High Mileage Dreams
A Brief History of Allen Caggiano and His FIVS
by Joseph Danison
There’s one point something billion people in China, they work for peanuts, they don’t have unions, and they don’t complain. Al was there in the spring of 2005. They treated him like a celebrity because the word was out that he was an American bringing jobs. If there’s just one thing the Chinese love more than American jobs it would be noodles. Being treated so well was quite a shock for an Italian guy from Massachusetts who never much liked Chinese food to begin with. It was a country ruled by a communist dictatorship, sure, but it didn’t seem half bad! A little crowded maybe, but friendly.
He was traveling with Kenny DeRosa, his business partner and friend. When Al tried to go public with his FIVS in the ‘80's, he fell down a rabbit hole and before he finally got out he lost everything, except the FIVS and Kenny DeRosa. They were in Guangdong province to meet up with Neville Solomon and the Chinese investor, Kevin Ng. Neville was another guy who fell into a hole. His hole was so deep that he came out in China.
Al had tried to warn Neville in 2004 when he was so excited about building the FIVS. Neville Solomon was a native South African from Johannesburg living happily in the US as a bone fide permanent resident with his American wife and seven children. He was a bright-eyed Republican conservative and a Christian minister at that time. Al was down for the count when Neville met him. The Big Boys thought they had finally beaten him. He would never sell them the rights to his Fuel Implosion Vaporization System. He had thumbed his nose at their deals from the beginning. He had kissed off millions of dollars! They took everything but his integrity.
Then they got rough, really rough. His bank was broken by 2004, and his body was broken, too, but he had one last play to make. He published the secret design of the FIVS on his website so that anyone could now build it and the Big Boys would never get control of it. That’s how desperate he was. He gave it all up, his dream of wealth and success, his exclusive rights to his own invention, just so the FIVS would get out there, just so he could have the satisfaction of bringing down the Big Boys and their fucking monopoly.
When Neville first talked to Al that spring of ‘04, he had no idea what he was in for. He
had seen Al’s website and decided he would build Al’s FIVS himself and become obscenely rich! Al tried to warn him that the FIVS had become a mission and was definitely not a get rich quick scheme. But Neville wouldn’t listen. He thought Al was paranoid. The US is a free country and stuff like that just doesn’t happen here. And he went chasing after the dollar signs until his adopted country kicked him out on his ass and he found himself in China.
Al could only shake his head during his first conversations with Neville. He would never listened to warnings, either, when the ambition to build a high mileage device took him over way back in the 70's. From that first Eureka! moment in the shop of Debal Heating & Cooling in 1973, the die was cast. Allen Caggiano, proprietor, was going to create a high mileage device that would cut automobile fuel consumption dramatically and make the US energy independent. The Arabs had cut off the Middle East oil supply and the American economy was going into a tailspin. While working on a new evaporation coil for an air conditioning system he was designing, Al discovered the principle of fuel vaporization. Not a new idea, but new to him. In a flash, he saw how he could miniaturize the coil and adapt it for a car. Vaporized fuel would burn more efficiently, reducing both consumption and pollution.
If he had stopped at that point to reflect, his life would have continued along a normal trajectory. He was doing very well in his business. Debbie, the “Deb” in Debal, kept the books, and could see that she’d chosen a winner. He was a little crazy and unpredictable at times. Did that have something to do with epilepsy? There was a flaw in the wiring of his brain and if he didn’t take medication, he’d have a fit. Very scary! He didn’t get along with his father and she didn’t blame him. The old man was a very hard nut. Al had more demons to fight than most. He drove himself relentlessly, though, and never wasted a minute feeling sorry for himself. He was the most creative man she’d ever known and a loving father to their five children. She would complain at times that she didn’t really know him. She gave up trying to control him. He sometimes frightened her. But it was a good kind of fear, the kind Catholic girls feel before they go off like fire crackers in bed.
Al didn’t look into the history of high mileage carburetors and there wasn’t much written on the subject in any case. There was no internet in those days. He didn’t pay attention to talk of how the auto companies didn’t want good mileage, how they actually suppressed super carburetors. If some one had developed a device that actually worked, giving high mileage and good power, well then, the auto makers would use it because the consumers would stand in line to buy it. Jimmy Carter was talking energy independence. With 40% of the oil going to cars, the solution was obvious. He’d be the one to make it possible, the American hero! And billionaire. He was sure no one had been able to build one that really worked. He would. He was Allen Caggiano, the one and only. He had no time for cry babies.
The first device he came up with was the FIVS Gen I. Phenomenal results on the first test run, 113 mpg! Then it blew up. Back to the drawing board. The FIVS Gen II performed reliably, giving equally fantastic results. Al began putting ads in the newspapers, looking for investors. An offer came in from a corporation in California to buy all rights for several million dollars. That was just chicken feed, Al believed, compared to the potential. He had his lawyer friend check out the company. It was a subsidiary of a subsidiary all owned by an oil company. Thanks, but no thanks! Deb was still on board at this point, though she began to get worried when the FBI came around. They told Al his vehicle violated the law and he should cease and desist.
Technically, they were right. It was against the law to alter a carburetor or remove the catalytic converter, which Al had done. Federal EPA regulations. But Al couldn’t take this more seriously than a mattress tag warning. The Gen II allowed the engine to burn fuel much more efficiently so that it also dramatically reduced emissions. A Gen II vehicle without a catalytic converter would be less polluting than a carbureted or fuel injected car using one! If the Feds wanted a fight, he’d give them one. He never backed down. He had the tenacity of a pit bull. Deb was biting her nails.
Two FBI agents showed up weeks later. One talked to Al to distract him while the other hopped into his Gen II modified Dodge station wagon and drove away. He never saw that car again. The FBI denied any knowledge of the incident. Al was outraged. He was beginning to see the writing on the wall. He advised Deb to stop worrying. He got another Dodge and installed a new Gen II. He painted the car a bright yellow and on the sides he wrote in bold black letters: “This car gets over 100 MPG and doesn’t pollute the air. The Big Boys are trying to make me and this car disappear. Help me!”
A few weeks later, brown manila envelopes began to arrive in the mail box. Inside were 8x10 photos of the kids getting off the school bus, Deb at the supermarket, and so on. Deb was paralyzed with fear. Al was angry that she would cave into their dirty tricks. She thought he might be going off the deep end this time and demanded that he give up the FIVS. She warned him that it was going to be a choice between her and his invention. Why would he be so stubborn? Why did they need to be billionaires and make the US energy independent? Al was an immovable object. The marriage was over.
Without Deb and the children, he felt like the one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. But he was burning with anger. The bastards would not get away with this! His faith in the basic fairness of the American game was taking a serious hit. There was more going on than EPA regulations. The bastards didn’t really care about air pollution. They didn’t want high mileage cars. It was that simple. They wanted to sell as much oil as possible. The government got a nice cut of every gallon in taxes, so they were in on it, too. The Oil companies didn’t want energy independence for the US because they were profiting from Middle Eastern oil. Jimmy Carter and his energy independence campaign went down in flames while the scum bags made secret deals with Saddam Hussein, the Saudis, and even the Ayatollah Khomeini. The biggest of these scum bags bore the name of Bush.
Al was mano a mano with the oil companies and their government cronies. They were afraid of the FIVS. They had a good thing going and before they let him rock the boat, they’d crush him like a bug. He was frightened, maybe for the first time in his life, truly frightened, but he didn’t back down. He could have raised the white flag at any time, sold the rights to his FIVS, and gone back to a rich and comfortable life.
Instead, he went to prison. First he was set up on a drug charge. Local police planted cocaine in the condo he now called home. He was convicted and sent to state prison. But he knew the Brockton police chief was crooked. He knew that he stole cocaine from the evidence locker and he knew how he could prove it.. He escaped. He fashioned a key out of wood in the prison shop and simply let himself out. It was big local news with helicopters in the air and dogs on the ground. Al knew the woods because he’d hunted them all his life and they didn’t catch him before he got the job done. He contacted his friend on the Brockton force and then turned himself in on the same day he’d escaped.
The Brockton police chief was indicted, convicted, and sent to prison himself. State charges against Al were dropped. Nearly 400 convictions were over turned as a result of Al’s bold move, news that cheered the inmates in all the lock ups in the region and made him something of a hero. It was good that Al could have such popularity in the prison population because he was soon to join it again when a federal prosecutor stepped in and indicted him on federal charges. Al was convicted and sentenced to 30 years in federal prison on various manufactured charges related to the state charges that had been dismissed. His appeal was never heard. After ten years, he was suddenly released in 1997. Today, no record exists of his federal conviction and incarceration. Those who had stolen ten of his most productive adult years from age 43 to 53 erased the evidence that they had done so.
But if the Big Boys thought the prison experience would break his spirit and stop the FIVS, they were very wrong. He was bounced around from one federal institution to another. In one of them Al collaborated with the warden of facilities to produce Gen II’s in the prison shop and sell them outside. In others he learned computer technology. He acquired valuable contacts and applied for and was awarded patent #5,782,225 for the Gen II.
The Gen II, as with most fuel vaporization devices, requires serious modification of a vehicle’s OEM systems. Federal EPA regulations effectively block vaporization systems from coming in to use. In prison, Al dreamed up the next generation of the FIVS, the Gen III, an entirely new device that does not violate any existing regulations. The Gen III is not a vaporization device although fuel is vaporized as part of its operation. The Gen III is a mini onboard fuel refinery.
In his cell at night, Al would dream the plans and specifications for the new Gen III and while still asleep he would get up and sleep-draw at the writing table. In the morning, Al saw the drawings on the table and thought it was the work of his cell mate. He didn’t believe he had done it because he didn’t understand the device or why it should work. Magnets were called for and an electroplated platinum coating on the interior of the cannister and special aluminum alloy and so on. He had a very strong feeling that some kind of strange intelligence was trying to help him. It was scary if he thought about it too much. He wondered if he might be going crazy, for real. Deb used to say he was crazy, and the truth was he’d always felt a little crazy his whole life, but this was something different, not like anything he’d ever done before. Still, he felt great, and he was determined to build this Gen III . With the help of the warden of facilities who had profited handsomely from the Gen II, he built the first Gen III prototype in the prison shop.
When the prison system spit him out unexpectedly in 1997 he focused his resources and eventually started a new operation called the FIVS Gen III International. Older, wiser, and empowered by a new sense of some kind of supernatural support, he was ready to take another run at the Big Boys. Prison had turned him into a political animal. It wasn’t just high mileage and big bucks he was after now. He wanted to bring the oil companies down in a big way.. He wanted to pry loose the hands of the energy monopoly from the throat of the American consumer. The FIVS could reduce US demand for oil by roughly half if it were retrofitted on American vehicles. That just might do it.
The Gen III delivered 138 MPG on a late model vehicle. He still didn’t know why it worked. He simply followed the specs that he was given in his dreams. Ordinary gasoline went in one end and a new type of liquid fuel came out the other that didn’t even smell like gasoline. He put up a website- www.get113to138mpg.com- in 2002 and launched on his maiden voyage. There was strong interest from those wanting to take part in a beta testing program. Al selected a small group of 137 from North America and around the world. The website was getting megahits every day.
The operation was decentralized. Through prison contacts he arranged to manufacture the cannister in the Ukraine where the Big Boys couldn’t find the factory. The magnets were bought from China. It would be assembled in Mexico and sold in 40 countries around the world. At the same time he gave away free plans for the Gen II so that people all over the country could build their own. He figured that would keep the Feds so busy they wouldn’t have time to deal with the Gen III.
But they found the time and the gloves were off. When Al drove his Gen III modified ‘74 Pontiac Catalina down to Mexico to oversee assembly, an 18-wheeler stalked him and drove him off the road as he was coming back into Massachusetts. The Pontiac rolled over several times, landing on its feet. The roof and doors were bashed in, the car was a wreck, but Al was able to drive it home. He suffered a punctured lung, broken ribs, and had to be cut out of the car with a torch. They then confiscated the UPS domestic shipments and disappeared the tracking numbers so that no North American beta tester received a FIVS, creating a small group of 44 dissatisfied individuals in the US and Canada. If you didn’t get yours, did it ever really exist?
But the worst was the tiny hairline stress crack that he noticed in a FIVS unit that had been in use for thousands of miles. That stopped the testing program more effectively than the shady saboteurs and assassins. He had to immediately issue a recall notice to all those in other countries who had received their FIVS. There were 93 of these out there. Al was determined to fix them all. Once his injuries were healed sufficiently, he came up with a quick and easy solution that he called the Gen IIIa. He drove himself mercilessly.
The attempt on his life and the sabotage of the UPS shipments sent a message to Al’s associates and investors. They faded away. FIVS Gen III International was badly wounded. The money was evaporating. At the same time, a mysterious individual calling himself “David Rodale”, who was not a member of the testing program, appeared at the Yahoo website with a new Yahoo group called “get113to138mpgNot”. Rodale began to attract the attention of those in North America who had not received their FIVS, that tiny group of 44 individuals. He wore a white hat. He accused Al of being a fraud and encouraged the disappointed to take legal action and rid America of an unscrupulous con man. 20 of the 44 eventually agreed to file suit. Al spent many hours of e-mail countering the slanders of “David Rodale” and trying to explain the situation. His secretary was gone. It was too much for one man.
Then it came time for his annual physical check up in 2003. An aneurism in his stomach had been identified many years earlier. Doctors had said it posed no danger, but they liked to keep an eye on it. He had suffered migraines during his life, which had been cured by using a drug that eventually damaged his pancreas. This induced diabetes, but the diabetes was not serious and the condition seemed to be gradually correcting itself. The broken ribs and punctured lung had healed. He was stressed and on the point of physical exhaustion. He walked into the hospital, expecting to spend an hour or so, and when he finally came out again, it was three months later, in a wheel chair.
Some one among the examining physicians pronounced the aneurism to be an immediate danger and Al was taken post haste to the OR for surgery. Who would argue under the circumstances? Al’s heart stopped three times during the operation. He recalls seeing himself on the operating table, feeling no pain, with a nurse bent forward over him, pushing on his chest, and a lot of commotion all around. Her dress was hiked up and he casually noticed she was wearing blue panties.
Then he was somewhere completely unfamiliar and a strange man appeared to him, a man with swarthy skin like an Arab, and kinky hair gone grey like an old African. He had striking blue eyes. He radiated tremendous warmth, love, and peace, and Al thought that the man must be Jesus. The man told him that he couldn’t stay. He had to go back. Al didn’t want to go back, he definitely didn’t want to go back. The man said he had to complete his mission, he had to go and cut down the tree. When he got that done, he could come back again. Al sat up abruptly. He was resting on a gurney, not an operating table, and he was in a body bag. The orderly who had been trying to zip up the bag was screaming and running down the hall.
He didn’t fully return for 30 days. He lay in the ICU in a coma and it was only the intervention of his daughter that prevented the hospital from pulling his plug. He had been clinically dead for so long that the doctors had no hope. But he did. He finally returned.
He met the OR nurse again while he recuperated. She confirmed that she wore blue panties that day when she was trying to resuscitate him, blue panties trimmed with lace. So, it had really happened, and Jesus had really happened, too! But he didn’t tell her the Jesus part. He kept that to himself and watched television as the days dragged by, feeling no particular desire to do anything until one afternoon on the news he saw a SWAT team entering a building that looked very much like his condo. The news caster was reporting that Allen Caggiano had defrauded the public with a phoney high mileage device and fled the country with his ill- gotten gains. Police had warrants to seize his property. The camera showed the Pontiac being towed away, the one he had found to replace the wrecked one. It was definitely his. There was no other yellow Pontiac Catalina with bold lettering on the sides! His blood began to boil. There were 3 Gen IIIa’s in the trunk, all he had!
Back in his condo, which was now stripped of all things that might relate to the FIVS, including hard drives from his computers, he required nursing care around the clock. He had no feeling from the waste down and could not walk. But sensation was slowly returning and he was determined to walk again. The kinky-haired Jesus had clarified his thinking and he began to believe that he could not die until he had accomplished his mission. Jesus would see to that. What the hell else could they do to him now, anyway? He started to plan a new website.
But the Big Boys still had some dirty tricks in their bag.. He began to relapse into a comatose state, inexplicably, and have to be rushed to the hospital. On the third occasion, the night nurse happened to notice that insulin pills were being included in his pill caddy. Since his release from the hospital he had been taking insulin by injection. The old prescription of insulin pills left in the medicine cabinet should not have been put in his pill caddy. He was being overdosed on insulin. The shift nurse responsible did not return. She disappeared. The Home Nursing Association which contracted for Al’s care had no record of her.
Later, it was also learned that the operation had been completely unnecessary. The x-rays had not been read correctly
On his new website, Al announced: “Hey guys, I’m back! Can’t kill me! I don’t stay dead!” True enough! He was giving it all away now in the hope that the American people would carry on the fight. Lots of interested people called and e-mailed and Al spent his time on the phone answering questions, giving advice. He had to earn some money from his wheel chair, so he started brokering mortgages online and did so well that he later set up his own mortgage business with his youngest son in California.
Until Neville Solomon called in early 2004, Al had not spoken with anyone who was such a quick study. He believed he’d found a man he could trust. The INS showed up one day in March of 2005, clapped Neville in irons, treated him abusively, and killed his American dream on the spot. Who cared if he had an American wife and seven children? Mere collateral damage. He was held at an INS detention center where he met Kevin Ng, a wealthy Chinese business man from New Orleans who was caught up in the big net of the Patriot Act.
Kevin believed Neville’s story. Being a Christian evangelist, Neville has the gift of persuasion, which proved to be his own salvation at this low point in his life.As a citizen of Communist China with intimate experience of the lawless power of government, Kevin was not disillusioned,unlike Neville, just pissed off. He told Neville that if the US was so stupid, he should come to China and they would build the FIVS there. By summer, Neville was living as a guest of his generous host,Kevin Ng, in Fujian, in Guangdong province. Then Al showed up with Kenny. The FIVS had gone to China to be born again when Al sat down to make some design changes. With a few suggestions from Neville, Al developed the Gen IV to resolve Gen IIIa issues and reduce its size, among other things. It became a substantially different device.
With no interference from the Big Boys, China felt like a free country. The Party encourages development. The Party is the supreme monopoly and the greates special interest group. It regulates the market to suit its own needs. The Party’s interests are best served by an open and competitive market. Ironically, the Chinese market has fewer inhibitions than the US, where the Big Boys squelch competition. Al was exuberant. He was walking more easily now without crutches. There was Kevin Ng’s capital, ready industrial space, and a hungry population of skilled workers who welcomed them as heroes. What could stop the FIVS now?
A hurricane thousands of miles away in the Gulf of Mexico.
Kevin Ng’s wealth was US based in an import business and two very successful restaurants in New Orleans. Katrina came ashore and smashed many dreams in the Big Easy. No doubt the Big Boys smiled. Things tend to go their way. Kevin Ng was suddenly at the point of bankruptcy. Neville was never able to test the prototypes of Al's new design in China. He urgently needed to support his wife and children who had arrived in China before Katrina hit. He went to work building a biodiesel facility and shipped the Gen IV prototypes back to Al in Massachusetts. Gone to China. Back again.
America has been the world’s greatest engine of technological innovation for generations and that innovation begins in the little engine that could, the creative imagination of a single individual. The wealth and power of the Big Boys who create nothing themselves would not exist without that little individual. He or she is the goose that lays the golden egg and if they can’t own her, they want to kill her. Strange. They are also killing democracy.
Al says that if the Big Boys don’t let him produce his FIVS here, then he will take his Gen IV back to China and let the Red Army build it. Energy efficiency creates energy abundance. Energy scarcity is all that prevents China from overwhelming the US economy.
America is losing its technological edge, except in the area of military hardware, the technology of destruction, which the Big Boys are using to shoot themselves in the foot through their lust for war and global power. They are truly crazy. No doubt about it. Their stranglehold on energy production will be broken. The American people will not continue to be held hostage to their clever monopolies, dirty tricks, and lies. The American dream is dying for lack of clean air, water, cheap and non-polluting transport, and the freedom to innovate in a truly free market place. The time has come for the huddled masses of Americans to wake up and cut down this massive, old and ugly tree in which the Big Boys are perched, like vultures. It’s blocking the view of the future.
January 29, 2006, www.renovationpress.com © Joseph Danison