Update on “A Case for Bioulogies”

Ana Toledo
7 min readApr 27, 2022

Almost two years ago, I wrote on this platform “A case for Bioulogies”. In that post, I proposed that people should try to honor living people with bioulogies -telling them the beautiful words that many save for eulogies.

During 2021, I was pleasantly surprised with what I now know were well-intended bioulogies. Before telling you about the three that stand out as clear examples of a bioulogy, it’s important to note that the people honoring me with them did so deliberately.

Unbeknownst to me until last year, for two decades I had been a targeted individual. I now realize that before unleashing the full force of their vengeance against me that would undoubtedly have me take my own life, my tormentors had the courtesy of sending some good vibes my way. To wit: send random people to tell me stories about my good qualities before what they knew was an impending, inescapable death I could not foresee.

Having survived my perpetraitors’ evil and psychopathic attacks and struggling on a daily basis to get back on my feet again, I’ve been able to connect many dots as to how their deliberate plan to obliterate me was carried out.

That’s when I realized that the seemingly unrelated encounters that I describe here weren’t random acts of kindness. Rather, they were deliberate bioulogies delivered as part of the meticulous plan to annihilate me.

Act I

The first of the bioulogies I’ve been able to recognize was that of a young man at the Cerro Gordo Beach in Vega Alta. He was with a friend, and the three of us leisurely chatted while enjoying the ocean during the strict lockdowns during which no one was supposed to be at the beach.

We were three of about only 10 people that courageously defied the Executive Orders that (illegally) entailed criminal penalties.

This made in and of itself the ‘happenstance’ meeting more unlikely. Yet at the end of the day, I deemed it the product of the universe’s synchronicity to make nice things happen.

Right in the beginning of our conversation, the young man mentioned he was from a beach area in the town of Barceloneta. I am thoroughly acquainted with since for 11 years since 1998, I litigated a class action lawsuit on behalf of the environmental justice community he said he was from.

The plight of over 3,000 people subjected every day to the noxious stench emanating from a regional wastewater treatment plant receiving the huge pharmaceutical plants’ wastewater, made me passionately fight for their right to breathe clean air.

The indignation brought about the expensive suits’ arguments asserting that the bad smells “came from the wetlands” and that plaintiffs were making up their complaints served to fuel

my perseverance and determination to prevail.

Pursuant to the USEPA’s Toxic Release Inventory records, that plant received up to 3 million gallons of hazardous air pollutants every year. At its peak, that amount had exceeded 11 million gallons per year.

Eleven multinational pharmaceutical companies were included as defendants, as well as the corporate entity that ‘owns’ the plant and the local water and sewage authority.

I passionately fought to eradicate the stench from that plant that disgraced every aspect of my clients’ lives. After ten years of litigation, a settlement was reached. Defendants agreed to implement improvements to the plant’s infrastructure and operation to eradicate the stench.

Today, only an occasional mercaptan scent can be detected.

Last year I discovered that unbeknownst to me, since around 1998 I had become a targeted individual.

That day at the beach was the first time after the case’s conclusion in 2009 that I had had any contact with former client in that case.

When I told the young man that I had been one of the attorneys in that case, he enthusiastically told the story of how he was able to buy his first car with the money he obtained from the settlement in the case. And for that, he thanked me.

I was elated. Whether his story was true or not, I don’t care. When I occasionally drive past that community, I know deep in my heart that I improved the lives of many.

And that is enough for me to feel happy.

Act II

Also during the COVID lockdown in Puerto Rico that practically stretched until January, 2022, I experienced two other bioulogies in anticipation of the demise I could’ve never fathomed.

The second one relates to a former employee’s seemingly honest homage expressing gratitude for the contributions I had made to her life.

Disgruntled with what the practice of law had become, in 2007 I had opened a restaurant. I envisioned its concept gave way for it to become a successful franchise. Zesty Bites was ahead of its time, serving healthy foods ranging from raw and living foods to non-vegetarian fares based only on white meat. We even served wheatgrass shots and focused on educating about the benefits of raw foods.

One of the best employees I had in my restaurant was the woman that delivered a memorable second bioulogy. We ‘casually’ bumped into each other at a local underground bar defying the strict lockdown rules. Out of nowhere, she explained her immense gratitude towards me. While working for me — she said — she had acquired valuable tools for life. From manners at the table to setting it properly, she seemed genuine in her gratitude towards me.

I was flattered and happy to know that, for the first time in 15 years since I closed my restaurant, she took the time to thank me for contributing to her life. It didn’t faze me that although we had frequently bumped into each other in the neighborhood we lived in, she had never brought it up.

Once again, I was thrilled to have made a positive difference in someone else’s life. I attributed the COVID lockdowns for such unprecedented displays of kindness from random people.

Act 3

In November of 2020, a cousin of mine on my father’s side called to say she was coming to town for some business and that she would like to have dinner with me.

Coincidentally, the last time I’d seen her had been on the day my father died in 2015. Recognizing he was close to dying, my sister had come to visit to spend some time with him. While we were at my father’s house, my cousin arrived to see him.

My father was one of her most admired and beloved persons in the world for my cousin. She was sweet and showered my dad with an ultimate display of tenderness she would ever be able to give him again.

That night, at exactly 10:00 pm as I had just sat down to have a drink with a dear friend I hadn’t seen in years, my dad’s caretaker called to say that he had passed.

My cousin had come to see her favorite uncle just in time to say goodbye. It’s at it seemed he couldn’t die until she got to say goodbye.

I didn’t think anything on the fact that although I’ve always been fond of her, she had never called me on the multiple visits she made to the island every year.

During dinner, she told me a story of how over 10 years ago she had worked alongside an attorney from Puerto Rico in a case. She told me how the attorney — now a federal judge — had such a high regard of me as I had diligently worked in an estate matter involving his family.

Once more, I didn’t give any thought to her unusual invitation to meet nor why she’d waited so many years to tell me a story about the respect I could have earned from a colleague years ago.

Six months after the third of the bioulogies that my cousin delivered, in May, 2021, gang-stalking and merciless attacks to my honor, my social, financial, professional, and family life geared at destroying me intensified. It wasn’t until July, 2021 that I came to realize that since 1999 I had become a targeted individual.

Months after these bioulogies, I sustained the most ruthless abuses and abject deprivations of civil and human rights a person can withstand. Despite having miraculously survived, every day I struggle with the constant torture and tormenting my perpetraitors insist on inflicting upon me.

Looking back at the perfect storm that hit me, I’ve recently been able to connect the dots on the evolution of my enemies’ plan to destroy me.

One of the dots entails the unexpected bioulogies I described above. The bioulogies were part of an almost perfect plan to annihilate me. Relying on unlimited power and resources, my tormentors concocted and carried out brutal strategies from which no one could’ve escaped.

Designing their psychological operation, they read through my medium posts to get thoroughly acquainted with my personality and feelings as to not miss a detail in their nefarious plan. From there that my perpetraitors got the idea of granting me a few morsels of happiness before doing away with my life.

Even assuming, arguendo, that the three persons that honored me with their bioulogies knew and chose not to warn me of the full spectrum of what my enemies had in store for me, I forgive every one of them.

I’m grateful to them for granting me the opportunity to know that I had made a difference in their lives.

Kindness is kindness regardless of the place where it comes from.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

I can only be honestly forgiving to them, because unlike people that I deemed to be truly close to me, they had the compassion to spread some love before my tragic demise. None of my ‘closest friends’, family and colleagues that collaborated, covered up for and/or sold out to my perpetrators, didn’t bother to honor the unconditionally loyal, loving and generous person I had been to them.

During this challenging trajectory, I’ve learned that most of the events and relationships in my life for the past 20 years were not real or spontaneous, as they were either orchestrated or sabotaged by my perpetrators.

However, these three persons that delivering their homage through their bioulogies give me hope. The hope that derives from knowing that despite my perpetraitors’ control of most of my social life and professional interactions, I did experience beautiful, genuine moments stemming from my unflinching desire to help others; my unselfish proclivity to give the best of me, and my lifelong commitment to make this a better world.

And no one can take that away from me.




Ana Toledo

Puerto Rican warrior & targeted individual; fighting for equal environmental rights, one pipe at a time”. “Mi nada, a nadie se lo debo.” Julia de Burgos.