I have been collecting racial encounters and promise I will relate them next week, when I get around to addressing the Mystery of Mister Way. First, for most of my readers, who have read none of my many books about surviving on the streets of Baltimore, alone, at night, in a majority black city as an unapologetic white man, from 1981 through 2014, permit me to relate an encapsulation of my ‘race traitor’ genesis.
In many ways this is the tale of two neighborhoods in Northeast Baltimore: Gardenville, along U.S. Route #1, known as Belair Road; and Hamilton, a mile and a half to the West, along a parallel Maryland Route, Harford Road. It was 1982. In 1981 I had moved into the 95% white area encompassed by these two neighborhoods. Baltimore itself was 50/50 racially, but was mostly segregated. I was working in Gardenville and living alternately in Hamilton and Gardenville.
My wife and I were renting the first floor of a nice house when the land lady said that we had to get rid of my wife’s dog, because it stood up to her dog, and she feared a dog fight. From this petty beginning we began imagining owning our own home. I decided to buy a house and looked at one across the street. When my mother heard this she panicked and dispatched her new husband, ‘Stump’ to talk me out of the purchase. I pointed out how nice the Cape Cod was and that it was in an all white neighborhood. He pointed over the hill to the Cedonia neighborhood and said, “You’re only one mile from black!”
Appraised of the fact that I was in an invasion path I decided to buy closer to Hamilton. I had to take out two loans to accomplish this, but did. I found it odd when we moved in that dozens of older whites were peeking out their doors and windows at us. I asked the realtor what this was about. He said, “If you were black I would never sell another house in this neighborhood again.”
Not being ruled by abject fear of a superior race I said, “They're all in their forties. [We had bought the home of a deceased elderly couple.] As long as they don’t sell, the neighborhood will remain white.”
A month later a news story went up claiming that realtors in our 10,000 house area were only showing houses to whites. The next day for sale signs began popping up—white cowards fleeing from the master race.
I was ashamed.
Most of my white workers were alcoholics and drug addicts.
My only good workers were poor black men who bussed it out from the inner city.
A quarter of my white neighbors were so terrified of blacks—believed black men to be so awesomely unbeatable in combat—that they fled when blacks were still two miles out!
I was the last white to buy a house in that neighborhood.
I decided to tough it out.
Then the housing projects down town were blown up and the section eight vouchers were dispersed along the 4 bus lines that served the three now defunct inner city housing projects, and my neighborhood.
White flight—the cowardly, unmanly, rout of a vapidly withering degenerate race—intensified until 1,000 white homeowners were fleeing the city every month in the 1990s.
Here is a clue white people: if you want another group of people to be convinced that they can bully you, rob you, rape you, kill you, and then sue you, then go into debt for 30 years just so your sissy, drunken, drug-addicted non-working ass will not have to face them.
I had always been threatened and attacked by white men and black men in equal measure. It goes with the territory when you are a lone man; your race and their race come after you. I could deal with being chased with vehicles, stoned, shot at, threatened with knives, and having cops and pit bulls set on me. What I could not deal with was the level of black predation leveled at my wife and sons. I could not be at work, with the wife, and at school at the same time.
I left the house vacant and we moved into the county, where I was promptly threatened and attacked by various groups of white men and my youngest son was robbed by two older white boys. I had no problem facing off with the black dudes who were my hereditary enemies. But having my white neighbors—down to a 14 year old boy who pulled a knife on me because I would not let my wife give him my hard-earned money—stab me in the back and go after my family just like the blacks had, left a bad taste in an already embittered mouth.
Hamilton and Gardenville would have never become 70% and 55% black, indeed would have never had a black resident, had it not been the universal ethic of whites to tuck tail and flee like antelopes at the very prospect of encroachment.
I know that it is the federal, state and local government’s policy to force rival ethnic groups into the same space so that the resulting violence may be used to justify the growth of government. However, if there had been such a thing as a ‘white race’ a ‘white tribe’ a ‘white culture’ they would have stood up for their hard won property rather than incur 30 years of debt at age 45 for running like the frightened slave that was once equated with Daniel Boone running from a bear.
You know who was most upset when I moved out to the county to protect my wife and sons?
My black neighbor, a hard working man whose wife was a secretary. When I apologized, and told him I would have never left if not for my wife and kids being attacked and threatened, he said, “I know man, but the damned thing is, I moved out here to live with people like you. Now the people I moved away from are following me.”
Those hood rats were being paid to follow him. Their hood rats have since spawned and older black men like Elmore, who hurried away from the bar at sundown this evening as if vampires were about to drop out of the sky, are being preyed upon by the second generation of subsidized predators—his own race doing him like mine did me.
I know a lot of my readers—some close friends—who believe in white nationalism and white separatism view me as a traitor for treating blacks equally. But I see it differently. The proof that I am a racist and not a race traitor is that I treat blacks equally to whites. These blacks are upstanding rivals, enemies, people who are willing to confront me, who are at least alive. And, as a fighter—rather than as a cowardly white ghost of the conquerors of some past age—if I am given a choice between siding with the enemy that is man enough to face me in the street, or with the so-called friend who ran like hell and left me to face the invasion alone, I’ll take the brave enemy over the cowardly friend any time.
I went out and drank with a few of them this afternoon: the cop who hates and fears me, the drug dealer who still has not figured out what the hell my angle is; the stolen food vender [the only white guy] Elmore the former Pimlico Jockey, the three postal employees, the two masons from the Rising Sun Lodge… Although this neighborhood of Hamilton, which I moved back into 4 years back in order to write from an affordable location, is 45% white and 55% black, of the five Harford Road bars three are totally one race establishments. The two mixed race bars include the microbrew joint that appeals to the 90% white affluent clientele, and Sue’s bar where 12 of the 18 patrons were black, and each and every one stopped by to say hello to the few white folks at the front of the bar before they took their seat in the back.
The truly interesting factor is this: Gardenville got hit harder with section eight housing when the projects went down. So half of these black patrons came over from Belair Road—30 year old employed men staying away from the stupid youth that infests their neighborhood—to drink with some well-mannered black elders and the stay-behind whites too.
So those are the mechanics by which a man is pushed from his home in defense of his family, a push that only comes because the men of his milksick tribe run and hide at the mere mention of our masters’ Janissary horde.
I am currently corresponding with a white woman who is courageously supporting herself as a kind of urban nomad and takes issue with my tolerance of the tribe who overran my home as the white rabbits of the world ran and left me alone.
She has a different view of things from her Left Coast vantage, and she’ll have her say next week. In the mean time, I feel lucky to have been spared the cushy rot of an established majority which learns nothing but ease. For the abject cowardice of my kind forced me to adapt to living with a people that were not the unbeatable warriors that white suburban myth supposes, but simply—if often differently—human.
You make some great points James.
Indeed, WNs are always telling me to get the hell out of CA. It is almost always our way to turn and run.
Maybe it is because the law goes harder on us Whites. YES I know everyone is saying cops are harder on Blacks but if that is true, why are there no-go zones? There are places that get so bad cops and fire departments refuse to serve them. That's ridiculous...no it's something worse. It's deliberate.
Blacks and Mexicans in particular (and Muslims in Europe) seem to be able to get away with a lot more than we are. KNOWN terrorists are allowed to run loose, while ma and pa kettle are getting frisked at the airport.
bbc.com/news/uk-30192912
The Boston Bombing brothers were KNOWN to have been radical islamists (The FBI was warned by the Russians)
And *I* have to worry about getting a ticket for riding my bike on the sidewalk.
First and foremost cops are into self-preservation, just like most living organisms. Especially the top cop. I can't stand seeing one of my fighters get cut. I could imagine how upsetting it must be to be a police supervisor and have your men shot. Cops are among my enemies as they are tasked with harassing lone white males on foot as part of the drug war. But I recognize that they have an impossible task, and when I ran a business they were my saviors. The only thing modern police forces are well positioned to do is to protect businesses against chronic and sporadic crime in cooperation with responsible private security.
Up until about 10 years ago in Baltimore, cops routinely beat blacks—innocent, guilty, not innocent for long—for the same reason why Islamists behead people, to terrify them and others. At about that time we had an initiative which resulted in 1 in 5 Baltimoreans being locked up in a single year—most black men [almost every one in town!], most never charged with anything. That was the soft-sell version of the terror campaign and it backfired like its predecessor. What would be a disaster for you or me—being locked up for no reason—is shrugged off, as commonplace and the threat of incarceration carries less weight. Also, many of these innocent people lost their jobs for not reporting to work, and then got recruited into the drug trade by gangs who use jails and prisons as recruitment centers.
The cops had the need to be feared to make up for the fact that they had no relationship with the so-called Black Community. For instance, a rural sheriff generally has a community relationship. The beat cop way back when could try to develop one if he was from that community, but it was such a sketchy proposition that the bully tactics were used instead—then came car mobile policing, then the war on drugs, intensifying the alienation and then...camera phones! There are almost 20,000 police brutality videos on YouTube! Lawyers could smell that potential civil litigation payoff from IsrŠ°el!
So now cops no longer do this to blacks as a matter of course—only when they are pissed or frustrated, and rarely even approach violent black criminals. Instead they arrest white drunks and drug addicts for walking down the street and don't have to worry about CNN going to bat for the loser they can for a day or two to rack up a drug war stat for their number-juking boss.
So what happens when people you have bullied for over 100 years now have the media hammer—have the press on their side? A black population that has been well-schooled in working the criminal justice system. Mind you this is still a minority of blacks. Most blacks in Baltimore are just trying to pay the rent and get drunk or high so they don't have to think about the kinds of things we discuss.
The question of black officers has always been a hot topic in Baltimore, Detroit, Chicago, etc. It is taboo for a black man to become a cop among a large segment of the population. The reason is that about 100 years ago, as black workers began migrating north to work in industrial jobs, Northern cities all of a sudden needed cops to keep the races separated. They got these cops from the south, as the cops down there were losing work due to the migration. Those cops ended up becoming security for lynch mobs. Cops made it possible for gangs of whites angry about blacks being brought in to work cheaper [by our same old high powered friends] to go into a black area, grab a guy, torture him, hang him, burn him, and drag the body around town. When that happens to great granddaddy the story is told down through the generations and gestational hatred blooms.
It is astounding to look at how docile blacks generally where [despite having 17% more testosterone], up until the 1960s. One group of cops actually sodomized a group of Black Muslims with night sticks for selling shirts and ties out of a car. The Black Muslims bent over and took the wood, having been under orders not to fight the cops. That kind of thing in the 1960s & 70s finally resulted in a backlash. Now we have a culture of fighting cops. I could not imagine a room full of black men today bending over while white cops sodomize them with night sticks. Black guys today would fight and die. In the 1990s there was one year in D.C. where cops were being snuffed in their cars by black gang members who just walked up to them and blew them away while they read the paper. As bad as Baltimore is, D.C is right there with us. Fred Reed used to do police reporting there and has a number of old articles that show you what East Coast cops have dealt with since the drug war kicked off.
It is all about conditioning. A people who were once among the most docile slave populations in human history have been trained—on purpose or incidentally—by past police departments to become mindless aggressors at the slightest provocation. This violent stupidity now has support from the left wing press, and the tilt is on. This is a situation without good guys, just bad and worse.
We live in interesting times Maureen, and, as a free-sleeping woman, you need some scary skinhead in your life who can act as mugger repellent, and also be there to take the beat down from the cops when they decide they don't like where your van is parked. Please do him the favor of not cussing at the cops while they kick his ass—that will just make it worse. I am serious here. We are moving into a time when the hyper-aggressive social control organisms generations of our masters have put in place in the form of police departments will target more and more poor whites for violence. This is what they do; aggression being both the ends and the means of police psychology. A cop is a trained bully. Now that Mommy Media and Daddy DOJ won't let him jack up the blacks anymore he will need an outlet for his reason for being, and that will be us some day.
Be observant, think tactically, and keep in touch.
Peace.