Framed for Murder by Officers of the Law
The P. F. Lazor Story
by P. F. Lazor (Ione, California)
The courts and prison systems across the USA are jointly being misused to kidnap innocent American citizens. I have been imprisoned under that status for 21 years, and continuing. But where much of a person's earlier youth was carefully invested in future aspirations, as was mine, those years have also been stolen. I have never been involved with crime at any level nor with the criminal element, in my life.
More than 200 sworn declarations from society's most outstanding people who've known me personally throughout my life have been submitted to the courts attesting to my lifelong character, particularly of non-violence, excellent social adjustment, working to better my community, and investing my life to achieve highly and to contribute in beneficial ways to mankind. (Can be made available on request). 
In a nutshell: I was minding my business one afternoon in my home, which I was in the process of moving out of.
Suddenly, a crazed, maniacal man who had been stalking me with escalating violence for ten weeks, got through my locked front door in total silence and, while yelling threats to kill, violently bashed on my locked bedroom door with his feet and body slams, some 15-20 times. The door finally crashed open. He swung a meat cleaver at my head to chop it in half, and at some point in the commotion displayed a hand gun. (It turned out to be a high-powered BB-pellet pistol, but to everyone looked like a real semiautomatic firearm).
Fortunately, I had a legal, loaded handgun and fired it to save my life. Though in a dire panic, losing conscious perception and judgment; I stopped firing when he went down, wounded. My gun still had unfired bullets; he stood back upon his feet wounded, but unarmed. I immediately called the police and ambulance to save him. He lived three or four hours (depending on which falsified police report you read), and died at the hands of state officers' misconduct or neglect. Police admit he stood on his feet in their presence, hard to restrain. I was charged with premeditated first degree murder, of which I was acquitted; but the same jury convicted me of second degree murder, with a parole date of 1992 – had I been guilty. Yet I'm still in prison for this today (2004). The crimes in this case were committed by the attacker and the police/prosecution agents to deliberately frame me for murder, rather than by myself.
The fact that I had slight contact with the attacker previously, and all other surrounding events, simply have no relevance to innocence or guilt, as my action was caused solely by the imminently-fatal, violent attack. Even so, the following information will encapsulate the precipitating events.
Case Background and Surrounding Events
Thanksgiving Day, 1981: I began subletting a house as my residence in Los Gatos, California. The house was slated to be demolished eventually, and high-rise condominiums built on the plot of land. Paul Garnier, representing the new partnership owners of the property, was so happy with my renovation of the premises that we arrived at an agreement whereas I'd maintain the property in exchange for my residency, and I was free to sub let extra rooms to offset my renovation costs.
By July1982, I'd purchased the house structure outright with the option to move it to another lot within 30 days after financing would come through for the planned demolition (which never came through). Also, I was now required to pay a rental fee for the land on which my house sat, as long as I and the house remained there. As a licensed realtor, I'd done similar transactions in the past, with no problems, and I faithfully paid the rent at all times, as agreed.
September, 1982: Garnier introduced me to his nephew, John Allred, a homeless man from far out of town, newly arrived in Los Gatos. To help a fellow man in need, I gave into their pleas to let Allred rent a room for three weeks. He moved out thereafter, as agreed, but left a roomful of furniture, for which they were supposed to pay me storage rent. It was a scam to bilk me, but I wouldn't know until after Allred's death. Because I often worked away from home on the road in my businesses and doing sound recordings and night music-stage performances, Allred and I never had more than about fifteen minutes contact from the day we met, until he died. Most of that time was his several acts of stalking and violence against me. The jury was misled to believe that Allred lived in the house and I didn't when the shooting occurred!
Allred manipulated two other unsavory tenants, friends of Garnier's family, to carry on a secretive campaign of slanderous complaints behind my back to induce Garnier to breach our tenancy contract. It was later determined that Allred was ragefully jealous that he missed out on inheriting the house due to my purchase of it. It blocked him from carrying out nefarious plans he had for his hoped-for ownership of it until demolition time.
December 20, 1982: Allred's schemes succeeded: Garnier suddenly demanded that I vacate the property immediately, notwithstanding that I owned the house that sat on his land; and he admitted he never gave a 30-day notice to quit tenancy as required by California law. Allred sealed this breach of contract, in a public restaurant, by diving over a table, lunging at my throat, until pulled off by Garnier.
Bending over backwards to keep peace and provide safety for my possessions, I began moving my things from the house in increments over the next few weeks while contacting civil attorneys and tenancy agencies for a civil resolution and restraining order. But Allred cut that short – along with his life:
Before 30 days elapsed from the illegal demand to vacate, I was at home packing the last of my most valuable items in my car to store elsewhere. I'd even decided to probably let the house go, as it wasn't worth the trouble, in light of my other burgeoning life successes that I'd invested the last thirteen years of my life to finally achieve: So that it wouldn't be sitting in my car, close to the roadside, my handgun (legal and registered, and loaded, as advised by the gun dealer), was among the last items I'd remove from my room. Luckily, the bedroom door automatically locks as it closes shut.
I'd be packed and gone within the next fifteen minutes, except, fate tragically intervened.
While on my last phone call before leaving, speaking to a stranger at a tenancy agency, suddenly the bashing of the door began, until Allred crashed it open. I was panicked at a level of quasi-unconsciousness, and under greatly impaired vision without my glasses on, as his weapon was swung at me with the force of a major-league batter, a split second after the door burst open. It smashed into a knee I'd recently injured so seriously that doctors opined I may never have normal use of it again. This physical force and pain surge probably also contributed to my near unconscious state of panic as I fired the gun sporadically, I thought, maybe two rapid-fire shots, after a wild shot went off into the air.
The same Los Gatos police officers who treated me with hostility over the previous two months as I called them for their intervention against Allred's stalking, threats and battery on me, were assigned to handle the shooting “crime” and to witness against me in the murder trial. They are especially notorious for corrupt police activities. Now, 22 years later; the evidence showing a very intimate, even romantic, relationship between one of them and Allred, remains suppressed by the prosecution team, with the aid of my duplicitous defense attorney.
Classic Course in How to Frame an Innocent Man
However shocking the following may be to the uninitiated, it is very easy to achieve by two simple ingredients: A treacherous defense attorney deliberately aiding and covering up for prosecution officers' criminal conduct, and a naive, trusting accused citizen ignorant of his legal rights, blindly relying on fair play and justice to prevail.
Admitting to killing or shooting in self-defense, hands the prosecution team two out of three strikes toward a murder conviction; so the more honest/noncriminal the accused is in such a case, the greater are the chances of his conviction while innocent of any crime. And it's the only type of innocence case that all of the innocence-assistance organizations in the USA refuse to get involved with, by policy (except one that I know of: Innocence Denied). The following list of more than 20 separate crimes committed by the prosecutor and police is only the tip of the iceberg of one category of fraud and gross error in this case, out of eighteen separate major categories of other types of issues that won't be gone into here at all, due to space limitations – some of which are equally as egregious. It took 21 years of nonstop daily work due to prison impediments and few outsiders willing to help, to gather the following proof of these items, and more is still coming to the surface.
The following items, critical to determining guilt or innocence, were all deliberately, by separate systematic acts of prosecution agents and the defense attorney aiding them, manufactured, planted, materially altered, hidden/suppressed, destroyed (where exonerating), and otherwise tampered with to intentionally frame me for murder and imprison me for life, when they knew I was innocent:
The meat cleaver attack weapon was thrown away or given by police to the attacker's mother. The jury never heard it existed, though it's in police photos at the scene.
The attacker's body was hastily cremated to allow the prosecutor to proclaim to the jury that I repeatedly shot him in the back, when all shots were from his front as he charged at me. The defense attorney told the jury he agreed with the prosecutor. Nineteen years later, this same coroner has finally been busted in another published case having falsified an autopsy report to allow the prosecution to charge an innocent man with murder. (Discovered only by exhumation, because that body was not cremated).
Two different autopsy reports are referenced in police documents. The later, falsified one, designed to fit the prosecutor's manufactured murder case, was the only one the jury knew existed. The original one, by another coroner who was never questioned in this case, remains suppressed.
 The attacker's fingerprints on his gun were deliberately removed by the prosecutor's criminalist after confirmation that these visible fingerprints in tacky blood, were Allred's. It's the only time we can find in forensic history anywhere, that fingerprints were subjected to autoclaving – before being printed. After autoclaving away the fingerprints with scalding steam under pressure, the prosecutor then found no fingerprints remaining, so he could then proclaim that absence of the fingerprints prove that I planted the gun next to the “victim”, to feign self-defense after a heinous execution style murder (all just made up out of nothing).
 A towel left at the crime scene by medics I called to save the guy, was then used by the prosecutor as planted evidence to prove to the jury that I wiped my own fingerprints off the “planted” gun with this towel.
 The prosecution's autoclaving action caused the caked blood on the gun to run in the scalding steam; the prosecutor proclaimed that this was “wiping” streaks and smearing made by me by wiping my fingerprints off the planted gun; further proving murder.
 The attacker's two shirts and jacket would prove the bullets went from front-to-back; so the prosecutor autoclaved these also, in an effort to destroy the clothing fibers that proved this, and still to this day suppress these clothes. (New technology can prove the true direction, even after autoclaving, hence the police are refusing to let them be tested, now).
 Initial police reports show 3 or 4 bullets maximum expelled from my gun, one of which was a wild shot off into the air, confirmed by a “fine toothed-comb” search of the premises and my gun. Days later, the police went back and miraculously found two more bullet shells right in the midst of this close-cropped crime scene.
 Initial police reports corroborating each other, list “several” and “some” unfired bullets left in my gun, besides one in the chamber. This proved I expelled no more than 3 or 4 panicked shots. By trial time, all police changed their stories to “one” left in the clip, to match the manufactured murder case. To date, no one can account for the chain of custody glitch and change, because my attorney stipulated away any inquiry to cover up this fraud.
 The door jamb, severed, broken and splintered all over, showing the immense violent force by the attacker to get at me, to kill me, was simply turned over to the attacker's family and friends, along with my house in its entirety, to quickly dismantle and destroy the crime scene long before trial.
 The door itself was presented in trial – but not quite. It's most important feature, the door knob with its bent steel shaft (proving Allred's powerful, killer force to get at me), was carefully removed by police to put into a “Hefty” garbage bag, and set out at the roadside for waste pickup and disposal. It was fortuitously recovered with police fingerprints on it, to use as evidence of evidence tampering. But my own attorney confiscated it from me, to hide all through trial, to cover up for his police friends and never let the jury know, and to destroy the fingerprints.
 Allred's unique shoeprints (several) were dusted with fingerprint powder from my bedroom door he kicked in; but prosecution agents testified they were “inconclusive” as to a match. (Not a single item in this case was ever tested or forensically examined by the defense, though we paid the defense attorney many thousands of dollars to do this work).
 Two autopsy photos, finally accessed by a strange twist of fate, after being suppressed for 19 years, show the bullet hole in the attacker's back considerably larger than the same wound hole in the front of the body, proving the shot entered his front, not his back, as the prosecutor and defense attorney insisted to the jury. These were hidden from me during trial by my own attorney.
 My gun had reloaded, used junk target-shooting bullets, specifically of special low power, low impact, low stopping effect on an attacker – the opposite of what one would use if they had designs to kill someone. Worse, the coroner, prosecutor, criminalist, defense attorney, all straight out lied to the jury and judge, insisting that my bullets were standard, high-power .45 grain slugs, therefore fired in excess of defensive need, further proving murder.
 The garbage basket, a centerpiece of the crime scene, where Allred appeared to be stashing some of his weaponry and/or other vital evidence, after being shot, when the police entered the room with me to help the attacker, was removed, along with all its contents before police photos were taken of the scene. It simply vanished, to this day.
 The phone, covered with Allred's fingerprints in his blood, also exculpating in several ways, was deliberately kept to allow mold to grow all over it, to manipulate my attorney to stipulate to never bring it out of storage for fingerprinting, or trial use.
 The floor carpeting, rife with blood trails, pointing to my exoneration by several means, was torn out and destroyed. Carpet fibers in Allred's blood on his gun, and the carpet trails, would prove he dragged the gun in his hand across the floor, profusely, but all this was destroyed by the prosecution.
 The prosecutor and defense attorney lied to the jury and judge, assuring that Allred's blood was negative for all drugs. It wasn't even ever tested for most drugs, and we know from a doctor's appointment hours before the attack that he was issued experimental, highly controversial drugs for blood-borne diseases.
 A cassette tape recording of a police-state witness interview, the only witness claiming I had animosity toward Allred (she was their family friend), suddenly disappeared from the police evidence locker during trial when it was determined that it proved this testimony was perjury, coaxed by the prosecutor.
 A dated cash register receipt for an item of critical evidence, proved perjury by another state witness (a friend of Allred's family); therefore my own attorney suppressed this receipt, its contents and impeachment evidence.
 Thousands of pages of my authored book notes, drawings, diaries, business records, were seized with no warrant authority, including many exculpatory ones, taken and kept solely to prevent me from using them as evidence which disproved the prosecutor's fabricated case. Others were forged by the prosecutor, defense attorney and court clerk by judge's order right in front of my eyes, in the courtroom with the jury out, in order to match a false blanket stipulation my attorney had earlier made, which agreed to let the prosecutor tell the jury that my writings said whatever he proclaimed. They therefore had to be forged to match, before going to the jury as evidence, according to the judge.
 Photos now obtained, taken by police at the crime scene, prove perjury by four different Los Gatos Police officers on very critical issues of guilt.
 Essentially all crime scene evidence is proven to have been moved and tampered with, based on photos taken by the police themselves; which they swore under oath had not been touched or moved.
 All crime scene dimensions in diagrams critical of guilt or innocence determinations, were so grossly distorted as to scale, shapes, juxtaposition, relationships to everything, crucial distances, and a basic understanding of the attack and need for self defense, that a jury could not possibly have a clue as to what the real crime scene looked like and how that related to the reality of the events, and guilt or innocence.
This list could go on for many more pages. The other eighteen different major categories of trial errors and fraud could go on for many hundreds of pages, and all is interconnected: The complexity, deliberately contrived, has made the appeal and innocence petition process an impossible maze of convolution that required years to complete and, as further issues were being worked on, prison employees repeatedly destroyed years of the work already done, requiring starting over again and again, burning up two decades of my life. These evidence corruptions affected almost countless other issues, like lines of dominoes falling behind this one issue. For example, jury instructions necessary for acquittal could not be given to the jury because the absence of the hidden, destroyed, altered evidence didn't support there being given; not to mention my attorney not allowing me to testify the exculpatory truth, because that would have exposed evidence that was suppressed, altered and planted, which he sought to keep covered up to aid the prosecution. Other examples flourish.
Prison: The Nightmare Had Not Yet Begun – 21 Years of Torture Later, Still In Prison Twelve Years after Parole Date Passed
I have never been legally sentenced to prison – for 21 years. The judge refused to let me complete my motion for new trial before pronouncing judgment. California statutory law (Penal Code §1202) says that makes my judgment and sentence void; it doesn't legally exist. The courts have no regard for what any law says in this case. But, assuming my commitment to prison had been legal, my parole date was, nonetheless, March, 1992. Even if I had been actually guilty.
As punishment for having a physical disability, my imprisonment has been essentially converted into a unique nightmare that may have no end short of my death by actual prison-torture. MCS [Multiple Chemical Sensitivities] is now, finally, recognized as a physical, medical disability and reality. I've had a form of it since birth and, consequently, entered CDC (California Department of Corrections [sic]) with it, in the early 1980s. Then, most doctors didn't recognize that it was real, and thus began a terror campaign with thousands of malicious, false reports, and tens of thousands of special punishments that self-perpetuate forever. In CDC, Jacketing a prisoner with a charge of “manipulation of staff” is worse than any other crime in existence. My MCS adverse reactions to halogens (including fluoride and chlorine in public and prison drinking water and many foods), means that the only way I can drink water that's not specially filtered or distilled, and many foods likewise, is to become toxically ill and experience a dehydrating effect with every drink of this chemically-treated water. (This is not as ironic as it may seem, as fluoride is the ingredient used in DCon rat poison to bring about their agonizing death,' involving a dehydration process).
Sparked from my MCS condition which they labeled as “staff manipulation” (highest form of “troublemaker” and “danger to the public”), over 1500 named CDC employees would eventually jump on this bandwagon of sadistic hatred in a literal war of terror against one man, while I behaved consistently as a model prisoner. They simply invented a profile of the most extreme opposite, and affixed it to my name and prison number. More is regularly added in secret. This has kept me in the worst, most violent, oppressive prisons in the state for most of my imprisonment, and intensified gruesome tortures, that many prisoners of war have not been allowed to be subjected to.
Here are a few highlights these tax-paid “officers of the law” have achieved in this insanely sadistic war of terror, because I had a disability and, in the process of trying to get minimal, reasonable accommodations for it, inadvertently exposed their vicious cruelties and demented criminality.
I've been violently brutalized by guards, including acts such as trying to murder me by throwing me on my head off a high balcony and tearing my beard out by the roots in fingerfulls, while hysterically, maniacally laughing in ecstasy (1984-1995);
Been persistently set up by guards, by “counselors” and administrators to have other prisoners brutalize and murder me, giving the most violent, homicidal inmate “shotcallers” the “green light” to have me viciously “hit” (1992-2003);
They've destroyed my previously perfect hearing, one ear virtually deaf, and the other damaged worse with a rare hyperacousis condition, where certain pitches of normal sound strike my brain and nervous system so traumatically that it's akin to being hit in the head with a baseball bat and shocked in the heart with high voltage (1986-present, with continuous takings/destruction of my hearing aids);
My vision has been severely damaged by years of forced toxic ingestion, repeated head trauma and other abuses, almost certainly permanently (1983-present, continuously);
I have permanent spinal, pelvic and elbow damage from a car accident, when guards horse playing, smashed their “chase” car into the other car I was in. I was being transported to a hospital after almost having my arm amputated from an infection deliberately inflicted by these agents, including medical staff, whose prolonged denial of intervention exacerbated the condition to this degree (1994);
Near murders: Eleven times I have been starved, dehydrated and emaciated by cachexia to the point where it was doubtful my life could be pulled back and saved. 0n hundreds of other occasions and generally for 21 years, I've been kept in a state of chronic dehydration-torture as a daily norm (1983-present);
They've tortured me with bromine poisoning, used as a chemical nerve-toxin, pumped in our cell vents, (they admit this, supposedly to kill air duct bacteria). I've been laughed at while screaming in pain day and night in a locked cell for days on end, as they tried to force me to commit suicide, and I nearly did, to end the pain. This pain is greater than all others in my life combined, (except one, also inflicted by CDC staff); probably as painful as slow testicle crushing (2001-2003);
I've been shot twice (1998, 1999), while set up by CDC employees to be stabbed to death by inmates (these were block guns, but the old style that shot compact blocks that would split the meat of the body open, blind and kill);
I suffer extreme toxic reactions daily from chemical sensitivity to cleaners, deodorants, tobacco, smoke, chemical food and water additives, which I'm forced to breathe and ingest continuously day and night, unnecessarily (1983-2004);
In 2001 these agents set me up to be attacked by inmates, from which I have permanent brain damage, affecting my balance, memory, confusion, analytical and other intellectual and artistic processes, from being kicked and stomped in the head repeatedly. They were rewarded, and I was sent to the hole. They weren't. They were not prosecuted. I'm still trying to get a medical examination ordered years ago. It's now 2004;
I've had toxic boils repeatedly surgically cut out of me, where after these agents have repeatedly falsified the official medical documents to cover up this senseless horror (1980s, 1990s);
CDC agents have robbed me of my property over 75 times (usually grand theft), sometimes to the tune of thousands of dollars of items, and often irreplaceable items, such as my life works of music compositions, other art, and legal evidence proving my innocence (1983-2003);
I've had over 30 retaliatory, terrorizing, life-changing transfers all across the state; to continuously sabotage all my court actions and destroy my family, wife and little children, which they did, many years ago;
I've been denied any canteen/commissary for 20 years continuously, except once, as a penalty (punishment); for litigating against CDC while literally starving due to food allergies, and denied needed medications for years, available only via canteen. (This is unheard of as to any other prisoner in California prison history);
These rogue agents (all members of the CCPOA guards' Union that has owned the past few California governors), have sabotaged and blocked my court access for the past 21 years, destroying every court case I ever filed and, consequently, I am procedurally barred from using the courts due to my state of indigence which CDC keeps me in;
I presently suffer under a crushing “Central File” (my “profile”) of over 8000 pages, being illegally denied a full review of since 1987. Hence, the parole board and no one else can ever find the dozens of laudatory reports submitted by the few courageous, honest guards and administrators who have stuck their necks out to tell the truth about my continuing model prisoner conduct;
Similarly, my honest, favorable psych reports are now buried beneath a deluge of malicious, scurrilous ones, dishonestly penned as retaliation, to perpetually have parole denied. This, and drugging prisoners senseless with violence-inciting dope, has now become the CDC psych department's primary function and purpose.
All of these shocking crimes have been committed (and continue to be) by a literal street-gang of terrorists, a private army carrying on a personal war of horrors in their secret cities on American soil. This is at a cost of $millions for the sick, sadistic sport of twisted, depraved sociopaths imprudently deputized and trusted with badges, guns and misplaced authority, to carry on a personal war; in this instance, against one man. 
And yet what I have described is only a ripple in the skin of the tip of the iceberg of this worst form of death ever devised by demonically-driven men: Death By Imprisonment, USA style. Contemporary language has no words yet to define or describe what's going on in these places.
I have no desire to complain, but only to explain, as I hope I've somewhat achieved in this brief expose. To everyone who reads this and is touched by it, your involvement to stop this sickness and insane terror, is necessary and urgent. I don't mean for me, but for us all; for what is left of our country. For anyone who would be interested in writing me, who could perhaps offer some form of outreach, I welcome your correspondence, at:
PF Lazor C-73842
Mule Creek State Prison
P.O. Box 409000
Ione, CA 95640 (USA)
(Please do not send money to this address, as prison staff steal it all with no chance of recovery, ever.) Outside contact person and address, for those who prefer:
c/o Gayle Travis
P.O. Box 2994
San Ramon, CA 94583 (USA)
Tele: (925) 277-9665
Your support in whatever way possible, would be appreciated and welcomed. This could have been you. More than ever now, it still could be.
Mr. Lazor, while still in his 20s when incarcerated for life, was a patents-holding inventor, a composer of hundreds of beautiful songs and musical pieces, was a public figure, well known throughout the USA and somewhat internationally as an incomparable stage performer, singer, recording artist who was destined for the highest acclaim in the entertainment industry. He acted in minor and major motion picture films, held a national physical endurance competition record (which may still be unbroken); he founded and successfully operated several small businesses which served community needs, including an innovative organizing firm which was probably the first of its kind. He established others in their own businesses and presented his own training seminars in personal achievement and leadership. He learned sign language and worked to benefit the deaf community; he helped and visited the elderly, infirm and shut-ins, and raised money and food for starving populations. PF held licenses and special awards in piloting, skydiving, real estate, insurance and probably other career vocations.
As a public figure in entertainment and business, PF was known as “Happy The Clown” from the Detroit area, and as Buddy Holly, Jr., still performing his world famous Buddy Holly, Jr. Show until imprisoned. PF was college educated, but It meant little to him, as he was a self-starter and businessman long before his years in college began. By age 20, he was a hardback author of poetry and songs, self-published. When he was taken to prison and still in his 20s, PF was a finalist candidate to be the first private person (non-government sponsored) in history to enter outer space as an astronaut, for “Project Private Enterprise” founded by a retired NASA engineer. Like all else, PF lost all this by his senseless imprisonment. These things are topped by several notable instances of PF saving the lives of others in situations of danger, by putting his own safety at risk.
PF was also born a life & death case, struggling to stay alive, seasonally, until age 8, then still deathly ill during periods throughout every year of his life until the year before he was taken away to prison, when the cause and cure of his devastating Illness was discovered and finally remedied. He's had one year of life free from these conditions; imprisoned in his 20s, now in his 50s.