This story has been appended to include a statement from Dorian Nakamoto received on March 19th when Newsweek was first contacted directly by Mr. Nakamoto's attorney, denying his role in Bitcoin.
Satoshi Nakamoto stands at the end of his sunbaked driveway looking timorous. And annoyed.
He's wearing a rumpled T-shirt, old blue jeans and white gym socks,
without shoes, like he has left the house in a hurry. His hair is
unkempt, and he has the thousand-mile stare of someone who has gone
weeks without sleep.
He stands not with defiance, but with the slackness of a person who has waged battle for a long time and now faces a grave loss.
Two police officers from the Temple City, Calif., sheriff's
department flank him, looking puzzled. "So, what is it you want to ask
this man about?" one of them asks me. "He thinks if he talks to you he's
going to get into trouble."
"I don't think he's in any trouble," I say. "I would like to ask him about Bitcoin. This man is Satoshi Nakamoto."
"What?" The police officer balks. "This is the guy who created Bitcoin? It looks like he's living a pretty humble life."
I'd come here to try to find out more about Nakamoto and his humble
life. It seemed ludicrous that the man credited with inventing Bitcoin -
the world's most wildly successful digital currency, with transactions
of nearly $500 million a day at its peak - would retreat to Los
Angeles's San Gabriel foothills, hole up in the family home and leave
his estimated $400 million of Bitcoin riches untouched. It seemed
similarly implausible that Nakamoto's first response to my knocking at
his door would be to call the cops. Now face to face, with two police
officers as witnesses, Nakamoto's responses to my questions about
Bitcoin were careful but revealing.
Tacitly acknowledging his role in the Bitcoin project, he looks down,
staring at the pavement and categorically refuses to answer questions.
"I am no longer involved in that and I cannot discuss it," he says,
dismissing all further queries with a swat of his left hand. "It's been
turned over to other people. They are in charge of it now. I no longer
have any connection."
Nakamoto refused to say any more, and the police made it clear our conversation was over.
But a two-month investigation and interviews with those closest to
Nakamoto and the developers who worked most frequently with him on the
out-of-nowhere global phenomenon that is Bitcoin reveal the myths
surrounding the world's most famous crypto-currency are largely just
that - myths - and the facts are much stranger than the well-established
fiction.
Video: Leah McGrath Goodman discusses her article
Watch Video: http://nyti.ms/1hTvj8r
Far from leading to a Tokyo-based whiz kid using the name "Satoshi
Nakamoto" as a cipher or pseudonym (a story repeated by everyone from
Bitcoin's rabid fans to
The New Yorker), the trail followed by
Newsweek led
to a 64-year-old Japanese-American man whose name really is Satoshi
Nakamoto. He is someone with a penchant for collecting model trains and a
career shrouded in secrecy, having done classified work for major
corporations and the U.S. military.
Standing before me, eyes downcast, appeared to be the father of Bitcoin.
Not even his family knew.
Satoshi Nakamoto in Lancaster, Calif. Credit: Photo via Photobucket.com via Satoshi Nakamoto (Wagumabher)
There are several Satoshi Nakamotos living in North America and
beyond - both dead and alive - including a Ralph Lauren menswear
designer in New York and another who died in Honolulu in 2008, according
to the Social Security Index's Death Master File. There's even one on
LinkedIn who claims to have started Bitcoin and is based in Japan. But
none of these profiles seem to fit other known details and few of the
leads proved credible. Of course, there is also the chance "Satoshi
Nakamoto" is a pseudonym, but that raises the question why someone who
wishes to remain anonymous would choose such a distinctive name. It was
only while scouring a database that contained the registration cards of
naturalized U.S. citizens that a Satoshi Nakamoto turned up whose
profile and background offered a potential match. But it was not until
after ordering his records from the National Archives and conducting
many more interviews that a cohesive picture began to take shape.
Two weeks before our meeting in Temple City, I struck up an email
correspondence with Satoshi Nakamoto, mostly discussing his interest in
upgrading and modifying model steam trains with computer-aided design
technologies. I obtained Nakamoto's email through a company he buys
model trains from.
He has been buying train parts from Japan and England since he was a
teenager, saying, "I do machining myself, manual lathe, mill, surface
grinders."
The process also requires a good amount of math, something at which
Nakamoto - and his entire family - excels. The eldest of three brothers
who all work in engineering and technical fields, Nakamoto graduated
from California State Polytechnic University in Pomona, Calif., with a
degree in physics. But unlike his brothers, his circuitous career path
is very hard to trace.
Nakamoto ceased responding to emails I'd sent him immediately after I
began asking about Bitcoin. This was in late February. Before that, I'd
also asked about his professional background, for which there is very
little to be found in the public record. I only received evasive
answers. When he asked about my background, I told him I'd be happy to
elaborate over the phone and called him to introduce myself. When there
was no response, I asked his oldest son, Eric Nakamoto, 31, to reach out
and see whether his father would talk about Bitcoin. The message came
back he would not. Attempts through other family members also failed.
After that, Nakamoto disregarded my requests to speak by phone and
did not return calls. The day I arrived at his modest, single-family
home in southern California, his silver Toyota Corolla CE was parked in
the driveway but he didn't answer the door.
At one point he did peer out, cracking open the door screen and
making eye contact briefly. Then he shut it. That was the only time I
saw him without police officers in attendance.
"You want to know about my amazing physicist brother?" says Arthur
Nakamoto, Satoshi Nakamoto's youngest sibling, who works as director of
quality assurance at Wavestream Corp., a maker of radio frequency
amplifiers in San Dimas, Calif.
"He's a brilliant man. I'm just a humble engineer. He's very focused
and eclectic in his way of thinking. Smart, intelligent, mathematics,
engineering, computers. You name it, he can do it."
But he also had a warning.
"My brother is an asshole. What you don't know about him is that he's
worked on classified stuff. His life was a complete blank for a while.
You're not going to be able to get to him. He'll deny everything. He'll
never admit to starting Bitcoin."
And with that, Nakamoto's brother hung up.
His remarks suggested I was on the right track, but that was not
enough. While his brother suggested Nakamoto would be capable of
starting Bitcoin, I was not at all sure whether he knew for certain one
way or the other. He said they didn't get along and didn't speak often.
I plainly needed to talk to Satoshi Nakamoto face to face.
Bitcoin is a currency that lives in the world of computer code
and can be sent anywhere in the world without racking up bank or
exchange fees, and is then stored on a cellphone or hard drive until
used again. Because the currency resides in code, it can also be lost
when a hard drive crashes, or stolen if someone else accesses the keys
to the code.
"The whole reason geeks get excited about Bitcoin is that it is the
most efficient way to do financial transactions," says Bitcoin's chief
scientist, Gavin Andresen, 47. He acknowledges that Bitcoin's ease of
use can also lead to easy theft and that it is safest when stored in a
safe-deposit box or on a hard drive that's not connected to the
Internet. "For anyone who's tried to wire money overseas, you can see
how much easier an international Bitcoin transaction is. It's just as
easy as sending an email."
Even so, Bitcoin is vulnerable to massive theft, fraud and scandal,
which has seen the price of Bitcoins whipsaw from more than $1,200 each
last year to as little as $130 in late February.
The currency has attracted the attention of the U.S. Senate, the
Department of Homeland Security, the Federal Reserve, the Internal
Revenue Service, the Treasury Department's Financial Crimes Enforcement
Network, the Securities and Exchange Commission and the Federal Bureau
of Investigation, which in October shuttered the online black market
Silk Road and seized its $3.5 million cache of Bitcoin. "The FBI is now
one of the largest holders of Bitcoin in the world," Andresen says.
In recent weeks, a revived version of Silk Road as well as one of
Bitcoin's biggest exchanges, Tokyo-based Mt. Gox, shut down and filed
for bankruptcy after attacks by hackers drained each of millions of
dollars.
Andresen, a Silicon Valley refugee in Amherst, Mass., says he worked
closely with the person "or entity" known as Satoshi Nakamoto on the
development of Bitcoin from June 2010 to April 2011. This was before the
rise of today's multibillion-dollar Bitcoin economy, boosted last year
by the unexpected, if cautious, endorsement of outgoing Federal Reserve
chair Ben Bernanke, who said virtual currencies "may hold long-term
promise."
Since then, Bitcoin ATMs have been cropping up across North America
(with some of the first in Vancouver, British Columbia; Boston; and
Albuquerque, N.M.) while the acceptance of Bitcoin has spread to
businesses as diverse as Tesla, OkCupid, Reddit, Overstock.com and
Virgin Galactic, Richard Branson's aviation company, which has said it
will blast people into space if they cough up enough Bitcoin.
"Working on Bitcoin's core code is really scary, actually,
because if you wreck something, you can break this huge $8 billion
project," says Andresen. "And that's happened. We have broken it in the
past."
For nearly a year, Andresen corresponded with the founder of Bitcoin a
few times a week, often putting in 40-hour weeks refining the Bitcoin
code. Throughout their correspondence, Nakamoto's evasiveness was his
hallmark, Andresen says.
In fact, he never even heard Nakamoto's voice, because the founder of
Bitcoin would not communicate by phone. Their interactions, he says,
always took place by "email or private message on the
Bitcointalk forum," where enthusiasts meet online.
"He was the kind of person who, if you made an honest mistake, he
might call you an idiot and never speak to you again," Andresen says.
"Back then, it was not clear that creating Bitcoin might be a legal
thing to do. He went to great lengths to protect his anonymity."
Nakamoto also ignored all of Andresen's questions about where he was
from, his professional background, what other projects he'd worked on
and whether his name was real or a pseudonym (many of Bitcoin's devotees
use pseudonyms). "He was never chatty," Andresen says. "All we talked
about was code."
Andresen, an Australian who graduated from Princeton with a
Bachelor's in computer science, eventually became Nakamoto's point
person on a growing team of international coders and programmers who
worked on a volunteer basis to perfect the Bitcoin code after its
inauspicious launch in January 2009.
Andresen originally heard about Bitcoin the following year through a
blog he followed. He reached out to Nakamoto through one of the Bitcoin
founder's untraceable email addresses and offered his assistance. His
initial message to Bitcoin's inventor read: "Bitcoin is a brilliant
idea, and I want to help. What do you need?"
Andresen says he didn't give much thought to working for an anonymous
inventor. "I am a geek," he says simply. "I don't care if the idea came
from a good person or an evil person. Ideas stand on their own."
Other developers were driven by "enlightened self-interest," profit
or personal politics, he says. But nearly all were intrigued by the
promise of a digital currency accessible to anyone in the world that
could bypass central banks at a time when the global financial system
was on life support. In this respect, the launch of Bitcoin could not
have been better timed.
In 2008, just before Bitcoin's official kickoff, a somewhat stiffly written, nine-page
proposal found its way onto the Internet bearing the name and email address of Satoshi Nakamoto.
The paper proposed "electronic cash" that "would allow online
payments to be sent directly from one party to another without going
through a financial institution," with transactions time-stamped and
viewable to all.
The masterstroke was replacing the role of banks as the trusted
middlemen with Bitcoin users, who would act as sentinels for the
integrity of the system, verifying transactions using their computing
power in exchange for Bitcoin.
Bitcoin production is designed to move at a carefully calibrated pace
to boost value and scarcity and remain inflation proof, halving its
quantity every four years, and is designed to stop proliferating when
Bitcoins reach a total of 21 million in 2140. (Bitcoins can be divided
by up to eight decimal places, with the smallest units called
"satoshis.")
"I got the impression that Satoshi was really doing it for political
reasons," says Andresen, who gets paid in Bitcoins - along with a
half-dozen other Bitcoin core developers working everywhere from Silicon
Valley to Switzerland - by the Bitcoin Foundation, a nonprofit working to standardize the currency.
He doesn't like the system we have today and wanted a different one
that would be more equal. He did not like the notion of banks and
bankers getting wealthy just because they hold the keys," says Andresen.
Holding the keys has also made early comers to Bitcoin wealthy beyond
measure. "I made a small investment in Bitcoin and it is actually
enough that I could now retire if I wanted to," Andresen says. "Overall,
I've made about $800 per penny I've invested. It's insane."
One of the first people to start working with Bitcoin's founder in
2009 was Martti Malmi, 25, a Helsinki programmer who invested in
Bitcoins. "I sold them in 2011 and bought a nice apartment," he says.
"Today, I could have bought 100 nice apartments."
Communication with Bitcoin's founder was becoming less frequent by
early 2011. Nakamoto stopped posting changes to the Bitcoin code and
ignored conversations on the Bitcoin forum.
Andresen was unprepared, however, for Satoshi Nakamoto's reaction to an email exchange between them on April 26, 2011.
"I wish you wouldn't keep talking about me as a mysterious shadowy
figure," Nakamoto wrote to Andresen. "The press just turns that into a
pirate currency angle. Maybe instead make it about the open source
project and give more credit to your dev contributors; it helps motivate
them."
Andresen responded: "Yeah, I'm not happy with the 'wacky pirate money' tone, either."
Then he told Nakamoto he'd accepted an invitation to speak at the
Central Intelligence Agency headquarters. "I hope that by talking
directly to them and, more importantly, listening to their
questions/concerns, they will think of Bitcoin the way I do - as a
just-plain-better, more efficient, less-subject-to-political-whims
money," he said. "Not as an all-powerful black-market tool that will be
used by anarchists to overthrow the System."
From that moment, Satoshi Nakamoto stopped responding to emails and dropped off the map.
Nakamoto's house
Nakamoto's family describe him as extremely intelligent, moody and
obsessively private, a man of few words who screens his phone calls,
anonymizes his emails and, for most of his life, has been preoccupied
with the two things for which Bitcoin has now become known: money and
secrecy.
For the past 40 years, Satoshi Nakamoto has not used his birth name
in his daily life. At the age of 23, after graduating from California
State Polytechnic University, he changed his name to "Dorian Prentice
Satoshi Nakamoto," according to records filed with the U.S. District
Court of Los Angeles in 1973. Since then, he has not used the name
Satoshi but instead signs his name "Dorian S. Nakamoto."
Descended from Samurai and the son of a Buddhist priest, Nakamoto was
born in July 1949 in the city of Beppu, Japan, where he was brought up
poor in the Buddhist tradition by his mother, Akiko. In 1959, after a
divorce and remarriage, she immigrated to California, taking her three
sons with her. Now age 93, she lives with Nakamoto in Temple City.
Nakamoto did not get along with his stepfather, but his aptitude for
math and science was evident from an early age, says Arthur, who also
notes, "He is fickle and has very weird hobbies."
Just after graduating college, Nakamoto went to work on defense and
electronics communications for Hughes Aircraft in southern California.
"That was just the beginning," says Arthur, who also worked at Hughes.
"He is the only person I have ever known to show up for a job interview
and tell the interviewer he's an idiot - and then prove it."
Nakamoto has six children. The first, a son from his first marriage
in the 1980's, is Eric Nakamoto, an animation and 3-D graphics designer
in Philadelphia. His next five children were with his second wife, Grace
Mitchell, 56, who lives in Audubon, N.J., and says she met Nakamoto at a
Unitarian church mixer in Cherry Hill, N.J., in the mid-1980s. She
recalls he came to the East Coast after leaving Hughes Aircraft, now
part of Raytheon, in his 20s and next worked for Radio Corporation of
America in Camden, N.J., as a systems engineer.
"We were doing defensive electronics and communications for the
military, government aircraft and warships, but it was classified and I
can't really talk about it," confirms David Micha, president of the
company now called L-3 Communications.
Mitchell says her husband "did not talk much about his work" and
sometimes took on military projects independent of RCA. In 1987, the
couple moved back to California, where Nakamoto worked as a computer
engineer for communications and technologies companies in the Los
Angeles area, including financial information service Quotron Systems
Inc., sold in 1994 to Reuters, and Nortel Networks.
Nakamoto, who was laid off twice in the 1990s, according to Mitchell,
fell behind on mortgage payments and taxes and their home was
foreclosed. That experience, says Nakamoto's oldest daughter, Ilene
Mitchell, 26, may have informed her father's attitude toward banks and
the government.
A libertarian, Nakamoto encouraged his daughter to be independent,
start her own business and "not be under the government's thumb," she
says. "He was very wary of the government, taxes and people in charge."
She also describes her father as a man who worked all hours, from
before the family rose in the morning to late into the night. "He would
keep his office locked and we would get into trouble if we touched his
computer," she recalls. "He was always expounding on politics and
current events. He loved new and old technology. He built his own
computers and was very proud of them."
Around 2000, Nakamoto and Grace separated, though they have never
divorced. They moved back to New Jersey with their five children and
Nakamoto worked as a software engineer for the Federal Aviation
Administration in New Jersey in the wake of the September 11 attacks,
doing security and communications work, says Mitchell.
"It was very secret," she says. "He left that job sometime in 2001 and I don't think he's had a steady job since."
When the FAA contract ended, Nakamoto moved back to Temple City,
where for the rest of that decade things get hazy about what kind of
work he undertook.
Ever since Bitcoin rose to prominence there has been a hunt for
the real Satoshi Nakamoto. Did he act alone or was he working for the
government? Bitcoin has been linked to everything from the National
Security Agency to the International Monetary Fund.
Yet, in a world where almost every big Silicon Valley innovation
seems to erupt in lawsuits over who thought of it first, in the case of
Bitcoin the founder has remained conspicuously silent for the past five
years.
"I could see my dad doing something brilliant and not accepting the
greater effect of it," says Ilene Mitchell, who works for Partnerships
for Student Achievement in Beaverton, Ore. "But I honestly don't see him
being straight about it. Any normal person would be all over it. But
he's not totally a normal person."
Nakamoto's middle brother, Tokuo Nakamoto, who lives near his brother
and mother, in Duarte, Calif., agrees. "He is very meticulous in what
he does, but he is very afraid to take himself out into the media, so
you will have to excuse him," he says.
Characteristics of Satoshi Nakamoto, the Bitcoin founder, that
dovetail with Dorian S. Nakamoto, the computer engineer, are numerous.
Those working most closely with Bitcoin's founder noticed several
things: he seemed to be older than the other Bitcoin developers. And he
worked alone.
"He didn't seem like a young person and he seemed to be influenced by
a lot of people in Silicon Valley," says Nakamoto's Finnish protégé,
Martti Malmi. Andresen concurs: "Satoshi's style of writing code was
old-school. He used things like reverse Polish notation."
In addition, the code was not always terribly neat, another sign that
Nakamoto was not working with a team that would have cleaned up the
code and streamlined it.
"Everyone who looked at his code has pretty much concluded it was a
single person," says Andresen. "We have rewritten roughly 70 percent of
the code since inception. It wasn't written with nice interfaces. It was
like one big hairball. It was incredibly tight and well-written at the
lower level but where functions came together it could be pretty messy."
Satoshi Nakamoto's 2008 online proposal also hints at his age, with
the odd reference to "disk space" - something that hasn't been an issue
since the last millennium - and older research citations of
contemporaries' work going back to 1957.
The Bitcoin code is based on a network protocol that's been
established for decades. Its brilliance is not so much in the code
itself, says Andresen, but in the design, which unites functions to
reach multiple ends. The punctuation in the proposal is also consistent
with how Dorian S. Nakamoto writes, with double spaces after periods and
other format quirks.
In the debate between those who claim Nakamoto writes curiously
"flawless English" for a Japanese man and those who contend otherwise,
writing under both names can swerve wildly between uppercase and
lowercase, full spellings and abbreviations, proper English and slang.
In his correspondences and writings, it has widely been noted that
Satoshi Nakamoto alternates between British and American spellings -
and, depending on his audience, veers between highly abbreviated
verbiage and a more formal, polished style. Grace Mitchell says her
husband does the same.
Dorian S. Nakamoto's use of English, she says, was likely influenced
by his lifelong interest in collecting model trains, many of which he
imported from England as a teenager while he was still learning English.
Mitchell suspects Nakamoto's initial interest in creating a digital
currency that could be used anywhere in the world may have stemmed from
his frustration with bank fees and high exchange rates when he was
sending international wires to England to buy model trains. "He would
always complain about that," she says. "I would not say he writes
flawless English. He will pick up words and mix the spellings."
Eric, Nakamoto's oldest son from his first marriage, says he remains
torn over whether his father is the founder of Bitcoin, noting that
messages from the latter appear more "concise" and "refined than that of
my father's."
Perhaps the most compelling parallel between the two Nakamotos are
their professional skill sets and career timeframes. Andresen says
Satoshi Nakamoto told him about how long it took him to develop Bitcoin -
a span that falls squarely into Dorian S. Nakamoto's job lapse starting
in 2001. "Satoshi said he'd been working on Bitcoin for years before he
launched it," Andresen says. "I could see the original code taking at
least two years to write. He had a revelation that he had solved
something no one had solved before."
Satoshi Nakamoto's three-year silence also dovetails with health
issues suffered by Dorian S. Nakamoto in the past few years, his family
says. "It has been hard, because he suffered a stroke several months ago
and before that he was dealing with prostate cancer," says his wife,
who works as a critical-care nurse in New Jersey. "He hasn't seen his
kids for the past few years."
She has been unable to get Nakamoto to speak with her about whether
he was the founder of Bitcoin. Eric Nakamoto says his father has denied
it. Tokuo and Arthur Nakamoto believe their brother will leave the truth
unconfirmed.
"Dorian can just be paranoid," says Tokuo. "I cannot get through to
him. I don't think he will answer any of these questions to his family
truthfully."
Of course, none of this puts to rest the biggest question of all -
the one that only Satoshi Nakamoto himself can answer:
What has kept him
from spending his hundreds of millions of dollars of Bitcoin, which he
reaped when he launched the currency years ago? According to his family
both he - and they - could really use the money.
Andresen says if Nakamoto is as concerned about maintaining his
anonymity as he remembers the answer might be simple: He does not want
to participate in the Bitcoin madness. "If you come out as the leader of
Bitcoin, now you have to make appearances and presentations and
comments to the press and that didn't really fit with Satoshi's
personality," he says. "He didn't really want to lead it anymore. He was
pretty intolerant to incompetence. And he also realized the project
would go on without him."
On the other hand, it is possible Nakamoto simply lost the private
security keys to unlock his Bitcoin and cash in on his riches. Andresen,
however, says he doubts it. "He was too disciplined," he says.
If Nakamoto ever sells his Bitcoin fortune, he would likely have to
do so at a legitimate Bitcoin bank or exchange, which would not only
give away his identity but alert everyone from the IRS to the FBI of his
movements. While Bitcoin lets its users conduct transactions
anonymously, all transactions can be viewed transparently online - and
everyone is watching Nakamoto's Bitcoin to see if he spends it, says
Andresen.
For his part, Andresen says he is inclined to respect Nakamoto's
anonymity. "When programmers get together, we don't talk about who
Satoshi Nakamoto is," he says. "We talk about how we should have
invested in more Bitcoin. I mean, we're curious about it, but honestly,
we really don't care."
Calling the possibility her father could also be the father of
Bitcoin "flabbergasting," Ilene Mitchell says she isn't surprised her
father would choose to stay under cover if he was the man behind this
venture, especially as he is currently concerned about his health.
"He is very wary of government interference in general," she says.
"When I was little, there was a game we used to play. He would say,
'Pretend the government agencies are coming after you.' And I would hide
in the closet."
Forensic analysts Sharon Sergeant and Barbara Mathews contributed to research for this piece.
Contributed by
Leah McGrath Goodman Newsweek Mar 6, 2014
Newsweek issued a statement about this article on March 7, 2014
*** Dorian Nakamoto's Statement Recieved on March 19, 2014:
My name is Dorian Satoshi Nakamoto. I am the subject of the
Newsweekstory on Bitcoin. I am writing this statement to clear my name.
I did not create, invent or otherwise work on Bitcoin. I unconditionally deny the Newsweek report.
http://binaryapi.ap.org/56ae83bf0ce440008a95c1a189f88903/460x.jpg
The first time I heard the term "bitcoin" was from my son in
mid-February 2014. After being contacted by a reporter, my son called me
and used the word,which I had never before heard. Shortly thereafter,
the reporter confronted me at my home. I called the police. I never
consented to speak with the reporter. In an ensuing discussion with a
reporter from the Associated Press, I called the technology "bitcom."
I was still unfamiliar with the term.My background is in
engineering. I also have the ability to program. My most recent job was
as an electrical engineer troubleshooting air traffic controlequipment
for the FAA. I have no knowledge of nor have I ever worked on
cryptography, peer to peer systems, or alternative currencies.
I have not been able to find steady work as an engineer or
programmer for ten years. I have worked as a laborer, polltaker, and
substitute teacher. I discontinued my internet service in 2013 due to
severe financial distress. I am trying to recover from prostate surgery
in October 2012 and a stroke I suffered in October of 2013. My prospects
for gainful employment has been harmed because of Newsweek's article.
Newsweek's false report has been the source of a great deal of
confusion and stress for myself, my 93-year old mother, my siblings, and
their families. I offer my sincerest thanks to those people in the
United States and around the world who have offered me their support. I
have retained legal counsel. This will be our last public statement on
this matter. I ask that you now respect our privacy.
Dorian Satoshi Nakamoto
Temple City, California
March 17, 2014
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