The man who knew too much? The truth about the death of Hillary close friend Vince Foster

On a Monday night in July 1993, a 48-year-old lawyer called Vince Foster was found dead in a park near Washington DC.

He had died from a gunshot wound to the mouth and his father's .38-calibre revolver, dating from 1913, was at his side.

It was the same method of suicide used by a Marine officer in the film A Few Good Men - which Foster was known recently to have watched.

In the movie, the officer had killed himself because he was distraught about testifying against his commanding officer.

In real life, Vince Foster was distraught at the prospect of being grilled about the shady affairs of Hillary Clinton.

A clear case of suicide, then. Or was it? As the months passed, wild rumours began to grow that a hitman had murdered him because he knew too much.

Tall and handsome, Vince Foster was one of Hillary's closest colleagues and best friends.

In Little Rock, Arkansas, they were partners in a law firm while Bill Clinton was governor of the state. And, naturally, when the Clintons moved to the White House, Vince Foster came, too.

I’ll never forget a patient I had once in residency.

Young 15 year old or so boy and ER sheet said “GSW head”.

Sitting up on stretcher looking at me and talking to me.

Had been shot with .22 or .25.

Physical exam - hole between eyebrows.

Skull film and Angio - Slug lodged in sphenoid sinus literally millimeters from both ICA’s and the basilar artery.

Seems unlikely but I saw it with my own eyes.

Within a week of seeing that guy, I saw a man that tried the same thing using a 357 mag. He flinched, took out his entire right orbit, sat there talking to us with his frontal lobe exposed. Creepy.

The beginning of the same month, I took over the care of a young man who had been shot through and through the left hemisphere with a 9mm. I was told don’t worry about this guy, you won’t have anything to do, the organ team is waiting for him. 4 weeks later when I was about to rotate out of the Trauma center, he was still a patient of mine. One day, I read in the nurses note that he was wanting to know when his family was coming back to see him. I assumed that the nurse has written on the wrong chart. When I asked her about it, she said no, he talks. I asked her to show me, she walked up to him and covered his trach and asked him to say something. He opened his eyes and asked her what she wanted him to say. He could also move all of his extremities and was neurologically pretty good. Now you have to understand, I was in that guys room every day. I turned him over, pushed on his belly, listened to his lungs, I even checked his foley every day, he never said a word to me, he never even moved. The last thing I did there was fill out his rehab transfer.

In all, I saw three guys shot in the head that month, and as far as I know, all three of them walked out of the hospital.

I don’t recall any other miraculous GSW to head survivors - just that one.

But for some reason back around that time I still remember my all time highest Blood alcohol level.

It was a guy who had a .55 blood alcohol. He was lying face up on a stretcher. All he did was - and he did this about once every 10 seconds - he would spit straight up in the air and the spit would fall down right straight back down. And he just kept doing this.

Never forgot that. Sort of takes drunk and stupid to a whole other level.

Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.