
Oh, speaking of being in the womb: my grandmother died when my mother was eight months pregnant with me, and so I was supposed to be named some variation of Minnie Levinstein, as is the Jewish tradition. But since my father was obsessed with my fitting in better than he did, and he also wanted me to get through some otherwise ‘closed doors’ – I was named Mildred Evans. He said Evans and ‘Levins’ rhyme, and so do Millie and Minnie. It was also a nice Aryan-sounding name, “as the Germans would say,” he said.
Mind you, while growing up as Mildred Evans, I nonetheless didn’t hide my Jewishness. Indeed, I often went to synagogue on Saturday/Sabbath. But then, I also often went to church on Sunday and―
Um, I guess I need to explain that. You see, my best friend was Mary O’Brian, which tells you that she was probably Irish Catholic, which she was. Now, here’s my perspective in all of this. I was very precocious and very smart and I read a lot. I liked languages. On weekends I enjoyed Hebrew in the Synagogue and Latin in the Church. Two ancient languages, one dead except for the Christian Mass, and the other kept alive in prayer and Torah study. Plus, you must remember that Latin was still taught in schools at this time; it was part of a Liberal Arts education in the first half of the 20th century. Many universities required High School Latin for entrance to their freshman classes. As well, to me, the Mass was like an opera, with singing and those glorious organ pipes vibrating and echoing throughout the church. Mary and I, by-the-by, went to the beautiful Cathedral in St. Boniface, with the astonishing and huge Rose window. You see, there were no organs in any synagogue. And so, it was not so strange for this Jew to enjoy the Catholic Mass as a musical event. Think of Bach, a devout Lutheran, who wrote his wonderful Mass in B-minor.
Anyway, to me the Mass was a show, and it was free – well not completely free, since the church always passed around a collection basket near the end of the service – a sort of pay-what-may type thing, you could say. I remember that Mary, when I took her to her first synagogue service, was surprised that there was no collection at the end, especially since after the service there was an oneg in the social hall, with food galore. But I digress.
The service of the Mass, to me, was not entirely unfamiliar, since there were many prayers and texts that borrowed passages from what they called The Old Testament: many of the sayings of the prophets, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others. “But what about the stuff on Jesus?” you may be asking, eh? Well, you see, I read a lot of history, as I told Mary – and I must say she was shocked when I first told her this; although eventually she (well, sort of) agreed with me – well, I told her that Jesus was not a Christian, but a Jew named Yeshua, and he always was; ‘Jesus’ was the later Latinized name. He had some differences with the Jewish hierarchy at the time, along with problems with the Romans who occupied the Holy Land, so much so that they (the Romans) crucified him. It was after his death that Christianity was born, due in large part to the preaching and writing of a Jew name Saul, whose name was later Latinized to ‘Paul’ after he had a vision of the resurrected Yeshua/Jesus. Saul/Paul made a strong case for rejecting many Jewish practices (such as circumcision), so much so that his sect broke free from its Jewish root. They became known as ‘Christians,’ since Paul preached that Yeshua was the real messiah (or ‘anointed one’), which in Greek is ‘Kristos,’ later Latinized to ‘Christus.’
Mary laughed when I said that therefore you might call the birth of Christianity a Jewish conspiracy. “Oh Millie,” she said. “You’re so smart it sometimes scares me. What is going to happen to you?”
Good question.
So, what did happen to me? Well it helped being smart, that’s for sure. Very smart, indeed. But not pushy. No, not pushy or impudent in any way. Not at all. You see, I was (and still am) happy with less – a lot less than I probably could have had. Yes, I lived (and still live) parsimoniously.
Well, I got a university education with excellent grades (as you might expect) but I didn’t go any further, although I could have, and was encouraged to do so. But I saw the university system as a barrier to women. And I was not inclined to fight the system. As I said, I was satisfied with less. While still a student at the University of Manitoba, I got part-time secretarial jobs, since I was a fabulous typist and proof reader. Even before I graduated, I was offered a full-time position as a secretary in the English Department, since their long-time-serving woman was thinking of retiring. And in the end, after graduation, I got the job.
It was the best decision of my life, looking back on it. You see, in this job I could go home at 5pm to my modest house not far from the university and forget about the job until the next morning. In the warmer weather I could walk to and fro; although in the dead of winter I took the short bus ride. After all, it was Winnipeg. And at home I could read whatever I wanted. Play the piano. Do my art work: drawing (pencil and/or pen & ink) and painting (only watercolour). Listen to the radio. And I read as much as I wanted: lots of books, magazines, and newspapers. I got the New York Times Sunday edition in the mail every week; it was a bit late, of course, but there were so many articles of interest that it was a source of almost endless reading throughout the week. For example, I recently came across this quote from the famous Albert Einstein in an article about him: “Perhaps it is due to anti-Semitism that we can preserve ourselves as a race; at least, this is what I believe.” I’ve been thinking a lot lately about this, especially in light of what I am going to tell you later. Incidentally, when I was a student, there were no Jewish professors on the faculty. Even as late as the mid-1940s, there were still only four Jewish professors.
In contrast to my life, my boss’s home life was filled with lectures to prepare, and even on weekends there were papers to mark, exams to compose and later to mark. And so it went. He often told me I was fortunate to be able to start a book and just read it at my leisure, right through if I wished. He confided in me that he seldom had time to read half of what he wanted to. I believe he liked talking to me, since I was smart. He often asked my advice regarding even the content of the texts that I was typing for him. We got along swimmingly, as you might surmise. We had a very good rela―
Okay, before you start fantasizing further, let me stop you. There was nothing beyond our professional relationship. Nothing at all. Throughout the university, in all my jobs – nothing. No flirting, never. I had no affairs in those years in various secretarial positions, if that’s what you’re thinking. And here’s why: I am not attractive. I knew this in High School, and was satisfied with it. Remember, I like a simple life, and I discovered that this unattractive state makes life uncomplicated – or, at least, less complicated than it otherwise might be. I could see among my classmates in school that the (let’s call them) ‘attractive’ girls had a life that was a roller-coaster ride. Up, happy, being gleeful; down, way down, when a guy dumped them. Yes, I saw some girls get really down; had to take pills; some even admitted to hospital. I thought: who needs this crap? I don’t want those ups and downs; I want a straight ride, flat. “Yes, just flat,” as I told Mary. She laughed, “Well that’s not the only thing that’s flat for you, huh”? We both had a good laugh at that. Remember we were best friends, and each could take a joke.
So, I tell you: my so-called ‘unattractiveness’ was a gift. Which I took and ran with, you might say. Today, you see: I wear no make-up, have a simple straight hair-do extending below my ears but not touching my shoulders, wear loose and non-flashy blouses, have only skirts far below my knees, and I wear sensible shoes – namely, flats (oh, that word again). All this ensured that my relationships with the men under whom I worked at the university would remain strictly professional. Let’s put it this way. I always had a good night’s solo sleep, if you know what I mean.
Of course, this is not to say that I never had an intimate relationship with anyone, but rather that it was not with any of my bosses – and I will leave it at that, for this has gone far beyond the original topic. But – and I emphasize this – all this is not a digression, for I very much want you to know about me and my life at the University of Manitoba, so as to put this story into context and to show how and why what I am going to tell you should not only be believed, but also taken seriously.
Further, to set the stage: I got along well with my fellow all-female secretaries and other staff at the university. My plainness was interpreted as a sort of prissiness, which is not true, but they didn’t know that. As Mildred Evans, I was asked what church I went to, and I told them St. Boniface Cathedral, since I did go to it when my friend Mary and I were kids, so strictly speaking my answer was no lie. Although I know their question had a different meaning. (Incidentally, Mary is now married and living in Toronto, raising her four kids.) They then asked why I go all the way to the other city to attend church and I told them it was about the music and the organ. They understood, and asked no more.
Also, due to my modest behaviour, they questioned why I was not a nun, and it led to them jokingly calling me Sister Millie. I said there was no such St. Mildred, although this may not be true, but then what do Protestants know about saints? – since Luther, Calvin, and the others eschewed them, along with the Virgin Mary, from their theology. And speaking of joking: being ‘Sister Millie’ among these Protestants, I was in an opportune position to reprimand them when they occasionally told anti-Semitic jokes or made similar remarks. And I did. As an art-lover, I also took the occasions to lecture them on the destruction of so much art by the Protestants during the Reformation: defacing and burning paintings, smashing statues, destroying stained-glass windows, and more. They knew none of this; it was a shock to them. They were not taught such things in Sunday-school, they said.
And that brings me to the reason for telling you all this in the first place. For, as I began, I said I was a witness, or even a spy. But for what? Well, for what may be called the backroom conversations. The secret disc―
Wait, I’m getting ahead. Uh, let’s start here: After many years with the English Department, I was promoted to being secretary for the new Dean of Medicine, Dr. Warren Matthews. It began for me at end of term in late May 1932. Although the Dean’s term began in September, he occasionally came around during the summer months to bring things (books, files, and such) so that his office was ready in the fall. He got to know me a bit and seemed very pleased and comfortable with me. His wife, Eleanor, even came with him one summer day – I believe, to check me out. She was nicely dressed, looking very Anglo-Saxonish prim and proper, if there is such a thing. When she saw me, she first looked me straight in my eyes and, while she was saying some pleasantries, she panned down my body to my feet and back up to my face, and ended with a self-assured smile on her face. I passed, since I was clearly no threat to her sexuality, whatever there was of it.
I spent the summer getting adjusted to the new office, going through the files and sometimes reorganizing them my way, and changing some things around in the physical space of the office. For one thing, I preferred keeping my office door to the university closed, but with a COME IN sign, when I was there. I didn’t like the constant background noise and chatter, as well as obtrusive eyes walking past an open door. That summer, I also had lots of typing to do both for the new Dean and for others in the Department of Medicine.
By the fall, when the Dean came in for the new term, we could get right to work. And we did. We quickly developed a good working relationship. He was obviously comfortable with me, for he shortly said that I should just call him ‘Warren.’ Interestingly, he liked me keeping my door closed, since he preferred keeping his door open. He said he was a bit claustrophobic, plus he liked to hear my typing – it had a musical rhythm that he found restful. Importantly, this meant that I was privy to confidential remarks by the Dean and those who ran the administration of the university when they were in his office. In short, I was able to eavesdrop. And eavesdrop I did! And that’s why I’m telling you this.
But this spying came later. The reason I am telling you this is because of an event that took place not long after he got settled into his new office. I can still remember the day. It was first thing in the morning, and after the “how are you” etc., he told me to look at the records of students admitted to the Medical School in terms of their ethnic origin, particularly noting how many of them were Jews. “We already have too many Jews, Millie,” he said. It was a jolt, and although I’m sure I showed no visible signs of my reaction, internally I was shaken. So much so that I almost blew my cover. Yes, even as Mildred Evans, Sister Millie, it―
Well, it’s hard to explain. I was tempted, of course, to ask why, … but, of course, I didn’t. “I’ll get to it right away, Warren,” was the best thing I could say at the time, and I turned away walking toward a filing cabinet, as any loyal Anglo-Saxon secretary would do, but with shaking hands that I hid from my boss.
I found that on the application form there was a line for ‘racial origin,’ and so I was able to do my job. I discovered that throughout the 1920s there were usually about 64 students per year admitted, with 18-25% being Jewish. Other ethnic groups also came – Ukrainian, Polish, German, and so forth, but in smaller percentages. Most, not surprisingly, were Anglo-Saxon – good English stock, according to Warren. When I presented my finding to him, I added another category, and I prefaced it by saying that I hoped he didn’t think I was being impudent in doing so. It was the number of women admitted, which was very low – often none, sometimes one or two. Warren smiled and said it was fine for me to be “conscious of my sex” and he blushed after he said it. I think hearing himself saying the word ‘sex’ out-loud to me, well, it jolted him – the way, on the previous day, his word ‘Jews’ jolted me.
Subsequently, my eavesdropping elicited more examples of anti-Semitism endemic to the faculty, as he chatted in his office with other administrators, keeping his door open. They all agreed. “Too many pushy Jews.” “Since they invariably get high grades in school, if we don’t put a lid on the enrolment, soon they will all be Jews.” “If we don’t do something now, well Jews will take over the faculty.” “First the Jews and then Ukrainians or Poles.” “At least the Frenchies have their own college in St. Boniface.” And so it went – a litany of bigotry, discrimination, and prejudice straight from the mouths of the administrative faculty to the ears of Mildred Evans. At most, a few made mild queries as to the efficacy of it, and the possibility of “aggressive Jewish lawyers” filing a legal case against the practice.
In the end there was a quota system initiated for all incoming classes, keeping the Jewish enrolment low. In 1936, for example, only nine got in. In later years even fewer. Out of 60 or more students, sometimes only four to six were Jewish. Of course, this meant that Anglo-Saxon students with far lower grades than Jewish students were admitted in place of them. And this was for a school to train physicians, dealing with life and death. “Just what we need – dumber doctors,” I told my Jewish friends. You see, I didn’t hide my clandestine information. I told anyone who would listen to me. Unfortunately, where it might make a difference, I got indifference, brought on by fear. Rabbis were afraid to do anything. They went along with the quota rule. “Don’t make waves, things could get worse,” was a standard response. Yes, they went along with the quota system. “Don’t look like a ‘pushy Jew,’ at least we get the ones that we get,” I was told. “Look, honey, be happy with four to six doctors a year,” I was told to my face by a rabbi’s wife. The same thing from the Jewish establishment. The B’nai Brith was afraid to do anything because it might backfire and only make matters worse. Similarly, for the Canadian Jewish Congress, which was reluctant to get involved in this Winnipeg issue. “What wimps,” I told my friends. I did the best I could. I didn’t blow my cover.
For me this thing came to a head in 1943, when the med school again turned down many Jewish and some other ‘ethnic’ students, so as to admit Anglo-Saxon students with (in this case) not only lower grades – but they also admitted some students who didn’t even pass their university exams and thus were required to go to summer school! To me, this was the last straw. The Jewish students’ Avakah Zionist Society got wind of this and began to bring all this out into the open. They eventually got the help of a Jewish lawyer and, yes, a fuss was raised and pressure was put on the Board of the University of Manitoba.
Finally, in 1944, after a dozen years of overt discrimination, the Medical School removed the racial and religious categories in their application. The quota rule finally ended. I celebrated with my Jewish friends. And, yes, Mildred “Prissy” Evans got a little tipsy.
Speaking of celebrating. In 1949, Dr. Warren Matthews was awarded an Honourary Doctor of Laws for his dedicated service to the University. I was invited to a private party for him, but I made up some excuse as to why I couldn’t make it. You see, I was afraid that if I did go, I would not be able to control myself, and proper Mildred Evans, aka Sister Millie, would perform the very unladylike act of making a scene by copiously spitting into the party’s punch bowl.
* * *
Features
Part 9 of the delusional Winnipeg con man: His phoney promises to fund a charitable foundation in Africa lead one trusting individual to contemplate suicide
By BERNIE BELLAN This is the ninth part of a story about a delusional Winnipegger who believes he is someone of great wealth and has spent the better part of 30 years contacting people all over the world telling them that he wants to invest in their businesses or projects. The first eight parts of this story are all available to read under the FEATURES category on this website.
Here is part 9 of my story:
Of all the deceptions in which Fred Devlin engaged over the years, arguably the one that inflicted the most damage was on the man I’ve been calling Charlie, who lives in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
As I’ve explained, that initial email which I received on January 16, 2026 was supposedly sent by Charlie (whose real name sounded much more African than that). While I was impressed by the quality of writing that went into that email and responded to it immediately it came as a surprise to me that the follow-up email which I received did not come from Charlie. Instead it came from the man I’ve been calling Rick.
Why was Charlie’s name being used as the author of an email whose contents were so explosive if, in fact, it was someone else entirely who had written that email?
I’m still not sure of the answer to that question. Clearly Rick had his own reasons for not attaching his name to that January 16 email, but when I finally did hear from Charlie it wasn’t until March 7 – and what he wrote was so plaintive that I was prompted to send him some money.
Here is the line of communication that began between Charlie and me – and which is still ongoing as I write this:
emails between Charlie and me sent on March 7, 2026
Hi Bernie, I’d like to kill myself and leave a note, because I’ve got a bad reputation now because of Fred. Next week I have to pay $1200. Fred told me to borrow it and start a charity he was going to fund on January 25th, but so far he hasn’t done anything; it seems like he forgot. I need to find this money and I don’t know how. I’m considering suicide because I have no other options.
Thank you.
Hi Charlie,
To whom do you owe the money?
Bernie
He’s the owner of a cooperative and savings association, and luckily he knows Fred too, because he gave me that money in two installments. Fred also emailed him asking about the banking procedures for transferring the money from Luxembourg. He also knows Fred. He owns this association. He gave me that money because he saw Fred on the video call and it was Fred speaking. But at some point, Fred denied it; we have all the evidence.
Fred said he was going to put down $450,000 or $300,000 in January to start the projects. Everyone in my town knows this story, and everyone is a witness.
Charlie
Did the fellow who gave you the money make you sign something?
Bernie
Yes, he did
He gave us 1000 dollars, and we have give him 1200$.
Charlie
I don’t understand. This fellow gave you $1,000 but you’ve given him $1200. Do you mean that you owe him $1200?
Bernie
Yes, the $200 is for his benefit. If you borrow $500, you have to repay $600. If you take out a loan of $1000, you’ll repay $1200. I owe him $1200. And besides, we wanted to take out a loan of $3000, but I had my doubts. I’d like to kill myself because I’ve lost my reputation. Fred even sent me to the leaders of my town, telling them he was going to improve living conditions here and create many jobs, telling them he was going to implement “Congo Improvement Projects.”
Charlie
Maybe I can negotiate a deal with this guy that you owe money to. What if I offer to pay him $500? Will he let you off the hook? $1200 is a lot of money.
Bernie
If you could help me by just paying him $600, that would be great because he can give me another three months. And I can also arrange to pay in installments. But it will depend on your availability. I really thank you so much.
Charlie
Before I agree to send any money I want to see something in writing from the guy you borrowed from promising that he will give you another 3 months to repay the other $600.
Bernie
That’s a good idea, we can thank you because you just saved my life. I’ll do it, but on Monday. Because tomorrow I can just tell him this and complete the document. Once we receive the money, that’s how we can sign. But also, here our official language is French. The document will be written in French.
Charlie
By the way – I’m Canadian. Our dollar is worth far less than an American dollar. I will only give $600 Cdn.
But you’re going to have to tell me more about how you got involved with Fred.
Bernie
Fred had contacted me alone since 2020. He told me he was a businessman with an organization called Xanadu Charitable Foundation which he wanted to establish in Africa, and that I would be the future project manager, but first and foremost, I had to be a volunteer, and I agreed to that. My story is very long; I’ll gather all the evidence tomorrow and send it to you.
I have several documents that Fred sent me, letters of recommendation to show to the leaders of my city. I have everything, and Fred himself knows this. Try asking for it; he can’t refuse because he knows I have all the evidence.
Charlie
emails sent March 8
Hi Bernie, I was talking to Rick. He told me to send more emails about Fred’s situation. I told him I’m waiting until we can finalize things with you, or until he tells you first. I’ve already promised the landlord I owe him half this week, and we’re going to complete the paperwork with him tomorrow. But right now I’m completely overwhelmed; I don’t know what’s going on anymore. You said you don’t really know my story? But I wrote it to you a long time ago. (Charlie is referring here to the January 16 email. For some reason he was still maintaining the pretense that he wrote that email.) Double-check your emails. And if you have any questions, you can ask me.
Charlie
Yes, I read your story, but it doesn’t tell me how Fred found you. I want to know exactly what you did when Fred contacted you.
I also want to see something in writing that shows what Fred promised you.
Finally, I want to know the same thing I’ve asked everyone else: Did you ever do anything to check out whether what Fred was telling you bore any relation to reality?
All that I’ve heard from everyone I’ve talked to is how convincing Fred was. Am I the only person who’s met Fred who realized early on he was full of shit?
Bernie
At my age, it wasn’t easy not to believe an older person like Fred. The evidence and documents I have are, firstly, the confidential agreement he had me sign, and secondly, a letter of reference he gave me to show to the leaders of my city so they could investigate, telling them he was going to build here. I even managed to print t-shirts for his organization with my own money, and one day, I even managed to feed 250 orphaned children in Fred’s name. The promises are in our conversations, and sometimes we had video conferences with him. I’m not here to smear him because I respect him greatly; I’m here to tell the truth. I have screenshots, images, and documents to prove all of this.
Charlie
Charlie, I’ve got to know who wrote that original email I received from you on January 16. Was it Rick? If so, why didn’t he send it himself? Why did it come from you?
Bernie
For the first time, Fred sent me a Messenger invitation. After I accepted, he told me I was lucky and that God loved me very much because I had just met a great person and the owner of a large organization called Xanadu, A few days later, he told me I would be Xanadu’s future representative in Congo. I was surprised too, and I immediately checked his profile. I found he was real, even though I still had some doubts until we started video calls for conferences. We continued our discussions for a year. Afterward, he told me I had to work hard to get the representative position. He suggested I volunteer to gain experience. I was easily convinced because during our video calls, he was always sitting in a luxurious office with computers. I couldn’t have any more doubts. And that’s where it all began.
Charlie
email received from Charlie March 9
Hello Bernie, I acknowledge my mistake in not realizing Fred was mentally ill. It was difficult for us not to believe him because during video conferences he seemed serious. I was right because he always made promises he never kept. He also told me he had meetings with Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu. I also wonder how someone who talks to these adults can have the time to talk to me.
Regarding the names of the people I know that Fred told me he spoke to about his businesses, I suspect he defrauded and lied to.
Charlie
On March 11 I sent Charlie $600 Cdn. It wasn’t easy completing that transaction. In fact, I attempted to send the money several times through different methods. I finally settled on using something called Remitly, but I had to have a phone number for Charlie. It turned out that he gave me the phone number for a friend who is registered with Remitly. When I entered Charlie’s name as the recipient, however, the transaction didn’t go through – and it took me some time to get the money back into my bank account. I was quite upset with Charlie over his not telling me that the phone number he gave me wasn’t his – but in the end I was able to send the money to him successfully – after I changed the name of the recipient to his friend’s name.
emails sent March 12
Hi Bernie, I’m writing to you to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I only recently met you, but you helped me with problems that weren’t yours. I’ve never met someone as kind-hearted as you. You’ve sacrificed so much for me; you’re so kind and understanding, like a parent to me. I handed over the money today, and I’ve been granted another three months. I’m looking for a job, and if I find one, I hope I can finish the rest on my own.
I have a report I’m going to send you. It’s a report from the field trip I did across the entire country. Fred told me he was going to implement a project here called the “Congo Improvement Project.” He told me to identify the problems facing Congo and propose solutions. It was work I did with all my heart, but in the end, Fred was always there to betray me. The report is 33 pages long. It’s work I myself greatly appreciated. Right now, it’s become a real obstacle for me because I used Fred as a reference on all my CVs, and no one can trust me anymore because I defended him so much here. I said he was a good and genuine person. I deeply regret my life. Fred has just destroyed it.
Charlie
Hey Charlie,
I was glad to help. Your story was one of the worst I heard of all the people Fred sucked into his orbit. I’m still wrestling with how I should write this story. Your part of the story is especially poignant because you actually put out money that you didn’t have – all in pursuit of a worthy project that was intended only to help people.
I consider myself very lucky in that I was born and grew up in a great country like Canada. I’ve done okay financially but my no means am I rich. Still, I contribute a lot to charity. Helping out someone like you is all part and parcel of the same thing as far as I’m concerned. And just because it was difficult getting you the money – and I got upset with you a couple of times – doesn’t mean I won’t help you again. If you find it a real struggle paying off the rest of what you owe let me know. I’m prepared to help more if necessary.
-Bernie
email from Charlie March 14
I understand, Bernie. Luckily, you understood everything. What Fred did to me will hurt me for the rest of my life. Here, several people keep asking me, “When are you going to implement the project with Fred?” I always feel ashamed everywhere.
Charlie
email from Charlie March 17
Hi Bernie, I hope you’re doing well. I received some annoying messages from Rick. He told me he doesn’t believe in anyone anymore, and that we’re all corrupt. I didn’t reply because I didn’t understand. I can’t threaten anyone; I can only respect what’s in order. Personally, I wanted to write a long letter and then kill myself. I didn’t need to bother anyone or say too much. I was really surprised to see his messages saying we’re corrupt.
Charlie
emails sent March 18
Just ignore him Charlie. I don’t really know him but from what he’s written to me lately he’s clearly not well.
Bernie
Thank you so much for your advice. This time Fred isn’t calling me anymore. He did call me once, offering me money for a small project to calm me down, but I knew it was just a scam. In the next two weeks, I’m going to explain Fred’s story to the people in my town, because many people are waiting for funding from him and they don’t know what happened. In the meantime, I’m waiting for a job here. If it works out, everything will be fine, but if it doesn’t, I’ll still be in a bad situation.
Charlie
The fact Fred has stopped calling you could mean one of two things: Either he is at times aware of his behaviour and can control it for periods of time or more likely, there are people closely monitoring him now and trying to keep him from continuing his delusional behaviour online. I’d be curious to see whether he continues to leave you alone. Keep me posted and of course I hope things work out for you.
Bernie
Maybe.
Do you know why I wanted to kill myself? It’s because I sang (?) Fred a lot here in my town. We were promised great leaders that we would create jobs here, but now everyone sees me as a liar, nobody believes me anymore, everyone says I’m a scammer too. It’s difficult for me, that’s why I’m desperate.
Charlie
Well, if you need to show people something that will prove you never intended to mislead anyone I’ve been writing a story about what Fred Devlin has done – and is continuing to do. I’ve finished the first 4 chapters and you’re welcome to read it if you like – and share with anyone who is angry at you. Of course, it’s in English but I can try to translate it using AI.
Bernie
emails from Charlie March 19
The big problem is that Africans think that a crazy white person, a scammer white person, and a poor white person don’t exist; it’s difficult to convince them. Africans think that white people are perfect.
Charlie
Hi Bernie, I tried to sit down with my father and some of the elders in my town who know Freds story well. Because I’m the son of a reverend pastor, and Fred had promised my father he would build him a church. Now I’ve made them understand that Fred is a con artist; he also has a mental problem. I apologized to them. They told me it wasn’t possible, but in the end they understood, though they were very surprised to hear it. My father cried. The elders in my town told me I must be in cahoots with Fred and that maybe I’m the con artist. They asked me about the money I borrowed, and I told them I’m paying it back myself. They asked me how I met him and advised me not to trust people anymore.
Charlie
emails sent March 20
Well, you can tell them that there’s at least one white guy out there who’s nice, who believes in you, has helped you and is doing everything he can to stop Fred Devlin from making your life and other people’s lives miserable.
Bernie
Thank you so much, Bernie. They also have some questions, asking me how I had the courage to sacrifice myself like that for someone like Fred. Bernie, maybe you only know the debt I owe because of Fred, but you don’t know the story behind me, and that’s why I wanted to kill myself. For my part, I can only thank you for giving me hope for life again. But here at home, no one can believe in me anymore. I can’t leave my city, I can’t work here except start a business because everyone knows I’m waiting for funding from Fred. I’d also like to ask you a question out of curiosity: do you have any people here in Africa? Do you know Africa? Have you ever been to Africa?
Charlie
emails sent March 21
Sorry Charlie – I don’t know anyone in Africa except some people in South Africa – and I don’t really know them. I just have a good friend who’s from South Africa who still has lots of friends and relatives there and he’s introduced me to some of them online.
I don’t understand how the people in your home town still believe that Fred is going to provide you with funding. How much proof do they need to understand he’s a very sick person and nothing he has ever said is real?
Do you want me to send you what I’ve written for my story so far? I supposed you could translate it into French if necessary. Maybe then people would understand how crazy Fred is.
Bernie
Hi Bernie, I was with another team today, some of the people Fred had promised to start with me. I tried to explain things to them, and they understood, even though it wasn’t easy for them. Tomorrow I have a general meeting with them and some of the leaders here. I can even send you the photos tomorrow. Despite everything, it’s very embarrassing for me; no one believes me anymore. Some even tell me they’ll never trust me again.
I’m hated in my community now. How can I continue living this life with a bad reputation? Bernie, if you ever stop seeing my messages, know that I’m no longer in this world. It’s not easy being hated by your community; you can’t buy a reputation, it’s earned through your actions. Goodbye.
Charlie
Charlie – don’t lose hope and please don’t think of killing yourself. Of course I understand what a difficult situation you are in. Is there anyone in your town that I could speak to to try to tell them that you were just an innocent victim of a very sick person – who also victimized many other people? What would it take for your reputation to be reburnished?
Bernie
Bernie, I’m African, but somewhat civilized. I know Africans well, which is why I don’t want to put you in contact, because he’ll only ask for money. The only solution is to change my environment. When I pay off this debt, I’m just going to move far away from here. Otherwise, I risk getting stressed. I’m waiting for tomorrow’s meeting, and then I’ll tell you what happens next.
Charlie
emails sent March 24
Hi Bernie, I have a long letter to write to you today because I had a big meeting with everyone who knows Fred because of me. But first of all, I apologize if this is going to bother you. By the way, I wanted to show you the plaque that a village chief made for Fred, because Fred promised he would arrive here in 2023. He also asked me how Fred is doing.
Charlie
I hope your people listen to you & understand how you were completely fooled by Fred.
Bernie
Yes, only the wise ones understood. The others say that if I didn’t take the money, it means I was Fred’s accomplice. The others say they’re going to file a complaint against me. The others understood. Here, where I come from, promising an orphanage and not keeping that promise is a great sin; it’s taboo here. But I don’t see my future in this city. I have a bad reputation right now.
Charlie
On March 26 I wrote to Charlie that the lawyer I had contacted about taking on Jonathan as a client had told me that he had asked the head of civiil litigation at his firm to get in touch with me. I also told the lawyer that there was someone else who had been very badly hurt by having been duped by Fred Devlin – but that this poor fellow lived in Africa. I said that I really hoped a lawsuit could proceed so that Fred Devlin’s parents might finally take steps to harness their delusional son and keep him from contacting anyone ever again with a promise to invest in a project with that person.
I sent Charlie a copy of what I had written for this story to that point.
He responded: Thank you so much, Bernie. I just translated and read part of it. Congratulations on what you’re doing; you’re a true writer. Fred called me 10 minutes ago saying he wants to work with me, but fortunately, I ignored him.
Charlie
Can you keep a record of every time he calls you and I hope you keep all messages he sent you.
Bernie
Yes, I keep just messages and mails
Charlie
ok that’s good. Do you think you could send some to me – not all of them, just ones where he promises he’s going to fund the charitable foundation he wanted you to set up. I want to use them in my story – with the names changed of course.
Bernie
But he did a lot of things via video calls and other things in writing.
Charlie
emails sent March 27
I don’t know that anything I would do would make any difference, but I’d like to have as much written material as possible for what I’m writing.
Obviously, you can’t send me videos or memories of conversations.
Bernie
I have a lot of evidence and documents because I have a Xanadu folder on my computer with everything. Unfortunately, I gave my computer as collateral to the person I owe, so I can only use some of the evidence on my phone. Fred is asking me how much money I want to give him back his website because it contains all the information about him and who he claimed to be. He’s afraid I might reveal it.
Charlie
Charlie sends me a screenshot of a text message sent from Fred to Charlie:
“Your land, your house, your pharmacy your phone your books, computer and your future revenue. You sided with my enemies and will legally lose everthing.”
March 28 Charlie sends me another screenshot of a text message from Fred to him:
“I have hired lawyers to take all your life’s assets. You have until 12noon Central time to take down internet slander and apologize on facebook.
“You have assisted in publicly attempting to lie and ruin my reputation.
“If you decide to lie about our good relationship my family and I will sue you. If you continue to slander my reputation you will be sued. You better take down the slander sites immediately.”
emails sent March 28
Bernie, as I told you long ago, I’m not here to smear Fred, but to tell the truth. I wanted to commit suicide because I’m worthless in my community because of him. I have all the testimonies, as well as witnesses who know my story with Fred well. There are even documents he sent me to show the leaders of my town, showing him that he was going to implement several projects here. Since I needed a job in the future, I was always obedient to him because I had no choice. I printed t-shirts, I bought food to feed 300 orphans twice a year in Xanadu’s name, and Fred congratulated me, telling me I was the best. He lied to my father, saying he was going to build his church because my father is a reverend pastor. I have a lot of evidence that proves everything. He told me to spend what I have to buy hectares of land he was going to finance in January, but so far he hasn’t done anything except deceive me. He was video conferencing with several people from my village using my phone, telling them he was going to finance it in January. Now everyone in my community is against me. If you talk about Fred or Xanadu, they might kill you. I deleted all my posts about Xanadu and burned the knitting (?) too. Right now, Fred is threatening to destroy me.
Charlie
Can you forward me actual messages showing that they were from Fred? Someone could say that you wrote these messages yourself.
Bernie
Hello Bernie, Fred spent all night threatening to kill me, saying he’s going to take everything I have spiritually, and that anyone I work with will hate me. He said he can’t help me with anything anymore and that I’ll be back to square one. For my part, I’d like to take my time and write at least 5 or 6 pages about my story with Fred, because right now I’m still saddened by what he keeps saying. He writes things and sometimes deletes them; luckily, I’m taking screenshots. Sometimes he calls me and insults me. He told me if I publish his website where all his information is, I’ll die and he’ll kill me spiritually.
Charlie
Also, on March 20, Charlie began sending me messages on WhatAapp in addition to emailing me.
His first message was: Good morning Bernie. I’m Charlie. I asked you for your WhatsApp number because that’s where I can easily send you several pieces of evidence and that’s where I always communicate.
Attached to Charlie’s message were several images, most of which were indecipherable, but two of which showed Charlie – one with a group of kids from his community who, I assume, were to be beneficiaries of the charitable foundation Charlie was going to create – using money from Fred Devlin’s Xanadu Foundation. The other photo was of Charlie meeting with women from his community. From one of his previous emails I surmise that he was trying to explain to them that he had been duped by Devlin.
Also attached to Charlie’s WhatsApp message was a message from “David Simkin,” the supposed CEO of the Xanadu Group of Companies. It’s particularly galling that within Devlin’s enormous delusion he actually would have gone so far as to create a fictitious character who became part of his story – and whose name was used to add a patina of respectability to what was utter nonsense.
Sequel to Charlie’s story: I eventually sent Charlie another $800 so that he could pay off the rest of the debt he had incurred by having t-shirts made with the charitable foundation logo on the front, along with food that he bought for 300 orphans in his community.
I’ve remained in touch with Charlie, who tells me how difficult it is for him to find work in Africa, even though he’s highly educated and speaks seven different languages. The immense toll that being strung along by Fred Devlin for years will never be ameliorated.
Coming next: I receive a surprise phone call from the man I’ve been calling Fred Devlin, who asks to meet with me. I end up confronting him over all the cons he’s been pulling.
Features
BOOK REVIEW: “Fighting the Hate: A Handbook for Jews Under Siege”
Reviewed by MURRAY BENDER “Thinking on your feet”—quickly defending a position in a coherent, persuasive manner—is a situation that many people find challenging and stressful. “If only I had said this.” or “Why didn’t I say that?” Hindsight is always 20-20.
Following the Hamas atrocities of October 7, 2023, it has become increasingly necessary for diaspora Jews to “think on their feet” as they unwittingly face a barrage of tough, sometimes hateful, questions about Jews and their Israeli homeland.
Why is Israel committing genocide in Gaza? Why doesn’t Israel return the land it has stolen from Palestinians? Why are Israeli settlers attacking Palestinian farmers? How is Israel different from apartheid South Africa? Why can’t I criticize Israel without being called antisemitic? Is it true that Jews control the world? The list of potential questions is nearly endless.
Engage or hide? This is the difficult choice that confronts Jews as they look to deal with anti-Jewish and anti-Israeli behaviour. Fortunately, author and journalist Melanie Phillips comes to the rescue with her practical and insightful book, Fighting the Hate: A Handbook for Jews Under Siege.
According to Phillips, the dilemma has no single answer. “People need to decide how to behave in accordance not just with the specific circumstances but also with their own attributes and limitations.”
Some regard engagement with their opponents as a sacred duty. “They believe it is a betrayal of the Jewish people not to uphold Israel’s case.” Ohers may be uncomfortable with such a direct approach, but “those who decide to keep their heads down and avoid any altercation may well find that this leaves them with a permanent sense of regret and even failure,” she says.
As a result, it’s probably a good idea to adopt some sort of balance. And that’s where Phillips’ 150-page handbook comes in.
She starts by providing context around the “crisis of legitimacy and acceptance” from which Jews are reeling post-October 7. On the basis of extensive conversations with Jews from across the U.S., Britain and Australia, the author found that many “were near stupefied by the terrifying hatred and irrationality that was unfolding around them.” Again and again, they asked: “What should we do? What can we do?”
In response, Phillips offers a pragmatic approach to help prepare for the inevitable conversations, including a number of key principles:
- Get smart rather than emotional
- Stop playing defence
- Find common ground
- Be positive and confident
- Keep physically safe
Based on these overarching criteria, she provides an extensive list of quick and clever retorts to a range of different situations, emphasizing that “it’s our duty to our children and grandchildren to fight for truth and justice.”
So, the next time it is necessary to “think on their feet,” diaspora Jews will be able to respond quickly and confidently to those difficult questions about themselves and Israel. And they can thank Melanie Phillips for coming to the rescue.
Fighting the Hate: A Handbook for Jews Under Siege by Melanie Phillips is available online from Amazon and Indigo.
Features
ESports Meets Casinos: Overview of Bet Sport Gaming
ESports has become part of the interactive entertainment of online casinos. In fact, many fans already have the opportunity to use Dragonia Casino Bet Sport options while watching the matches of their favorite teams. The hybrid entertainment model opens up many possibilities and increases audience engagement. When video games intersect with betting, it creates a unique collaboration where participants have the opportunity to get a completely new experience right in their own home. At the same time, you can continue to enjoy the usual viewing of familiar tournaments and competitions.
How ESports and Casinos Interconnect
ESports has become a multi-billion-dollar industry that attracts spectators. Traditional casinos are focused on luck. But now they are introducing additional methods of encouraging their customers. Among such options, eSports events deserve special attention. Such bet sport offers combine the usual excitement with an element of competition. The structure of the casino entertainment provides participants with the opportunity to test their skills and reveal their own hidden talents. There are several forms of integration of eSports mechanics into the structure of a classic online casino:
- Competitive betting. Online casinos provide the opportunity to bet on eSports tournaments, which is similar to the usual sports betting. In addition, the possibilities are significantly expanded compared to simple viewing platforms.
- Skill-based casino games. Games inspired by eSports encourage players to actively participate in what is happening on the screen. The games reward the player’s results with certain prizes.
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Such innovations appeal to new participants. Cultural changes are part of the development of the infrastructure of the classic casino, and eSports fans find a new environment for entertainment and communication.
Growth of ESports Betting
Global eSports revenue in 2025 exceeded $1.5 billion. Each bet sport option has made a significant contribution to the development. Surveys show that over 60% of players will express interest in betting on eSports, which reflects the demand and the need to develop an updated infrastructure for participation.
ESports events attract 15-20% more new participants compared to conventional casinos. The eSports betting market will exceed $20 billion by 2027, according to analysts’ forecasts, which encourages new participants to more actively watch tournaments and participate in various types of activity.
Why Fans Choose ESports
Bet sport gambling is gaining popularity. This is due to several reasons. For example, large casinos in Las Vegas and Macau now host full-fledged eSports tournaments alongside traditional entertainment. Venues are also experimenting with separate fan zones where sports betting and classic gambling are available.
Some of the most popular eSports disciplines are League of Legends and Counter-Strike: Global Offensive. Some online casinos even introduce eSports mechanics into slots so that players can try something new.
In short, the intersection of eSports and casinos is a natural development of the industry. Competitive play and an optimized betting system create a comfortable environment for true fans who want to diversify their leisure time.