Scam Week observed by many

As a seasoned journalist committed to serving the informational needs of our region, I communicate with more than 100 people per week. Occasionally, those communications cause me to lean back in my chair, tent my fingers reflectively, look at the ceiling and think to myself, "What is this person on?"

Apparently, Oct. 20-26 was International Scam Week, because that was the topic of the bizarre phone calls and e-mails I received those seven days.

We've done countless stories and editorials on scams, but apparently they aren't working. Otherwise, Southeast Missouri wouldn't continue to be peppered with scam e-mails.

One woman received this time-tested favorite last week: a request from Nigeria to share $16 million by giving out her bank account information. She wrote: "Thinking that this was a money-laundering scheme, or worse a scheme to somehow fund terrorists, I immediately contacted the FBI by phone. They never got back to me. So I faxed the information to them. After not hearing anything again, I called the FBI and asked if they had received the fax. They said yes. That was it, just yes."

If all these e-mails from Nigeria, Zimbabwe and Sierra Leone were true, the continent of Africa would be one giant combination safe covered with displaced royals punching each other in the face in an effort to be first to share their money with Americans.

I got a scam e-mail like that myself last week. Alieu Sessay of Sierra Leone needed access to my bank account so he could share his late father's $10.5 million with me. I figured I'd scare Mr. Sessay off for sure.

"I have vowed a life of poverty and can't have anything to do with vast amounts of cash," I wrote. "However, I am looking for pen-pals from other countries. Do you have a girlfriend?"

He e-mailed back to say he was single, but I let it drop. I'm married, and anyway, that relationship would be too complicated. I'm American, he's Sierra Leonean, I'm a writer, he's a thieving jerk who robs gullible ladies ... .

Another such e-mail arrived last week from Mrs. Sandra Anita Shores of Zimbabwe. Get it? Sandy Shores!

Next topic: E-mails asking you to forward them and get free money. Friends, before you blight my personal inbox with any more of this stuff, ask yourself: "In the years I've been forwarding these to 10 friends within 10 minutes, has Bill Gates ever once called me about sharing his fortune?" I'm sure you'll find he hasn't.

Even more abominable are the chain letters asking you to forward them to help a sick child, such as Craig Sheppard, who allegedly is a 7-year-old suffering with a brain tumor and wants your business cards. He's actually Craig Shergold, a healthy college student who met his goal of collecting a record number of greeting cards --not business cards -- back in 1990. Check it out on www.wish.org.

I've saved the best for last: I heard from a man who received a $20 psychic reading and then went back and gave the psychic another $210 for a more detailed reading "because I could 'smell' fraud," he wrote. Hey, nothing crushes fraud like giving the perpetrator a couple hundred bucks.

Fortunately, when the psychic asked for $6,720 to bury in the ground to remove a curse, the man wisely offered her a money order. Her response was: "The spirits need cash as proof of your commitment to remove all evil."

Don't 'the spirits' sound a little bit like a materialistic girlfriend? "But, Baby, I need the cash so you can prove that you're really committed to me!"

The man didn't give up any more cash.

Here's the point: Nobody wants to give you money. Nobody needs some of your money to give you money.

That is, except me. Please send as much money as you can right away. I'll remove a curse or something.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.