Category: Technology – ITandBI


‘Hidden in the Shadows’

“The First Portrait and First Statue of Two Philly Heroic Black Icons”

‘Abele and Catto, Philly’s Finest’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2017/11/13/out-from-the-shadows/

Who Designed the Philadelphia Museum of Art?

Julian Abele!”

The first portrait of an African-American to be displayed on the campus of Duke University!

According to History, Many  Reliable Sources, Wikipedia Journals, and Me… “Julian Abele (April 30, 1881 – April 23, 1950), Philadelphia’s own, was a prominent African-American architect, and chief designer in the offices of Horace Trumbauer. He contributed to the design of more than 400 buildings, including Harvard University’s Widener Memorial Library (1915), Monmouth University’s Shadow Lawn Mansion (1927), the Central Branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia (1927), and the Philadelphia Museum of Art (1914-28); and was the primary designer for the campus of Duke University (1924-54). Abele’s contributions to the Trumbauer firm were great, but the only building for which he claimed authorship during Trumbauer’s lifetime was the Duke University Chapel.”

…Another Best Kept Secret From The American and World Public. Now and Forever More…

“Out From The Shadows”

The first African-American graduate of the University of Pennsylvania Architecture Department!

>

‘A Statue Of A Black Man Has Been Erected And Placed On The Apron Of Philadelphia’s City Hall!’

‘The First African American In Philadelphia To Have A Statue Erected In His Honor’ is:

“Octavius Valentine Catto!”

In light of the many statues that have come to pass… the removal of honors bestowed upon slaveholders/owners across these United States, has brought to play major controversy in the aftermath and ongoing association/practice of racism and bigotry.

Here in Philadelphia, a major proponent of separation between the races and hater of Black and Brown folk in this town was one ‘Frank Rizzo.’ He was the racist police commissioner and mayor back in the day who held a firm hatred for Black progression while entertaining a massive hatred for the local “Black Panther Party” as well as the “MOVE” organization. The removal of his statue which stands out in front of the ‘Municipal Services Building’ on JFK Blvd, across the street from City Hall raises the ire of many white folk in Philly. The erection of a Black Fist and Afro Hair Pick next to the despised monument, simply does not do justice for the representation of Black Folk in this city or any type of unification amongst the citizens of Philadelphia – The erection of the ‘Catto Statue’ does.

The name “Catto” was infamously dreaded and feared back in the day. If you were a kid attending school within the Philadelphia School System, you knew Catto as the bad school for boys; the other two (now defunct schools) were “Carmen” for girls, and “Daniel Boone” for boys.

We, who were ‘Black School Children,’ should have known exactly who this great man was. His name was known only for something negative contrary to something, of course, positive.

The name was successfully defamed and removed from the memory of all who knew him and his uplifting work. The ones who were placed in control, in charge…the ones who were entrusted with the power of educating and/or de-educating poor Black and Brown children throughout the school system. The meeting rooms were known to have echoed with loud and sinister laughter in the old school district headquarters located at 21st street and Benjamin Franklin Parkway. It was they who orchestrated the defamation of Catto’s name and legacy.

We as people of color…all people, parents, and grandparents should feel and realize the importance of not forgetting the history of the first, real, and huge honor bestowed upon “Octavius Valentine Catto,” by The city of Philadelphia, PA!

The intellectual, a.k.a., Brother Catto, circa 1959, had his name placed upon a school where academics had no meaning. Catto was a school that nobody wanted to attend. Like the defunct ‘Daniel Boone’ and ‘Carmen’ disciplinary schools, the school was only known for the day-time corralling of bullies, criminals in training, and juvenile delinquents. Many times when these classified individuals would turn up missing from the traditional hallways and locker rooms, it was believed that they has been shipped or transferred to one of those three schools – especially the one on South Street, “Catto!”

Brother Catto was shot and killed in broad day-light during his attempts at getting out the “Black Vote.” He was actively participating in getting Black Folk to the polls safely. Black Voters were openly threatened with violence and worse by white rioters and hoodlums who supported white supremacy and white domination for simply thinking about voting.

Despite many witnesses, he was killed by a white man who was, of course, acquitted of his murder. Another killer, a key witness for the defense was also charged with the killing of a Black Man on that very day and was acquitted previously.

The son of slaves, Catto was an intellectual who was educated by an intellect…his educated Father! He also studied the literary classics, advanced mathematics, and languages while being taught by the Quaker and Presbyterian Scholars and several other educated persons in the Free-Thinking Community.

Someone asked if Blacks could possibly be intellectual…especially descendants of ignorant slaves.

Catto certainly proved his mind more than worthy and most probably exceeding the mental prowess of those who declared or considered themselves to be superior to any race of a non-white society.

These superior thinking beings doubted themselves and entertained fear at the thought…the dangerous possibility of many persons like Catto being in existence. Could it be possible that many more of these people walked amongst them? What would happen it these Black intelligent minds were all capable of mastering intellectual thought? Could there be legions of Young Black African Americans with academic abilities waiting to teach other Young Black African Americans?

One question could be asked…was Catto murdered because he dared to teach? Was he killed for daring to be politically incorrect for believing himself to be capable of mastering intellectual thought and passing it along to other Blacks? Was his gift contagious? Could it be that he was killed for also having his students routinely recite and debate in open public forums and squares, displaying their competent abilities and awareness? …I wonder.

Octavius Valentine Catto was well known. He was, by the white power entity, considered an “enemy of the state.” He was considered to be guilty of continually striving to free the minds of Young Black People.

He was vehemently despised by the Philadelphia Black Democratic Party of the particular era, while being politely tolerated by the progressive anti-slavery wing of the Republican Party.

I can honestly say that I am in total agreement with Brother ‘Jim Scott’ of SCOOP USA, on the unveiling of ‘The Octavius Valentine Catto Statue’ which now sits upon the apron of Philadelphia’s City Hall Courtyard as a great moment in the history of ‘Philly!’

If anyone deserves to be commemorated in chiseled stone – it’s Brother Catto!

The name of Dr. Catto should be remembered by People of Color – All People and recognized alongside Dr. King and many other Black American Heroes… However, it wasn’t, was it? We can ask why, but we all know the answer to that question…don’t we?

 

Til Next Time…

‘G’

~ “Sankofa” the “Maafa” ~

 

 

Acknowledgments and References:

Julian Abele_5.9.13

The Five Major African Initiation Rites

Prof. Manu Ampim

Cynthia Merrill Artis

http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=249135&cid=&edit=#.UX8ohwS2vOE.twitter

“African philosophy from one culture to another agrees that the spirit of the deceased is still with the living community, and that a distinction must be made in the status of the various spirits, as there are distinctions made in the status of the living!”

Hotep (Peace) Shem (I come to you)

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The only way to correct the mis-education is to re-educate!

http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=249135&cid=&edit=#.UX8ohwS2vOE.twitter

~4.29.13~

>

‘Julian Francis Abele’

http://blackhistory.com/content/289955/julian-francis-abele

Posted By: Barbara Robinson
Friday, February 5th 2016 at 9:33AM

In Conjunction with the missing Posting By Gregory V. Boulware, Esq. On Julian Abele_5.9.13

>

(Missing Posting on Julian Abele By Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.)

The Philadelphia Art Museum’s Architect: Horace Trumbauer and Julian Abele

As Presented By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

~5.9.13~

http://blackhistory.com/content/289955/julian-francis-abele

http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=249135&cid=&edit=#.UX8ohwS2vOE.twitter

http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608

http://blackhistory.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608

https://independent.academia.edu/GregoryVBoulware

“Twitter”

https://twitter.com/hashtag/BoulwareBooks?src=hash

“Amazon”

http://www.amazon.com/Gregory-V.-Boulware/e/B00OI16PDI/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

ThePaper.Li.BoulwareDaily

http://paper.li/~/publisher/5445ebb6-59f5-4aaf-bbbb-4bfc6689d423

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Background:

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Julian F. Abele

Julian Abele, photograph.jpg

Julian Abele (photo Duke University Archives)

Born Julian Francis Abele[1]

April 30, 1881

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania USA

Died April 23, 1950 (aged 68)

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania USA

NationalityU SA

Alma mater Cheyney University (1896)

Pennsylvania Museum School of Industrial Art (PMSIA) (1898)

University of Pennsylvania, Department of Architecture (B.A., Architecture, 1902)

Occupation architect

Notable work Duke University Campus

Duke University Chapel

Cameron Indoor Stadium

Allen Administrative Building (completed after his death)

Spouse(s) Marguerite Bulle (m.1925)

Children Julian Abele, Jr. (architect)

Marguerite Marie Abele

Nadia Boulanger Abele

Parent(s) Charles Abele

Mary Adelaide Jones Abele

Relatives Absalom Jones (Episcopalian minister)

Julian Abele Cook Jr. (judge)

Julian Abele Cook (architect)

Julian Francis Abele (April 30, 1881 – April 23, 1950) was a prominent African-American architect, and chief designer in the offices of Horace Trumbauer. He contributed to the design of more than 400 buildings, including the Widener Memorial Library at Harvard University (1912–15), the Central Branch of the Free Library of Philadelphia (1918–27), and the Philadelphia Museum of Art (1914–28). He was the primary designer of the west campus of Duke University (1924–54). Abele’s contributions to the Trumbauer firm were great, but the only building for which he claimed authorship during Trumbauer’s lifetime was the Duke University Chapel; after Trumbauer’s death, he was more open in claiming credit for his work, which included the original architectural drawings for Cameron Indoor Stadium.

Julian Abele was born in Philadelphia into a prominent family. His maternal grandfather was Robert Jones, who in the late 18th century founded the city’s Lombard Street Central Presbyterian Church. He was also related to Absalom Jones, who established the African Episcopal Church of St. Thomas in 1794, the first black church in Philadelphia. His nephew, Julian Abele Cook, worked as the Building Coordinator for Howard University, and Abele’s son, Julian Francis Abele, Jr. was an architectural engineer.

Abele’s temperament and his life defy easy characterization. He was a dedicated francophile, and his wife was French. A devotee of the Philadelphia Orchestra as well as of the University of Pennsylvania football team, he was reserved and always immaculately dressed. One friend noted that even on vacations at the beach he always wore his suit to the boardwalk.

Abele worked in many media: watercolor, lithography, etching and pencil,, while also working wood, iron, gold and silver.. He designed and constructed all his own furniture; even doing the petit point himself… While he knew many historic styles, he seemed to love Louis XIV French most of all..

Education:

Presentation drawing (1918) for the Free Library of Philadelphia. Although unsigned, this appears to be drawn by Abele.

Abele attended the Quaker-run Institute for Colored Youth, which later became Cheyney University, where he excelled in mathematics and was chosen to deliver the commencement address. In 1898, he completed a two-year architectural drawing course at the Pennsylvania Museum School of Industrial Art (PMSIA).

He was the first black student admitted to the Department of Architecture at the University of Pennsylvania. This achievement was all the more noteworthy for the restrictions blacks faced at the university, including not being able to live in dormitories or dine in the school’s cafeteria. On projects assigned to pairs of students, he partnered with Louis Magaziner, the only Jewish student in the department, who also faced discrimination. This was the beginning of a lifelong friendship between the two.

He won a 1901 student competition to design a Beaux Arts pedestrian gateway. His submission was in the form of an exedra – a curved bench flanked by piers, but with steps passing through its center. This became his first commission when it was built on the campus of Haverford College. The Edward B. Conklin Memorial Gate stands at the Railroad Avenue entrance to the college. He was widely respected among his peers, earning the nickname “Willing and Able”, and also won student awards for his designs for a post office and a museum of botany, and he was elected as the president of the university’s Architectural Society.

He became the University of Pennsylvania architecture department’s first black graduate in 1902. He worked part-time for a local architect and attend evening classes at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. Under the financial sponsorship of Philadelphia architect Horace Trumbauer, he traveled through France and Italy, an experience that was to influence his design work throughout his life.

École des Beaux-Arts:

Between 1903 and his hiring by Horace Trumbauer in 1906, Abele traveled throughout Europe. His descendants contend that he studied at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris during his stay. But Sandra L. Tatman, co-author of The Biographical Dictionary of Philadelphia Architects, 1700-1930, could find no record of his having been enrolled at the École. She allows that he may have been permitted to informally sit in on the school’s atelier. She also notes that Abele listed travel to France, Italy, England, Germany, Switzerland, and Spain on his membership application to the American Institute of Architects (AIA), but not study at the École des Beaux-Arts.

Career:

PMA T-Square Club Catalogue 1916 p.15.jpg

Immediately after his graduation from Penn in 1902, Abele traveled west to Spokane, Washington, where he designed a house for his sister, Elizabeth Abele Cook, before returning east. In 1906, Abele joined the Trumbauer firm as assistant to chief designer Frank Seeburger. When Seeburger left the firm in 1909, Abele advanced to chief designer. Abele’s stature within the firm was no secret; he was the second-highest paid employee. He was an architect.

Art historian David B. Brownlee studied the 14-year effort to design and build the Philadelphia Museum of Art, 1914-28. He credits Trumbauer architect Howell Lewis Shay with the building’s plan and massing, but notes that the final perspective drawings are in Abele’s distinctive hand. Design of the exterior terracing, including the front steps celebrated in the 1976 film Rocky, is credited to Abele.

Following Trumbauer’s death in 1938, the firm continued until 1950 under the name “Office of Horace Trumbauer,” co-headed by Abele and William O. Frank. Commissions were hard to come by during The Depression and World War II, but the firm completed Duke Indoor Stadium at Duke University in 1940, which was renamed Cameron Indoor Stadium in 1972, and later made additions to Duke’s Library (1948) and designed Duke’s Allen Administrative Building (1954).

When Abele joined the American Institute of Architects in 1942, Philadelphia Museum of Art director Fiske Kimball called him “one of the most sensitive designers in America”. Smithsonian Magazine described him, in a career retrospective, as “probably the most accomplished [Black Architect] of his era.”

Despite being the primary designer of Duke University, Abele was refused accommodations at a Durham hotel during a visit to campus. Although it was not until 1988 that a portrait of him was displayed at the University, the main quad at Duke University is now officially named Abele Quad with a dedication plaque prominently placed at the busiest spot on campus.

Family:

In 1925, at the age of 44, he married Marguerite Bulle, a French pianist 20 years his junior. They had three children: Julian Abele, Jr., Marguerite Marie Abele (died young), and Nadia Boulanger Abele. Marguerite left him in 1936, to become the common-law wife of opera singer Jozep Kowalewski, with whom she had three additional children. Because Abele never took action to divorce his wife, the Kowalewski children shared in his estate.

He died from a heart attack in 1950, in Philadelphia.

Legacy:

The Allen Administration Building at Duke University, which he designed, was completed after his death in 1950.

In 1988 Duke University honored Abele with his portrait that is displayed in the main lobby of the Allen Building. It was the first portrait of an African-American to be displayed on the campus. To prominently acknowledge his contribution to Duke University’s West Campus, the main quad at Duke is now officially named Abele Quad with a dedication plaque prominently placed at the busiest spot on campus.

On August 17, 2012, construction began on Julian Abele Park, at 22nd & Carpenter Streets in Philadelphia.

Architectural historian Dreck Spurlock Wilson is preparing the first biography of Abele.

List of Cheyney University of Pennsylvania alumni References:

^ Jump up to: a b c d e “PENN BIOGRAPHIES: Julian Francis Abele (1881-1950)”, University of Pennsylvania Archives

^ Jump up to: a b c Cf. Tifft 2005

^ Jump up to: a b Wilson, Dreck Spurlock, African-American Architects: A Biographical Dictionary, 1865-1945, Taylor & Francis, December 12, 2003. Cf. p. 144. Biographical entry for Julian Abele Cook (1904–1986), an architect. Judge Julian Abele Cook, Jr. is the son of Julian Abele Cook, the son of Julian Abele’s sister Elizabeth Rebecca Abele Cook.

Jump up ^ http://www.blackpast.org/aah/abele-julian-f-1881-1950

Jump up ^ “Julian Abele, Architect”. Library.duke.edu. May 26, 2010. Retrieved January 5, 2012.

^ Jump up to: a b c d e http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/out-of-the-shadows-85569503/

Jump up ^ “75th Anniversary – Julian Abele”. Libwww.freelibrary.org. Retrieved January 5, 2012.

^ Jump up to: a b Webster, Josephine Faulkner. “Julian Francis Abele (1881-1950).” In Wilson, Dreck Spurlock (ed.), African-American Architects: A Biographical Dictionary, 1865-1945, 2004, pp. 1–3. Taylor & Francis.

^ Jump up to: a b Henry Magaziner, son of Abele’s U. of P. classmate and friend Louis Magaziner, in a 1989 interview. Quoted in Susan E. Tifft, “Out of the Shadows,” Smithsonian Magazine, February 2005.

Jump up ^ “Gate on Haverford College Campus Linked to Black Architectural Pioneer Julian Abele,” Journal of Blacks in Higher Education, January 26, 2016.

Jump up ^ Conklin Memorial Gate, from Google Earth.

^ Jump up to: a b c d http://www.curbed.com/2015/1/16/10001296/julian-abele-black-architect-of-duke-university

Jump up ^ Gates, Henry Louis; Higginbotham, Evelyn Brooks (2004-04-29). African American Lives. Oxford University Press, USA. ISBN 9780195160246.

Jump up ^ “75th Anniversary – Julian Abele”. Libwww.freelibrary.org. Retrieved 2013-07-04.

Jump up ^ Biography: Abele, Julian Francis (1881 – 1950), from Philadelphia Architects and Buildings.

Jump up ^ https://www.philadelphiabuildings.org/pab/app/ar_display.cfm/21458

Jump up ^ David B. Brownlee, Making a Modern Classic: The Architecture of the Philadelphia Museum of Art (Philadelphia Museum of Art, 1997), pp. 60–61, 72–73.

^ Jump up to: a b https://today.duke.edu/2016/03/abele

^ Jump up to: a b William E. King (2009). “North Carolina Architects & Builders: Abele, Julian Francis (1881-1950)”. North Carolina State University Libraries.

Jump up ^ Friends of Julian Abele Park Website

Jump up ^ “Julian Abele Park Ribbon Cutting”, March 24, 2009.

Jump up ^ Kristin E. Holmes, “Haverford gate a portal to architect Abele’s legend,” The Philadelphia Inquirer, February 6, 2016.

Further reading:

Magaziner, Henry J., As I Remember Julian Abele, (unpublished typescript, biography file, Athenaeum of Philadelphia). The author was the son of Abele’s friend Louis Magaziner.

Maher, James T., The Twilight of Splendor; Chronicles of the Age of American Palaces, (Boston: Little, Brown, 1975).

Tifft, Susan E., “Out of the Shadows: After decades of obscurity, African-American architect Julian Abele is finally getting recognition for his contributions to some of 20th-century America’s most prestigious buildings”, Smithsonian Magazine, February 2005.

Wilson, Dreck Spurlock, African American Architects: A Biographical Dictionary, 1865-1945, (London: Routledge-Taylor & Francis Books, 2004).

External links:

Wikimedia Commons has media related to Julian Abele.

Julian Abele at Find a Grave

Abele, Julian (1881 – 1950) — “Philadelphia Architects and Buildings” biography.

Julian Abele: Hidden in the Shadows — Duke University Historical Note, University Archives.

Julian Abele — at the Pennsylvania Museum School of Industrial Art.

The Winterthur Library — Overview of an archival collection featuring Julian Abele.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julian_Abele

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List of schools of the School District of Philadelphia:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_schools_of_the_School_District_of_Philadelphia

https://www.publicschoolreview.com/boone-daniel-school-profile

http://www.philly.com/philly/news/special_packages/inquirer/school-violence/20110330_At_Philly_disciplinary_school__students_face_a_strict_day.html

Daniel Boone School:

https://www.publicschoolreview.com/boone-daniel-school-profile

https://search.yahoo.com/search;_ylt=AwrBT9KnGAlaAzsAFwlXNyoA;_ylc=X1MDMjc2NjY3OQRfcgMyBGZyA3lmcC10BGdwcmlkA3FDTDgzUHU1VFhPanpYSGp5Zk82dEEEbl9yc2x0AzAEbl9zdWdnAzAEb3JpZ2luA3NlYXJjaC55YWhvby5jb20EcG9zAzAEcHFzdHIDBHBxc3RybAMwBHFzdHJsAzY0BHF1ZXJ5A3RoZSUyMERhbmllbCUyMEJvb25lJTIwZGlzY2lwbGluYXJ5JTIwc2Nob29sJTIwaW4lMjBQaGlsYWRlbHBoaWEEdF9zdG1wAzE1MTA1NDU5Mzc-?p=the+Daniel+Boone+disciplinary+school+in+Philadelphia&fr2=sb-top&fr=yfp-t&fp=1

Carmen School For Girls (aka, ‘ShallCross):

http://www.philly.com/philly/news/special_packages/inquirer/school-violence/20110330_At_Philly_disciplinary_school__students_face_a_strict_day.html

https://search.yahoo.com/search;_ylt=A0LEVyERGglaHUYA.KZXNyoA;_ylc=X1MDMjc2NjY3OQRfcgMyBGZyA3lmcC10BGdwcmlkA0o4TUR0d0ZUU1gyWVVUbkZyZlRBQUEEbl9yc2x0AzAEbl9zdWdnAzAEb3JpZ2luA3NlYXJjaC55YWhvby5jb20EcG9zAzAEcHFzdHIDBHBxc3RybAMwBHFzdHJsAzczBHF1ZXJ5A3RoZSUyMENhcm1hbiUyMGRpc2NpcGxpbmFyeSUyMHNjaG9vbCUyMGZvciUyMGdpcmxzJTIwaW4lMjBQaGlsYWRlbHBoaWElMjAEdF9zdG1wAzE1MTA1NDYyNzA-?p=the+Carman+disciplinary+school+for+girls+in+Philadelphia+&fr2=sb-top&fr=yfp-t&fp=1

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~ “The Fall of Light” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=327765&cid=10

“Another monster boom sounded just around the corner on ‘Walnut Lane.’ The instant flash and boom on the street took out another building. A twin house on the odd numbered side of the street was suddenly and instantaneously gone. Loud noises under the street and greenish glowing lights appeared as the crowds rushed for their homes!”

 

~’When The Light Fell Down’~

 

“What the fuck was that?”

“I dunno…it’s pretty damned dark out there.”

“Shit man, a big ass bump like that had to be felt for a few blocks around!”

“…Feel anything else?”

“Nah…it was probably some big ass truck or something.”

Aw right, turn the radio up, the Halloween shows are about to start.” The doorbell rang. It was
one of those chime-like doorbell ringers. It had a firm but soft tone.

“Damn kids – pain in the ass…where’s the candy?”

“Ho Dude! Listen! It’s Orson Welles! It’s one of his old radio shows – hurry up! Get me a cassette tape, quick!”

Rushing through the house with a cassette tape in hand, Russell fell over the ottoman sitting near the dining room threshold between there and the kitchen. He managed to get the tape into the recording machine just as the announcer introduced Orson Welles’ Halloween play.

Andre picked up his hot cup of java and prepared to drop a bit of whiskey in it. From the corner of his right eye he thought he’d seen a flash of light. He was reassured by another flash of falling light. This one more prominent that the other. The first one seemed to be a little ways down the road – over on ‘Haines Street.’ The second one seemed to fall a bit closer. It fell with an Earth-shattering boom…right smack in the middle of ‘High Street’ and ‘Baynton Street.’ The neighbors were all running around the corner to see what they thought was a terrible car crash. It wasn’t. It was the apartment building which sat on the northwest corner. The building was gone. What took its place was a monstrous sized gaping hole. The hole almost appeared bottomless at first. Then the rush of creek water sprouted from below. Rumor has it that the majority of this ‘Germantown’ area stood over bedrock and heavily flowing creek-water. The water was much deeper than the basements of houses built above.

Andre and Russell ran out of the house on East Walnut Lane. They ran along with many other neighbors, turning the corner at ‘Baynton St.’ They were all joined with other neighbors who came running in from other directions. Not one of them could believe what their eyes beheld. Inside of the gaping hole of approximately 80 ft. deep with a circumference twice that size, rested the engine of an airplane…a ‘747’ class or such.

Someone from the crowd of on-lookers shouted in a panicked voice…”Look At That!”

All heads and eyes turned to see. We all looked up into the night-time sky only to see the smoking, burning jet-liner; the owner of the mechanism residing within the pit that fell from the darkness. Its cabin lights were all aglow as were the flames licking along its fuselage on the port side wing where once an engine was attached.

The nose-diving air-bus assured all who witnessed the impending and tragic doom of all who sat within. However, to the chagrin of its pursuer, the unexpected skillful and heroic effort on the part of the vehicle’s pilots, in escaping a perilous end. Turning and spinning out of a death defying nose-dive, the airplane banked leftward up into the moonless starfilled sky. A Greenish-blue-white light skirted along the edge of the airplane’s tail section. The great and powerfull all consuming brilliance of the strange light lit up the nighttime sky, nearly blinding all who gazed upon it.

From the corner of our eyes, another startling shimer grabbed everyone’s attention. Within a milimeter of a second, the brightened sky returned to its natural state. That same glance captured another burst of greenish-blue-white light eminating from ground to air. This burst of light proved fatal indeed. This powerbeam of light completely engulfed the airbus. It first appeared as if the airplane was surrounded, encircled within the greenish-blue-white ball of light when suddenly, without an explosion or booming sound, the vehicle simply dissapeared in a flash. The aftermath was a puff of smoke and dust trapped within the light trail which fell back onto the plane’s pursuer indeed… The only sound or noise, if you will; it made, was a crackling-lightning-like streak as it flashed about. The deadly light fell back. It’s trail returning to the owner; back to the eye-beam 0f glassened-multi-paned-plastic-like lenses that sat inside a metalic-like globe. This globe was attached at the middle, to a life-like pole that moved not unlike an ‘Ostrich’ or ‘Giraffe’s’ looping rubber-like neck. It was monstrously elongated and yet flexible. The long neck was attached to what appeared to be a floating nuclear sub-marine with the same plastic-looking, glass-like lenses embedded in both ends of the floating vessell.

“Did I say floating?”

“Oh hell yeah I did!”

“I’m talking into the microphone of the same tape recorder in which I kept my old ‘Orson Welles’ tape. I recorded the “War of the Worlds” on this recorder and was going to make another copy with this blank the inside. Since I recorded the show years back, I thought with today’s technology, the broadcast would be upgraded, hence, another copy of the halloween show via the radio. Besides, it was plain ole fun just sittin around the radio with a bunch of hot dogs, sausages, pop-corn, soda, a few brews, a belt of booze to top it all off, and your “homeys” to show off for of course. If we had a little weed, that would work too.

Yo, my name is ‘Russell Creed,’ and my homey is ‘Andre (Stevie) Stevens.’ The halloween show was just about to start when all hell broke loose!

We were just hangin out at my brother’s house, me and Dre., some call him ‘Stevie.’ ‘G’ was out of town for a few and asked me to look in on the crib to make sure everything’s okay. He didn’t know I was with my boys’ when I stopped in to chill-out. That’s when all this shit started… I’d like to be the one who tells you all about what’s happenin…but I think the narrator/interpreter can do a better job. I say this because I don’t think we’re going to survive this invasion. And it ain’t a damned thing me, you, or the damned government can do about it.

Dre., was it something you wanted to add?”

“Damn Man, for some weirdly odd reason, I thought of my diner left to get cold on the kitchen table… I forgot that I was hungry! The dark night had become brighter than the brightest day. It was white-hot, light without heat…but yet, it was hot!”

The enormous shadowy cylinder was fully exposed at the dusk of brilliant light. It stomped and stormed its massive metalic yet glass or plastic-like smooth frame into full view.

The horrifying vessell certainly did float. The military people have determined that these machines were utilizing some sort of magnetic repulsion or anti-gravity devices in order to move along without tracks or wheels…they certainly were not flying.

At this point, we could see only one of them. There were actually three. When it became possible to completely see these murderers…killers of innocence; the thing which first became visible was that of the heart-stopping variety. A shinning, shimmering, clanking, clunking, cluttering, abhorition of metalic horror came clumbering up ‘Walnut Lane’ from ‘Germantown Avenue.’ We could all see this from ‘Baynton St.’ The monster machine stood as tall as ‘Billy Penn’ atop City-Hall in ‘Philly’s Downtown’ area, hat and all!

The top of this alien monster machine appeared to be that of a walking military helicopter without the blades that make it fly. It had a very large basket-like attachment located on its undercarriage. This thing stood and walked upon three crab or spider-like legs. Three tentacles or limbs with six pincer-like grabbers or fingers pertruded. One could easily guess at what they were being used for.

The sidewalk began to crackle and break. The separation caused by the split right down the center of Baynton Street encouraged the crowds to disperse and run for shelter and home. The safety of their families was of extreme paramount.

Another monster boom sounded just around the corner on ‘Walnut Lane.’ The instant flash and boom on the street took out another building. A twin house on the odd numbered side of the street was suddenly and instantaneously gone. Loud noises under the street and greenish glowing lights appeared as the crowds rushed for their homes. The booming became regular. They exploded all around the neighborhood. Parked cars became airborne flying objects of mass destruction. They flew back to Earth as two ton bombs of metal and shrapnel, crushing other cars and several people in the meshing mess. Jet planes flew overhead as police sirens screamed all around. The police cars did not stop in to check on the people, they were fleeing the area enmass.

Immediatly upon seeing the alien machines, to the horror and sadness of all; a father and his three children ran down ‘Germantown Avenue.’ They vanished as one of the flying multi-toned trash collection trucks descended upon them. Overhead clouds formed and caused the night-time blackness to take on the appearance of a day-time sky… The booming thunder, thumping-metal-grinding walking machines, flashing-burning white to blue-green rays, and falling lights burned to ashes anyone and anything it touched…

The towering walking machine was flanked by the three smaller floating ones. Two were positioned to its left-rear, the other its right, while the third served as point. They all moved in a way which complimented one another. They moved almost in a uniformed manner. The movement was a difined and planned march. It played out as if it had been a tried and true manuever.

All four monsters came into full view. Buildings, our homes seemed to disintegrate right before our very eyes as they moved over the dusty rubble toward us.

>

“You have been asking for water for the last hour,” he said.

For a moment we were silent, taking stock of each other. I daresay he found me a strange enough figure, naked, save for my water-soaked trousers and socks, scalded, and my face and shoulders blackened by the smoke. His face was a fair weakness, his chin retreated, and his hair lay in crisp, almost flaxen curls on his low forehead; his eyes were rather large, pale-blue, and blankly staring. He spoke abruptly, looking vacantly away from me.

“This must be the beginning of the end,” he said, interrupting me. “The end! The great and terrible day of the Lord!” When the men shall call upon the mountains and the rocks to fall upon them and hide them – hide them from the face of Him that sitteth upon the throne!”

I began to understand the position. I ceased my labored reasoning, struggled to my feet, and standing over him, laid my hand on his shoulder.
“Be a man!” said I, “You are scared out your wits! What good is religion if it collapses under calamity? Think of what earthquakes and floods, wars and volcanoes, have done before to men! Did you think God had exempted Weybridge? He is not an insurance agent.”
For a time he sat in blank silence.
“But how can we escape?” he asked, suddenly. “They are invulnerable, they are pitiless.”
“Neither the one nor, perhaps, the other,” I answered. “And the mightier they are the more sane and wary should we be. One of them was killed yonder not three hours ago.”
“Killed1” he said, staring about him. “How can God’s ministers be killed?”
“I saw it happen.” I proceeded to tell him. “We have chanced to come in for the thick of it,” said I, “and that is all.”
“What is that flicker in the sky?” he asked abruptly.
I told him it was the heliograph signaling – that it was the sign of human help and effort in the sky.
“We are in the midst of it,” I said, “quiet as it is. That flicker in the sky tells of the gathering storm. Yonder, I take it, are the Martians, and Londonward, where those hills rise about Richmond and Kingston and the trees give cover, Earthworks are being thrown up and guns are being placed. Presently the Martians will be coming this way again.”

And even as I spoke he sprang to his feet and stopped me by a gesture.
“Listen!” he said.
From beyond the low hills across the water came the dull resonance of distant guns and a remote weird crying. Then everything was still. A cockchafer came droning over the hedge and past us. High in the west the crescent moon hung faint and pale above the smoke of Weybridge and Shepperton and the hot, still splendor of the sunset.

“We had better follow this path,” I said, “northward.”

Gene Barry was the starring hero from the classic ‘War of The Worlds’ by Herbert George Wells back in the sixties when I was a little boy. The bombs screamed across the big screen at the ‘Lehigh Movie Theatre’ on Lehigh Avenue between twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth Streets in North Philadelphia. My two younger brothers, two of the girls who lived next door on Myrtlewood Street; and me were shuttled off by our mothers that early Saturday evening. The ladies had plans of their own. We were shipped out to the movies. Man what a treat. Albeit we were all scared to death, afraid to leave the theatre on many other monster treated and frightful afternoons. I can remember running home, fearing the crossing of darkened alleyways along the route to the safe haven of the domicile. Vampires, Frankenstein’s Monster, Zombies, and Werewolves threatened to jump out and get us if we doddle and lagged behind.

The story, ‘War of the Worlds’ in the novel format takes the reader on a journey during the turn of the twentieth century in Britain. The Americanized movie version has it placed in Las Angeles with shots and scenes from around the globe.

The visionary Martian vessels were described as in the novel. They glowed the green lights and eerie screwing sounds of a mason jar unscrewing. The laser beam of instantaneous destruction managed to destroy and kill any and every living and non-living thing on the planet and in its path. The shadowy white dusty froth laden forms of human beings lay on the grounds and roadways of the countryside exit trails, hopefully leading to safety, played out in the book did make its ghostly presence on the big screen and in the book as well.

The movie version with Mr. Gene (Bat Masterson) Barry remains a classic; the traverse through the countryside of England uncovers a journey of epic endeavor, adventure, and excitement beyond the movie theatre.
“When Earth comes under siege from extraterrestrial invaders, the best and worst of mankind comes out among those struggling to survive.”

Mr. Wells was born in Bromley, Kent on September 21, 1866. He was called ‘Bertie’ by his family. His father was a shopkeeper who was previously a cricketer. After the business failed, his mother was forced to work as a domestic in the nearby country house of ‘Up-Park.’ She desired to return the family back to the middle-class status it had briefly enjoyed. Wells worked as a schoolteacher and a pharmacist. He also studied biology under Thomas Henry Huxley, a vociferous proponent of Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution. This gentleman made an extraordinary impression on him so much so that he returned to teaching completing his course studies and earned his degree. Wells went on with his mastery of the imagination and produced more thought provoking science fiction works in novel format and magazine periodicals as well as a couple of biology textbooks while working for the University Correspondence College.

“Herbert G. Wells published his first novel, The Time Machine to critical and popular acclaim in 1895. He became one of the most prolific writers of his generation. Mr. Wells has explored a vast variety of social, philosophical, and political I thoughts and ideas via the medium of what is described as science fiction.”

What happens when you wake up from a dream, a deeply remembered dream? You then realize that it was simply a dream… Time moves forward into your waking day when suddenly, the day is all that has previously transpired in your dream. Your dream has become your reality. So, which is which, the dream or the perceived reality?

 

…Can Anyone Decide Which Is True Or Which Is Not?

>

 

~”They Came In Three’s”~

 

Albeit, the eye-like beams spit forth a deadly white light of destruction. The lights also appeared to be of a green, red, and blue color; a blend of different colors. No one stopped to wonder why the death-dealing machines shined three of four different yet distinct colors. Everyone simply ran.

We all ran in many different directions…away from the approaching invaders. Petty neighborhood squabbles were long forgotten with this new threat, a threat that brought about an eerie uniting of the people. There was little need to call upon the Black Folks for a meeting. There was little need to call for a rally or a boycott…all we wanted to do now was live…”By Any Means Necessary!”

‘Dre’ and I thought we’d have a chance to get back to the house…no way. The machines were nearing the corner of Baynton Street now. The surviving buildings along the block were engulfed in flames and smoke. Hope for them was an impossibility.

The uphill run on Walnut Lane to Morton Street was always a challenging hike on any given day. However, on this night, it was a push over. The reality was that nothing or no one was going to impeed the progress of life-saving escape. The analogy of people turning into savages rang true as every one seemed to run over any one who could not keep up or get out of the way of the stampeding horde.

Any parked cars along the way were very lucky at getting out. It was highly improbable that the escapees would have had time to pack a bag. The thought occured when I noticed the absence of vehicles on the street that would normally be jockying for a parking spot. Thirst crept into my throat, taking away all the aforementioned thoughts that occupied my mind while running away from certain death. I peered briefly back over my right shoulder. To take a longer look could cause one to miss a step and fall down. A half-a-second was all I needed…it was all that it took to see the horrific, spine tingling, and blood curdling events unfolding behind us. It’s been said that the eye works just like a camera. The eye-lid works the same way as that of a lense shutter on any given image capturing device. It only took a split second to see the multi-colored death ray zapping people…first they freeze in their tracks, then the human body glows to a greenish-blue aura, revealing the skeletinal inner frame of the person being zapped…then the body vanishes; disappears! The proverbial description of “Crabs In a Barrell” was the order of the day. One dared not look back too long. We all kept on running.

We ran until we could run no more. We found ourselves walking briskly along with many people near the intersection of ‘Chew Avenue and Washington Lane.’ We didn’t know many of the folks whom who accompanied us on this newly found trek away from the Walnut Lane area. As everyone seemed to be migrating toward the train station just past Chew Avenue, there were hundreds more running from Upsal Street to our location. If people were attempting to board the SEPTA Trains, how many had money to pay, if they bothered to stop at the station? It had to be well past two in the morning by this time. We didn’t think about time with all this madness going on. But with time to stop and think for a moment, things of importance began to factor in. We had no food. We had no water. We had no transportation or communication. Another thought occured to me…remembering a conversation with the fellas at Gerry’s House, our place of catharsis after a long days work. We argued about what would or could happen if our country ever had to deal with an invasion. Remembering what happened with the “911 Tragedy” and the storms and hurricanes which devistated the southern regions, we all agreed on what would probably happen. If an invading force knocked out communication, transportation, and utility services, a country could fall victim to the invading entity. As I looked around, weighing our circumstances, the reality of our thesis has come to pass.

Some one in the crowd loudly stated that the lot across the street is a city emergency center. From my vantage point in the middle of Washington Lane, I could see the big white city trash collection vehicles parked within. The large lot held several other city vehicles as well. This location is a major City Trash Recycling and Transfer Station. It can accommodate a very large amount of people. The only question is, how can this facility take care of all these people who are in need of food, water, waste disposal, and many other needs. I saw women with young children and babies… The elderly were here along with the sick and injured. What could anyone do to take care of all these folks? The void of darkness was momentarily avoided for some with the use of flashlights, LED lights from the nearby train station, the low luster of the overhead city street-lighting, and the dying cell phones of many who had them; mostly the young.

People were sobbing and crying. The heartbreaking sounds of young children and babies crying really got to me. In the distance, you could hear the rumbling of the machines as they grew near. The white-greenish-blue-yellow-red lights glowed over the tops of trees and buildings along the Washington Lane corridor. Some people began to kneel and pray. Others watched with faces of stone-cold fear, eyes wide open; big like saucers. Many had the look of death on their faces. It’s a look that many meat workers have seen on the faces and in the eyes of the doomed cattle and other livestock caught in the shuttled chute of death. It’s the look, some say, of knowing that it’s your time to die.
Some of the so-called hard-core tough guys refused to show their fear because they were the intimidators of many, they packed weapons. They boasted of the ‘9mm’s, Glocks, and other hand-held weapons. These were the guys who could not afford to show fear or any sign of being a punk, reputation is all that mattered. The truth is, they were as afraid as everyone else. They held no power here. They had no one to sell their dope to…there was no one to intimidate. Their eyes gave them away… The machines got closer and closer…there was no where to go, no where to run…all hope is gone.

In the distance…one could almost hear it. A siren! A police siren! was it the siren of a fire-engine? Who cares…as long as they are coming to help them. The flood-lights of the facility were turned on as well. A city worker who lived nearby had access to the lot. It was he who had turned on the power. The people cheered loudly and joyfully. They rushed into the lot in hopes of gaining access to water and toilet accommodations. The sirens of the distance had arrived. They encountered difficulty in getting into the facility due to the masses of people crowding all over. The police car had to slowly nudge its way into the yard because people simply would not move. The space occupied by the masses was limited. The parked trucks and other vehicles needed to be moved in order for all to fit into the sheltered area. More sirens were heard in the distance. They were headed toward the Washington Lane Transfer Station too.

Along with the arrival of more police, the National Guard managed to get there as well. They were stationed at a nearby base located near Broad Street and Olney Avenue, just down the street from ‘Central High School.’ The trucks were loaded with water, milk, and food. They also stocked supplies for the elderly, sick, nursing mothers, and babies. The people were relieved. They praised their rescuers and thanked God. Seeing all this newly arriving help, the people began to gather themselves while regaining their composure.
The second police car turned into the driveway as the people managed to get out of the way. Then the first truck was able to pass into the waiting yard. The people’s cheering grew louder. The second truck began to turn into the drive when suddenly, it appeared as though the truck had set itself on fire…the ear-defeaning explosion sounded a split-second after the vehicle was alighted. Eerie sounding whistling was heard when the night-time became brightened with the brilliance of the alien invader’s killer ray beams. It seemed as if everything began to explode all around us!
The police could do nothing with this surprise attack. The national guard were helpless as well. The ones who escaped the exploded vehicles ducked for cover like everyone else. The problem is, there was no cover to be had. People, young and old, police, and guardsmen alike, died. They were alighted, alluminated til you could see there skeletal bones, and burned into invisibility.
Three floating vessels descended upon us from what seemed like every direction. The death ray beams screamed as they evaporated dozens upon dozens of innocent and the not so innocent into oblivion. I managed to grab ‘Dre’ just as he was about to go down. The man next to him had been zapped into dust just like the one on the other side of him. Another was zapped just as I pulled ‘Dre’ to me. We once again found ourselves running away from certain death.
screaming and crying people dashed all about. People were being trampled to death while trying to escape the death-dealing machines. Me and Dre got down on our hands and knees and began to crawl away, under and over bodies that had not been zapped but killed by the maddened, frightened crowd of “chickens in a barrel!”
Somehow, we managed to crawl our way back out into the middle of Washington Lane and across the street into the parking lot along side the train station. A train zoomed into the station as people attempted to stop the speeding behemoth of shining shimmering mass of metal. Unfortunately, those that attempted could not bring the track dependent vehicle to a stop. They all died in their folly.
The speeding train not only did not stop, it was burning inside. The vehicle was fully engulfed in flames as the riders inside were heard screaming when it passed. A second train followed inside of fifteen minutes after the aforementioned death-ride. It too was fully engulfed in flames as it sped past us on the platform.

The invading death machines drew closer as we rolled over into the tracks after the burning train has passed. I pushed Dre further down the tracks and under the dark dirty muddy platform. I really didn’t expect him to complain when he started to whine and cuss.

“Shut up fool…I’m trying to save both our lives!”

The death machines zapped all and any that it could find and/or see. One could only assume that the machines had annilhilated everyone due to the eerie quiet that followed the zapping noises. We could hear the familiar clanking, clunking, grinding, and stomping noise as the floating marauders floated off in search of new targets.
Miraculously, some of the people did survive the attack just outside of this station. It seems that everyone in the neigborhood didn’t come out of their homes because they weren’t all destroyed.
The sky-scrapper building tall spider-walking machine was still on location. It did something that we, Dre and I, were not aware of. All who were not killed in the attack of the three floating killer machines, were left behind for the walker-machine to pick up. Skullking along, it had these elongated octopuss-like feeler arms that reached out and grabbed people who were reeling from the attack of the floaters. These feeler-arms reached out and grabbed the stragglers, lifting them up high, and placing them in a basket-like recepticle or retainer. We could see this all happening from the cracks and splits under the train platform. We could see all of the activity on the Washington Lane and Chew Avenue intersection. Unfortunately, there were still a lot of people left to be had by the invaders from I don’t know where.

We could hear the captured people screaming from above. The walker-machine rumbled as it moved, gathering up people who ran in any direction that seemed safe. Dre and I stayed put under the platform. When the walker-machine crashed and crumpled its way over and through the surrounding buildings and gas station, it walked over the train station twice, as though it were looking for us. The platform came crashing down on us. We were pinned under the wood, metal, plastic, and other materials of the construction. Somehow, the machine did not find us. It lumbered on through the woodlands surrounding the Washington Lane vacinity. The group of death dealers appeared to be headed for the Stenton Avenue neighborhoods.

Dre and I managed to free ourselves and crawl out from beneath the destroyed platform rubble. We were more thirsty than before. Our throats felt as it we’d swallowed concrete from all of the dust floating in the air. The dusty surroundings were like that of a bombed out war zone…like New York, the day the planes flew into the ‘Twin Towers.’ We looked like the people on television who all looked like walking zombies, covered in concrete, plaster, and dust from all of the destruction. We had no idea of what we were going to do. Upon gazing all about, we decided to go back across the street and see if we could dig up some water from the bombed out trucks.
Fortunately, we were succesful in attaining some unscathed bottles of water and scattered bits and pieces of food packages. We gorged ourselves on our new found delicacy. With cleared thoughts and a real sense of awareness for danger, we decided to make our way back to Walnut Lane in hopes of recovering something we could use to aid in our survival. Obviously, the new found fortune most certainly would not be enough to sustain us for God knows how long, in this vast wilderness. The first thing we had to do, after eating, is to rest up a bit. There’s no way we were going to get any sleep. Sleep? Where would we, could we, go to get a good nights sleep? Sleep would certainly be an impossibility this horrible night.

The Sun was crossing the horizon when we awoke. I haven’t a clue as to how we managed to sleep through all the carnage surrounding us during the night. Opening my eyes to a new day, it seems as though all this was simply a dream, a strange nightmare of sorts. My vision began to focus. Hell no. It was no fucking dream.
Reaching out to my right, I shook Dre awake. He jumped up in one hell of a fright…”What the fuck is going on Russell? Where in the fuck are we Man? Where in the hell is everybody? Why are we lying under all this nasty shit?” “Ouch, shit!”
After bumping his head, Dre’s memory, the reality of it all, returned and made him understand.

We crawled out from under the debris of the train station, and made our way back towards home. We stood and saw it all, a vast and sprawling nothing. Everything had been laid to waste. As far as the eye could see, there was utter and complete nothingness. There were several dead bodies lying about. They were probably the ones who didn’t get or caught by the dangling octopus tenticles of the walking machines. Off in the distance, we could see a few of the walkers over in the direction of ‘Chelten Avenue.’ When we turned to look northward, in the direction of ‘Mt. Airy,’ we saw two of them walking about and continuing to reap in an unwary soul. The gaze east caught the eerie dust cloud of the ones that blew through here last night. We focused our gaze westward, up to the crest of the hill on Washington Lane, at ‘Musgrave Street.’ We saw only dust clouds from the destruction of homes and other buildings. Automobiles burned under the rubble as well. Gas-mains burned continually. Electric wires sparked and danced in every direction while they lay undaunted upon the blacktop roadways covered in ashe, burning wood, and other exposed building materials.

Dre and I walked up the hill on ‘Belfield Avenue’ past ‘Tulpehocken Street’ to the east side of ‘Walnut Lane.’ Pushing onward, up the hill of the lane, we finally arrived at the top, ‘Morton Street.’ Crossing Morton, the hill descended into the ‘Germantown Avenue’ corridor right after ‘Baynton Steet’ and the unit block of Walnut Lane; home.

 

~”Where Is Everybody?”~

 

Every house on Walnut Lane was demolished. Our place was no exception. However, the house didn’t collapse into the cellar. The windows of the basement suggeste that we could get in via that window or the back door. All of the rubble from the collapsed buildings seemed to fall outward into the street and surroundings, not inward onto themselves.
If we could get in and recover as much of the essentials needed, the better. Food and water was at the top of the list. We could see that there was no way to gain entry into the kitchen because the debris piled directly down onto the concrete foundation of the structure. Making our way around back, to the back door of the basement, we were relieved to find the door and frame still intact. We were able to gain entrance into the basement if nowhere else in the premises.
After our entry, we were absolutley correct in our assumption, we could not reach anywhere else, to our dismay. I remembered the meal we planned on the night of the invasion. It was laid out perfectly. A meal made to order…

Knowing that we could not regain the groceries stocked in the refrigerator. We rumbbled around underneath the destroyed house to see what we could gather. A couple of flashlights were still on the shelf from when we worked on the hotwater heater not long ago. There were also flares and buckets of citronila that could be lit at night…as there would probably be no lighting fixtures about. We could shoot a game of pool, the pool-table was still intact. Most of the things in stored in the basement were useless for our survival in this new found frontier, a new wilderness.

While we walked back to the house, Dre had a suggestion to stop in and see what we could get from the bombed-out corner grocery stores. There were a few of them around the neighborhood. There was a “stop-n-go” at the corner of Washington Lane and Chew, another at Tulpehockon and Morton, at Walnut Lane and Baynton, and many more all around the area to be had.

“Dre, don’t you think that I’d thought about that possibility. What about survivors, Bro.?”

“Russell, man, this is a situation that highly suggests that every man is now out for themselves…no one is going to give a damn about me and you.”

“I hear ya Homes, but don’t you remember what we saw on the way back here?”

There were pockets of people who were either completely missed in the attack and/or those who simply crawled out from under piles of destruction debris because they were unaware of what has happened and are now seeking some type of aid, food, water, shelter, and probably live-saving assistance from a medical professional or hospital. The landscape, upon their re-emergence from the pile of train-station rubble, was completely desimated. Survivors who managed to elude or somehow manage to escape death or capture, wandered all about like the zombies we so often laughed at in movies or on television.
I wondered, would we ever see a movie again or be able to watch television shows from our living-rooms, basements,or bed-rooms?

“Dre, the reality is we’ve got to get the hell out of here…and soon. The walking machines will probably be coming back this way and I for one do not want to be here when they do. What about you?”

“Yeah Bro., let’s get the hell out of here…I’ll carry what little we’re taking with us. It’s a damned shame that we can’t get upstairs to the ‘Frige…’ Damn…all that food going to waste.”

Once outside, the two close friends pondered over what direction to take in hopes of locating shelter, sustainance, or other people who could help them. Gazing all around, in every direction, they decided to firts go around to the 14th Police District. Maybe there are some cops there that could offer some sort of guidance. However, from where they were standing, one could see as far as Chelten Avenue without the use of binoculars. The 14th District Headquarters was on the way to that particular location. It, the building, was not there. There were no familiar standing structures to be seen at all. The ‘Town Hall’ building was gone as well as all of the buildings that aligned both sides of Germantown Avenue from the 58th, 59th, 60, and 6100 blocks of the avenue once called the “Great Road.” Everything was laid to waste. Nothing but rubble and debris. Russell and I looked at each other and decided to go and take a look anyway, there might be something there that we could use.

We could see dirt and dust being kicked up by some of the residents who survived the attack. You really had to look closely at thier faces in order to recognize any of the poor wretches who wandered aimlessly about. Several of the neighbors, recognizable and not, were crying and carrying the bodies of dead babies. Others wept over thier elderly and other kin-folk who went missing or had been killed. The hardest thing to witness was the children who now had no one to care for them…thier parents gone and no next of kin to look after them. Russell and I had to keep moving.

We combed meticulously through the rubble at the once standing 14th District building and found a few things…one of the most important items was a radio…a “police ban walkie-talkie!”

The bombed out building of the 14th yeilded a few other goodies as well. One of the first things that caught our attention was the fact that, in spite of just about evrey room of the structure was utterly and completely destroyed, the only room that was still intact was the men’s restroom. This room sat right next to the radio central control room just inside of the main reception area of the building.

“Impressive…the shit-house is the only thing standing in this whole heap of shit!” said Dre.

“I hear ya Homes, when was the last time you took a dump?” asked Russell.

“Yesterday before all this crap came about.”

“Well I’m here to tell ya man, I’m heading for the dump-room right now!”

“Russell, you know that your shit probably won’t go anywhere, the toilets most likely will not flow without water pressure.” Dre warned.

The toilet did flush and the water system supplied enough water for them to fill up bottles and three canteens recovered from the basement of thier house. Albeit, the water system was flowing, the piping was busted at several ends of the building. Water flowed freely from the broken and twisted metal tubing that seemed to stick out from everwhere. This would help many of the straglers who happened to cross this way in search of water.

“Okay Bro., lets do this…” Dre said to Russell.

Russell turned on one of the three ‘walkie-talkies’ and got instant results. The damned thing squelched and squacked until they were able to get a clear enough signal. The voices were all screaming at one another. They held warnings and orders as well. Commanders shouted orders to subordinants while reports of continuing attacks and destruction from the floating machines and that of the walkers.
It seemed that the current attacks were taking place in the North-Central areas of the city. Evacuations were under way for all the areas that haven’t yet been invaded. Directions were given for displaced persons to gather at ‘Philadelphia’s City Hall Courtyard, downtown; and those further south, to make thier way to the sports arenas on “Patterson Avenue.”
The voices were heard to say to responding officers to remain calm and to aid in the calming every person contacted, help is on the way.
The voices continued speaking. They were telling responding officers that the National Guard, and othe major military forces were being deployed and are on the way, if they hadn’t arrived already. The voices said for them to remain calm and in control…”Help Is On The Way!”

 

~”All Points Due South”~

 

All around the place, there was nothing but building debris and the occassional strangely shaped ashe. The ashen forms, me and Dre did see before. We didn’t really pay it any real attention because we were quite busy trying to keep our asses from being zapped and or captured. But the reality of it all was that it was time to face the reality… We became alarmingly aware that those forms of strange shaped dust patterns were the remains of human bodies. We’d seen these forms on the streets and roadways, all the way here and throughout this location as well.
The white ashen forms didn’t portray whether being male or female, ordinary citizen or members of the law enforcement community. They were simply yet horribly the remains of the dead, zapped into powdered forms of dust.
We only saw two or three bodies in blue uniforms, peeking through the cracks and crevices of the rubble that entombed them.
Russell and I ventured outside of the fallen building into the area that was once its’ parking lot. We’d hope to recover a vehicle or two that might provide us transportation. As luck would have it, several vehicles were spared the collapse of the building. However, how were we to get them out from all the other wood, brick, and mortar that was spread far and wide inside and outside of this parking lot and the streets beyond from the other buildings?

Death and dead things were everywhere. The helpless zombified victims walked and milled about, clueless as to what it is they are supposed to do. The voices on the walkie-talkie became more clear once we were outside of the implodded structure. The voices of police and military command barked forth instruction for eveyone in the city to converge on the center city area… It reiterated its’ instructions for those in the far south and west of the city to head toward the sports arena areas. We began to tred southward as we listened in on the radio transmissions.

Dre and I attempted to speak to the voices over the hand-held devices.

“Breaker, Breaker! This is a civilian citizen attempting rescue for folks in the north-west region and close point thereabout… Can you read me? …Over!”

Me and Dre waited for a response to out radio request. The damned thing spit and squawked back an answer.

“No citizens are allowed to transmit over police and military radio bans…get off the airway and contact a designated official at once!” barked the voice.

“Well I’ll be damned…did you hear that shit Dre? Do you believe this asshole? Is he fuckin crazy or what?”

I barked sternly into the mic of the radio device.

“Now you listen here you asshole son of a bitch…we are stranded civilians in need of assistance and immediate evacuation…there aren’t any fuckin officials, they’re all fuckin dead! If you’d like to talk to one of them who happens to be a pile of white dust, I’ll hold the God-damned radio to it so that it can hear you – STUPID! …Over!”

The voice replied, “Sorry son, we’re really all fucked up out here…sorry for your situation. As far as we know, sevreral battalions have been deployed throughout the cities on both sides of the river, Philly and Jersey. We haven’t heard a word from anywhere else at present…if you can, I’d advise you and your party to make your way southward toward center city…that’s were there will be supplies, medical aid, and possible evacuation available. We don’t know anything about what’s going on beyong the Mt. Airy and Chestnut Hill Regions. No news has been received from them at this point. Do the best you can to travel…we’ve been informed that all power, communication, and transportation has been halted and/or destroyed by these unidentified invaders. …See ya when you get here, Son. …Over and Out!”

Walking and stepping over the dead and the walking dead, Dre and I had made it as far as ‘Wister Street and Germantown Avenue,’ while listening to the communication and its’ instructions. We’d somehow seemed to have formed a bit of a gathering, a following horde of lost souls. These poor individuals assumed that we knew where to go and how to get there. Yeah, we were making an attempt to follow the instructions of the radio voice, but reluctantly. The hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up…I suddenly got a sense of the ‘willies.’ Dre could tell that I was feeling a bit uneasy with the trek south and the horde of wayward, wandering followers who have made chosen to make them point guards for the homeless. We continued to lead the way southward, straight down the avenue.

Nearing ‘Hunting Park Avenue,’ just beyond ‘Wayne-Junction Train Station,’ the air was suddenly filled with the scream of fighter jets and Blackhawk Helicopters. They appeared to be converging on the ‘Broad Street and Erie Avenue’ vacinity. We could here sirens in the distance as well. How the cops were getting around was a mystery within itself, we were lead to believe all the roadways throughout the region were covered and blocked with collapsed buildings and other material. Suddenly an alarm sounded. It was like an alarm that we haven’t heard in years… It was one of those civil defense alarms, like the ones we used to hear in grade school…like the ones our parents used to talk about durin a black-out during the war.
We could hear explosions and gunfire in the distance too. A greenish-blue-white haze appeared on the horizon heading south. Visibility wasn’t all that bad when an occassional clearing happened as the wind blew. We could see straight across the hilly region from where we were standing, near what used to be the post office on the south side of Hunting Park Avenue. A rather large Baptist Church used to stand on the other side of the street also.

Hunting Park Avenue at Germantown Avenue was suddenly filled with the sound of warfare. From somewhere over the crest of the hill, one of the floating machines appeared. It seemed to come from right out of the ground…from the bigh hole in the street that used to be occupied by the “Simon Gratz High School!” It was of course, gone. Then another one appeared right behind the first one. It seemed to be riding on its coat-tail, in a tandem sort of fashion. A third one appeared right after the second vessel. It too was floating in tandem as the yellowish-green glow of its center eye; atop the long-necked attachment to a boomeranged-shaped floating body of shiny chromed metal with two greenish-blue death ray beams at either end; began to shoot forth its zapping light-rays. The target was anything moving…anything and anything in sight!

 

~’Farmland, A Skippack Retreat?’~

 

…Washington’s retreat to “Skippack Farms!”

I remember reading about that in a book or story written by a Philadelphia writer originally from “Germantown.” Then I thought of a TV-Show, a series, about a bunch of zombies on the attack for fresh human flesh to eat. And then I thought to myself, why the fuck am I thinking about that shit when my life, our lives are in deep jeopardy in the present? In one of the bags we took from the police station, was a pair of binoculars. I took a closer look towards the Broad and Erie area, to my fright, I gathered up our supplies and grabbed Dre by the arm and shouted, “Come on Man, we’ve got to get the hell out of here…all of you people need to run and run fast…GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE NOW! GO BACK THE OTHER WAY!”

Now I knew why I remembered that television show about the zombies; the call was to make your way to a so-called central zone to be safe and rescued from danger. Bullshit…I wasn’t about to go to one “Hot-LZ” for another because some friendly voice was telling me too. We were turning around and heading back north…to hell with the going south.

The floating machines rose up out of that hole like demons from hell. The first one floated up and its’ yellow-glowing eye attached to an elongated neck scanned the area. The fiendish noise yeilded an echoish sound effect that reverberated throughout the immediate listening area. It actaully had the ability to drive one utterly mad…to a level of pure fright and insanity. The thing floated and scanned. It floated and scanned…and then began firing its’ death rays. The beastly metalic thing fired on any and everything in sight. It didn’t need to see its victims. It seemed to be able to sense their presence within the structures being fired upon. It’s also quite possible that the damned things were firing on the buildings simply because they existed.
As the invader continued its firing, another rose up out that hole from hell, right behind the first one. It too began firing at random. And then, a third joined thier ranks and began firing all about. The three of them were at first floating in tandom. They floated out from behind one another and seemed to touch or join the tips of their vessels, three in a row. Then they changed positions again with one in the lead as the remaining two floated just behind on either flank.

We didn’t wait for them to catch up with us. We ran straight back up Germantown Avenue. While we hustled along, the damned thought occured once again. The story from our local author, regarding “George Washington’s Retreat” from Philly to the “Skippack Farms” area in Montgomery County. The neighborhood was already desimated, so why would the machines want to return to our neck of the woods?
Running and jumping over dead bodies and dusty remains of human beings that have been zapped, we were making good time heading up “The Great Road.” The people who began to follow us to the south, followed us again toward regions north. Behind us, the war was fully engulfed. America’s War Machines were pitted against theirs in what appeared to be hosting a campaign of futile endeavor. They were quite simply getting their bloody asses kicked!
The cannons, tanks, and other fire-power of the local ‘National Guard’ and the cops, were not hitting their targets. The explosives seemed to be exploding all around them…a dome, a blister, a bubble, if you will, appeared at almost every blast or explosion surrounding the floating machines. They simply returned fire at just about every defender in sight. The death rays melted the metal war machines while evaporating all souls inside.
One could hear the battle from miles around. The waging battles ensuing ferociously at these two known locations. Suddenly we could hear more of the reverberating effects of floating machines coming in our direction from the west. In hopes of not being seen by the monsters, we ducked into and under the remains of destroyed buildings and other large objects along the way. The rays were blasted in our direction. We moved quite a bit faster as the mahines seemed to take thier sweet-ole time in chasing us, if that were the case. None of the machines appeared to move at a fast pace. They moved slowly and methodically. They moved as it they didn’t give a damn…arrogantly; as if nothing could hurt them. They moved as if they were invincible.

By the time we reached The Chelten Avenue area, there were dozens of people behind us and all around us as well. The survivors of the first wave of death and destruction were busy scavenging the remains of neighborhood stores and partially standing homes. Many of them didn’t even bother to notice us as we passed. However, when that eerie noise from the machines reached their ears, they froze in fright. More machines were seen traveling west to east on Chelten Avenue. Survivors immediately stopped what they were doing and began to ‘haul-ass’ away from the death-dealing metal assasins. A group of machines were again spotted approaching from east to west along the ‘Armat Street’ corridor. I don’t think one has to be a “rocket-scientist” to figure out that we have been spotted and were being encircled in a vicious snare, a trap!

 

~’Starvation’ – “My Brother’s Keeper”~

 

“It’s not possible that this is happening to us…we the people of the United States of America!” Who is looking out for us? Where oh where are our governmental leaders? Where are they?

Seeing and experiencing this catastrophe, reminded me of footage I’v seen on television broadcasts of people; survivors of earthquakes, twisters, and hurricanes…bombeb-out war zones! Footage of this sort was broadcast on a regualar basis via the news media, PBS, and many information venues.

Veterans often reminded those of us within ear-shot, of the tragedies witnessed and created by participants, voluntary or not, of war campaigns. The conversation often surrounded current events that have befallen us. Hurricanes have desimated the southern regions of the country as well as the surrounding Carribean and Latino Islands.
We’ve found it interesting how the southern regions, damned near simultaneously received disaster funds and relief while the Puerto Rican Islands and those inhabited by people of color, got a “foot-dragging” and explanations of how and why aid couldn’t get to them.

Headlines from newspapers found floating on the wind, along the war-torn streets of ‘Germantown’ as we trod along; was seen to read:

“Donald Trump Refuses to Send More Aid to Puerto Rico, Citing Business Interests”
https://www.yahoo.com/news/donald-trump-refuses-send-more-195456324.html
Chris Riotta, Newsweek

“Donald Trump has made it clear his administration isn’t planning to allow any additional outside aid to get into Puerto Rico in the wake of Hurricane Maria.

Speaking with reporters on Wednesday afternoon, the president cited business interests as the reason for refusing calls from lawmakers and activists to allow international organizations and governments to ship aid to the island.

Trump said he was initially considering whether to implement a temporary waiver of the Jones Act to allow it, but decided against doing so as “a lot of people that work in the shipping industry…don’t want the Jones Act lifted.”

Also called the Merchant Marine Act of 1920, the Jones Act requires all goods shipped between American ports to be on ships built, owned and operated in the United States.

The refusal to work with intergovernmental networks eager to supply aid to the devastated island was then echoed by Trump’s Department of Homeland Security. “Based on consultation with other federal agencies,” spokesman David Lapan said Wednesday, “DHS’s current assessment is that there is sufficient numbers of U.S.-flagged vessels to move commodities to Puerto Rico.”

The department did waive the Jones Act to aid Houston and parts of Florida that were ravaged by hurricanes Harvey and Irma. Senator John McCain, who has repeatedly fought to repeal the act, slammed the Department of Homeland Security for failing to extend the same relief efforts to Puerto Rico that it provided to parts of the mainland United States.

“It is unacceptable to force the people of Puerto Rico to pay at least twice as much for food, clean drinking water, supplies and infrastructure due to Jones Act requirements as they work to recover from this disaster,” the Republican McCain wrote in a letter to the department on Tuesday. “Now, more than ever, it is time to realize the devastating effect of this policy and implement a full repeal of this archaic and burdensome Act.”

Proponents of the Jones Act say that without it, the country would be forced to rely on cheaper international ships operated by foreign workers and put American vessels in a more crowded and less efficient shipping environment.

Temporarily waiving the Jones Act for Puerto Rico “would take American first responders out of the loop and replace them with Filipino or Russian or Chinese crews,” Michael Roberts, senior vice president and general counsel at Crowley Maritime Corporation, told The Wall Street Journal Wednesday. “Doing that at a time when many U.S. mariners in this region have had their homes damaged, their lives uprooted and now they need to work, to take that away is not something you want to do.”

Proponents of the Jones Act say that without it, the country would be forced to rely on cheaper international ships operated by foreign workers and put American vessels in a more crowded and less efficient shipping environment.

Temporarily waiving the Jones Act for Puerto Rico “would take American first responders out of the loop and replace them with Filipino or Russian or Chinese crews,” Michael Roberts, senior vice president and general counsel at Crowley Maritime Corporation, told The Wall Street Journal Wednesday. “Doing that at a time when many U.S. mariners in this region have had their homes damaged, their lives uprooted and now they need to work, to take that away is not something you want to do.””

It’s amazing how we can remember things that were taken for granted…it could never happen to me was the order and mind-set of the times. War is the order of the day…’North Korea’ will not back down; ‘Iran’ and ‘Iraq’ are both anxious witeh unexpected anticipation as to what this new regime will do next in upsetting “World Peace” and causing an end to us all via a ‘Nuclear Holocaust!’

People from ‘New Orleans’ were and have continued to suffer homelessness and displacement for more than five or six years after their hurricane disaster. The folks who were damaged by the “911 Attack” are still realing from continued turmoil and false promises from the ‘powers that be.’ And yet, again, “it couldn’t happen to us!”

 

Prologue:

“No one would have believed that in the middle of the (twentieth/twenty-first) century that human affairs are being watched keenly and closely by intelligences’ greater than man.
Yet, across the gulf of space on the planet ‘Mars,’ intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic regarded our ‘Earth’ with envious eyes…slowly and surely drawing their plans against us.
‘Mars’ is more than one hundred and forty million miles fron the ‘Sun‘…and for centuries has been in the last stages of exhaustion.
At night, temperatures drop far below zero even at its’ equator. The inhabitants of this dying planet, looked across space with instruments and intelligence of which we have scarcely dreamed; searching for another world which they could migrate…

They could not go to “Pluto;” outer most of the small planets and so cold, its’ atmosphere lies frozen upon its’ surface. They couldn’t go to “Neptune” or “Uranus,” twin worlds in eternal night and perpetual cold, both surrounded by un-breathable gas and ammonia vapors.

The “Martians” considered “Saturn,” an attractive world with its many moons and beautiful rings of cosmic dust – but its’ temperatures are close to two hundred and seventy degrees below zero and ice lies fifteen thousand miles deep on its’ surface

Their nearest world was giant “Jupiter,” where volcanic-titanic tips of molten lava, laced with hydrogen rises flaming to the top where atmospheric pressure is terrible; thousands of pounds per square inch…they couldn’t go there. Nor could they go to “Mercury,” the nearest planet to the “Sun”…it has no air; the temperature at it equator is that of molten lead.

Of all the worlds that the intelligences on “Mars” could see and study, only our own warm “Earth,” green with vegetation, ripe with water and possessed a kindly atmosphere eloquent of fertility.
It did not occur to ‘Mankind’ that a swift fate might be hanging over us or that from the firmness of ‘black-space’ that we might be scrutinized and studied until the time of our nearest approach to the orbit of “Mars” during the pleasant summer season…”

…AS Narrated By:
~ Sir H. G. Wells, Mr. Orson Welles, Sir Cedric Hardwicke, and Mr. Morgan Freeman ~

 

Thank you for joining the trip…enjoying the read…

 

Til Next Time…

 

‘G’

 

Epilogue (The Ending?):

Next…

Chapter 7: “Desolation”

 

Stay Tuned For The Release Of This Adventure, In Its’ Entirety!

In The Soon To Be Released, In The New Upcoming Volume of “HALLOW III”

 

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http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=290777&cid=10

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*/

 

/*

‘HALLOWEEN HORRORS and FRIGHT STORIES for 2016’

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=299011&cid=10

“Underfoot”
The pounding noise would not stop. I had to find a way to make it stop. Don’t you understand? It had to stop. It began to pound loudly. It was too loud…very loud! Do you not hear it? It’s driving me mad, mad I tell you. Through the crack in the floor the orb peered out.
http://thetattletaleunderfoot.blogspot.com/

“Howl Of An angel”
Watching, listening, and remembering all of the things that actually matter in this aging process. One would have you believe that aging is an honor, while on the other hand, a burden on society – the burden being money. How are we going to feed and care for the elderly? Do we do a bamboozling act on them by implementing the “Logan’s Run” theory?
http://howlofanangel.blogspot.com/

“HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED!”
“Demon’s Throat”
“I remember this familiar feeling, for about the third time in three months; of falling – falling down. The falling only came to an end for one reason – maybe two. The point is…I was able to grab onto something in order to break my fall. The primary reason is coming to a complete and utter dead end stop – at the bottom of the stairway, which began at the second floor landing. It didn’t necessarily matter to what position your body was in when this complete and utter stop completed the descent. Albeit, stair-steps and bottom of the stairway landings come into play, the stop is at the bottom of the stairs.”
http://demonsthroathallow.blogspot.com/
Me and Walter had five kids, ya know.”
(Read the Unabridged, Uncensored Version)
http://koobug.com/GregoryVB_Author?p2992

“When There’s No More Room In Hell”
My name is Salestian Michaels. I’m currently employed by the ‘Philadelphia Sunny Globe Newspaper Organization and International News Network.’ I was born and raised in South Philly, the heart and soul of ‘Mafiosi Life.’ Angel Brondidi and Nick the Needle ran it all when they weren’t at odds with one another.
I was there when Captain Willis Samuel and National Forestry Service Ranger Commander Gerald Glenn confronted and eradicated the monster beast in the park. I didn’t like Glenn very much, although I admired him. He was damn good at what he did. It was his woman that I liked…loved and wanted.
http://nomoreroominhellwhen.blogspot.com/

“The Pendulum of Hades”
Fate was issuing from the lips of the black-robed men. What an expression of firmness and immovable resolution? My lord, the grotesqueness! The faces blazed with stern contempt of human nature. Fate continued, in his view, issuance from their lips. He saw them writhe with deadly locution. I shuddered to think what the man saw. The idea of delirious horror…
Can you imagine the thought of him seeing angelical form? Some of the forms having heads of flaming spectres haunted his very soul. He had hopes of receiving help. He thought of sweet rest – in the grave. What peace there must be…in the grave? The thought came to him gently.
Silence, stillness, and darkness would contain such peace.
http://thependulumofhades.blogspot.com/

“Bowery of The Crimson Frock and Flesh”
By complete and utter observation, this opportunity allows the portrayal of the higher powers of the reflective intellect. Men and women of the highest order of intellect have been known to take an (apparently) unaccountable delight in their special analytical abilities; which a proficiency implies the capacity for success in all important understanding where mind versus mind.
“This Evening, Extra Ordinary Murders Have Been Discovered!”
The newspaper’s report stated inhabitants, at about 3a.m., of the ‘Quarter St. Roch,’ were aroused from their beds by blood-curdling screams and shrieks from the upper floors. On the fourth floor of the Rue Morgue, therein resided Madame L’Espanaye and her daughter, Mademoiselle Camille L’Espanaye. They were the sole occupants of the flat, not mention, the entire building.
The thick oozing gore dripped from the razor’s blade tip, down to the carpeted floor. The small puddle of crimson colored fluid began to grow into a larger pool, indicating it hasn’t been dripping very long.
http://boweryofthecrimsonfrockandflesh.blogspot.com/

‘Bowery of The Crimson Frock and Flesh’ Part Two: “The Wedding Party”
“They were lured with grapes, champagne, and laudanum. And then they were all euthanized.” The inspector spoke in trance-like sentences. “They were transported and dumped.”
The inspector began interviewing professional men. He spoke with doctors, dentists, taxidermists, veterinarians, surgeons, barbers, and butchers to the disapproval, chagrin, and dismay of Scotland Yard High Officials.
http://parttwotheweddingparty.blogspot.com/

‘Bowery of The Crimson Frock and Flesh’
‘Isle Manhattan’
“The Changeling – Loup Garou”
Part Three:
‘A Significant Era of Perceptive Aroma and Vision’
“Even a man, who is pure of heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the ‘Wolfsbane’ blooms and the Autumn Moon is bright.”
http://blackhistory.com/content/286940/a-significant-era-of-perceptive-aroma-and-vision

“ALL HALLOWS NIGHT” – SHORT STORY IRONY
They believed that they saw the Forrest moving! “There is Movement In The Wood!” Suddenly, the tower guards spotted a showing of arms and war power.
The battle bell rang!
The king of Hell was a giant among giants. The owner of the Souls of Sinners, Supreme Ruler of the Damned, displayed three faces. In each mouth of one of the faces showed teeth anointed in blood; blood so thick and ample, it dripped of foam.
http://gboulwareallhallowsnight.blogspot.com/

“SHAMAN”
They were not aware of the trouble that was amiss. Emergency vehicles were parked at the spot where the body of Lindsey Irvin lay at the bottom of the twelve hundred ft. drop from the cliff of the Strawberry Mansion roadway and bridge surface.
“The Colored Man was chased and treed in the woods in or near the Robert Faddis Woods near Youngsburg. The Black Man tried to shoot himself in the head, but failed. They took the Black Man to the hospital were his injuries were treated. A gang of white men broke the window in the main hallway, corralled the police officer guarding him and dragged the Black Man from his sick bed to the Sarah Jane Newland Farm just to the right of the road and almost directly opposite the farmhouse. In a grass field about fifty feet from the road, they gathered dried Chestnut Rails and old fencing to build a fire. It took all of three minutes to get the fire up to a height of ten feet or more. They asked him if he had any last words…he didn’t.
http://shamanretold.blogspot.com/

“The Foxy Grandpa, Billy the Poet”
“The folks who understood science agreed that folks oughta stop making so many babies and
the folks who understood morals agreed that society would collapse if people used s*x for
nothing but pleasure.”
“The people who have been most eager to rule, to make the laws, to enforce the laws and to tell everybody exactly how God wants things to be here on Earth – these people have forgiven themselves and their friends for anything and everything. But, they have been absolutely disgusted and terrified by the natural s*xuality of common men and women.”
http://thefoxygrandpabillythepoet.blogspot.com/

‘The Rails, Some Hemp, and A Hanging’
The company had its share of ‘shiner’s’ on both sides of the war-torn fences. Their horses bayed and pranced in the cold damp yet dark beginning of the day’s morn. My hanging tribunal was short and to the point. My foolish guilt could not be reversed, albeit, my hatred for these ‘Blue-Coats’ and their Black supporters surpasses my pain and sorrowful agony. I do long for the fragrance and joys of home… My dear sweet ‘Abbey,’ my darling wife and young’uns; my plantation and memories of France cut at my brain.
In France I was broke, poor, and penniless… Here in South Louisiana, I have become rich, powerful, and wholesome. I have more than a hundred acres of land manned by two-hundred and eighty-five of the best young and strong Black livestock in the territory. Four hundred head of cattle graze on my lands. The farmyard houses chickens, geese, ducks, pork, and several dozen head of living horse flesh along with a few dogs and cats. I am a very wealthy man indeed.
http://therailssomehempandahanging.blogspot.com/

The Acrimonious, Gauche, and Incongruous
‘Ajantala’
“Heigh! I’ve never seen a woman give birth to such a terrible baby as this one!” screamed the suffering woman.
And when he took the soap and sponge and washed from himself all the blood and goo away from his body, he wrapped himself in an article of clothing owned by his mother. He then sat upright atop a high stool and looked at the people. He looked into everyone’s eyes with his ungrateful red eyes.
“Ha! I am badly hungry for food. What can I eat now?” He then started to sniff the sweet smell of food which was inside the room nearest his mother’s room.
But when they were about to start to eat the food and drink the kolas, Ajantala unexpectedly jumped up high and pierced one of the people with a sharp iron spike.
But to their horror, when they were about to announce the name which his father, the hunter, wished the old ones to name him, the baby himself announced very loudly and clearly to the masses, “My name is ‘Ajantala,’ the Shrine, the Rock from Heaven, and there is no need to give me another!”
http://theajantala.blogspot.com/

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https://authorcentral.amazon.com/gp/profile
http://www.authorsden.com/gregoryvboulware

And

“Twitter”
https://twitter.com/#!/AuthorBoulwareG
https://twitter.com/hashtag/BoulwareBooks?src=hash

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

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/*

George Washington’s Letter to the Sultan of Morocco, 12.1.1789, New York City.

http://www.mountvernon.org/digital-encyclopedia/article/morocco/

 

~”Washington’s Plea to the Sultan of Morocco In The Americas”~

download.Sultan of Morocco1789_4.12.16

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

 

‘Washington’s Letter of Plea to The Black Sultan of Morocco’ provides more proof that The Black Man was in the land’s identified as ‘The United States of America!’ Oh Yes, We Were Here First!

 

“It gives me Pleasure to have this Opportunity of assuring your Majesty that, while I remain at the Head of this Nation, I shall not cease to promote every Measure that may conduce to the Friendship and Harmony, which so happily subsist between your Empire and them.”

~George Washington~

 

…Continued From The Article:

“Coat of Arms”

http://blackhistory.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=292074&cid=10  

George Washington wrote a letter pleading with the ‘Sultan of Morocco’ for permission to reside and engage in commerce in the ‘Americas without being destroyed!’ The letter is dated December 1st, 1789, as recorded and archived in New York City. This shows the ruling culture of the Americas during that era. Oh yes, ruled and governed by Black People, the sovereign body of the land.

download.ArmouredKingJames_4.12.16

https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=king%20james%20coat%20of%20arms  

 

~ Who Are The Moors–Jabbar Gaines El, Civil Alert Radio – www.Moorishsociety.com ~

 

King JamesVIandI:

‘A Black King of Moorish Descent’

https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=black+king+james+history

Published on Jun 10, 2013

A brief history video and Biblical scriptures regarding the true King James VI who descended from a ruling line of black Kings and Queens in Europe; which began after the defeat of Rome in 193 AD. The Black ruling monarchs lasted until The Renaissance Period roughly 1500 – 1600. James commissioned Hebrew Israelites to translate the records & history of a biblical people into what is now known as “The Kings James 1611 Bible.”

134.3.BlackKingJames_4.12.16

 

Images of Black King James:

https://www.google.com/search?q=king+james+coat+of+arms&espv=2&biw=1137&bih=741&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwio9s7Ri4rMAhWMMSYKHaCYAHoQ7AkIMQ&dpr=0.9#tbm=isch&tbs=rimg%3ACcYfIJrQBWWRIjj1TwFQ82GNZSBWrInyBv3e2XiKE0oYdE50fREvEMJn_1N28zaLhLNKm2l4IY2g7gPCTNu32mknDHyoSCfVPAVDzYY1lEZFI1jHf7IzaKhIJIFasifIG_1d4RkUjWMd_1sjNoqEgnZeIoTShh0ThHugJLJIedrEyoSCXR9ES8Qwmf8EZFI1jHf7IzaKhIJ3bzNouEs0qYRD5_1ZWi2B_1_10qEgnaXghjaDuA8BGhq6YWyIhl4yoSCZM27faaScMfERSECqLyAC7k&q=king%20james%20coat%20of%20arms

 

“The Dark Ages Black Monarchy of Europe King James”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ci2iXB3GJj0

 

The White-Faced Versions:

https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=king%20james%201

 

Hidden Colors:

“The Moors, The Greatest Race-Traitors In Black History”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOzI3GTU6Cc

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=Hidden+Colors+%22The+Moors%2C+The+Greatest+Race-Traitors+In+Black+History%22

 

“Slavery and George Washington”

http://www.mountvernon.org/george-washington/biography/?gclid=COSggJL6icwCFcYfhgodFlcOaQ

 

At age 11, George Washington inherited 10 slaves from his father. In those days in Virginia, the institution of slavery was considered “a given” and slaves, like land and other property, could be bought, sold, given away, rented out, and passed down through inheritance. As a young man, George was no different from other members of the Virginia planter class in his attitude that there was nothing morally wrong with slavery.

 

When he married Martha, Washington more than doubled the number of slaves under his control through “dower slaves” that she brought to the marriage. In 1759, there were about 40 slaves living at Mount Vernon. Although Washington had control over the dower slaves as a result of his marriage, they were not his property; instead they belonged to the estate of Martha’s first husband.

 

Washington’s enslaved manservant, Billy Lee, entered the war at Washington’s side and stayed with him throughout the revolution. Like his owner, Billy Lee was widely known as a courageous and expert horseman.

 

As Washington prepared his will, he drew up a list of the Mount Vernon slaves who belonged to either the Custis estate or to him. He found that altogether there were 316 enslaved men, women, and children living at Mount Vernon. Some of these individuals worked in the fields, while others were employed as house servants or as craftsmen in more than a dozen specialties ranging from blacksmithing, to spinning, to bricklaying, weaving, and cooking, to name just a few. At the time of the 1799 census, nearly half of Mount Vernon’s enslaved population was either too old or too young to work.

 

Washington made provisions in his will to free all of his own slaves but could not free those (or the descendants of those) whom Martha had brought to the marriage. By Virginia law, her grandchildren would inherit her “dower slaves.” Because the two groups had intermarried, emancipation of Washington’s slaves proved bittersweet.

 

By freeing his slaves, George Washington tried to set an example for others to follow. He was the only slaveholder among the founding fathers to free his slaves.

 

>

 

Morocco · George Washington’s Mount Vernon

http://www.mountvernon.org/search/?q=moors#gsc.tab=0&gsc.q=moors&gsc.page=1

http://www.mountvernon.org/digital-encyclopedia/article/morocco/

 

Morocco

HOMEDIGITAL ENCYCLOPEDIA MOROCCO

Morocco

About the Encyclopedia

Contributors

Call for Authors

Washington Research Library

9

 

“Great and Magnanimous Friend, Mohammed Ibn Abdullah, The Emperor of Morocco”

http://www.mountvernon.org/digital-encyclopedia/article/morocco/

 

On December 1, 1789, George Washington sat down to write a letter to an old friend of his country. Ironically, however, the letter recipient was someone that Washington had never met. Just over seven months earlier, Washington had been inaugurated the first president of the United States and had set up his office in the country’s temporary capital of New York City.

 

In the intervening months, he had begun putting together his cabinet, gotten Mrs. Washington and the two grandchildren they were raising settled in their new house, organized a scheme for his official entertaining, survived a near-fatal illness, and taken a one-month tour of the New England states. Now, as he started the letter, he began with the salutation, “Great and Magnanimous Friend.” The recipient of the letter he wrote that day was Mohammed Ibn Abdullah, the Emperor of Morocco.1

 

Sidi Mohammed learned about the American colonies’ struggle for independence through the French consul assigned to Morocco and via European newspapers. He began reaching out to the Americans on December 20, 1777, by including them on a list of countries who would be welcomed in Moroccan ports. In an effort to assist the process of opening diplomatic relations with the new country, several months later the Moroccan Emperor appointed a French merchant, Etienne Caille, to serve as consul for unrepresented nations—including the new United States—at his court.

 

Caille got to work quickly, writing on April 14, 1778 to Benjamin Franklin the American minister to France. Upon receiving the letter, Franklin sought the advice of French officials, who suggested that “it was not safe to have any correspondence with him.” Caille also tried to get through to the Americans via their minister in Madrid, John Jay.2

 

The American response must have disappointing. Years after Sidi Mohammed had first offered to open his ports to American shipping, president of the Continental Congress Samuel Huntington wrote to a friend to say that he had just received a letter on “Behalf of the Emperor inviting these United States to trade in his Ports.”3 It was another three months, in December 1780, before the President of Congress finally responded to the Emperor, assuring him of congressional desire “to cultivate a sincere and firm Peace, and Friendship with your Majesty, and to make it lasting to all Posterity.”4

 

Relations continued at a slow pace for another four years—seven years after the Emperor’s initial overtures to the Americans. In May of 1784, the Continental Congress “Resolved, That treaties of amity, or of amity and commerce, be entered into with Morocco, and the regencies of Algiers, Tunis and Tripoly, to continue for the same term of ten years, or for a term as much longer as can be procured.” After noting “That the occupations of the war and distance of our situation have prevented our meeting [the Emperor’s] friendship so early as we wished,” Congress also “Resolved, That a commission be issued to Mr. J. Adams, Mr. B. Franklin and Mr. T. Jefferson, giving powers to them…to make and receive propositions for such treaties of amity and Commerce, and to negotiate and sign the same, transmitting them to Congress for their final ratification; and that such commission be in force for a term not exceeding two years.”5

 

However, in Morocco, the Emperor would not have known about these developments until months later. Feeling that he needed to do something dramatic to get the Americans’ attention, he ordered the capture of an American ship and held it until he was sure that progress was finally underway. In August 1785, Thomas Jefferson wrote to a friend at home, confirming the story, explaining: “You have been told with truth that the Emperor of Marocco has shewn disposition to enter into treaty with us: but not truly that Congress has not attended to his advances and thereby disgusted him. . . His dispositions continue good. As a proof of this, he has lately released freely and cloathed well the crew of an American brig he took last winter.”6

 

The new American special agent for Morocco, Thomas Barclay, was appointed in October 1785 and arrived in the country the following summer. Within a week of his arrival in June 1786, Barclay met twice with the Emperor and was able to report that, “It will be agreeable…for you to know that the last draught of the treaty is made, and will probably be signed in a few days, and that our stay here will not exceed that of a week from this time.”7 The treaty negotiations were completed by the middle of July 1786 and Barclay set out for Europe. It took another year for the treaty to go into effect, signed by two of the Americans ministers, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, in January 1787. The treaty was ratified by Congress in July of the same year, and finally signed by the president of Congress on July 18, 1787.” It would remain in effect for fifty years.

 

It had taken almost ten years to bring the treaty to fruition, but when George Washington sat down to write his letter to the Emperor of Morocco, he knew that this friendship was significant. After explaining the change in the government with the adoption of the new Constitution, and introducing himself as the new head of the American government, Washington assured Sidi Mohammed that “The Encouragement which your Majesty has been pleased, generously, to give to our Commerce with your Dominions; the Punctuality with which you have caused the Treaty with us to be observed …make a deep Impression on the United States, and confirm their Respect for, and Attachment to your Imperial Majesty.”

 

Washington continued, explaining that, “It gives me Pleasure to have this Opportunity of assuring your Majesty that, while I remain at the Head of this Nation, I shall not cease to promote every Measure that may conduce to the Friendship and Harmony, which so happily subsist between your Empire and them.” Washington closed with these words of blessing: “May the Almighty bless your Imperial Majesty, our great and magnanimous Friend, with his constant Guidance and Protection.”9 Sadly, in keeping with the tenor of the confusing and complicated negotiations, Sidi Mohammed never received George Washington’s letter—the Emperor passed away two months before the missive arrived.

 

Mary V. Thompson

Research Historian

Mount Vernon Estate and Gardens

 

Notes:

  1. “George Washington to [Sidi Mohammed], The Emperor of Morocco, 1 December 1789,” The Writings of George Washington, Vol. 30, ed. John C. Fitzpatrick (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office), 474-6.

 

  1. “Samuel Huntington to Etienne d’Audibert Caille,” Letters of Delegates to Congress, Vol. 16 (September 1, 1780-February 28, 1781), eds. Paul H. Smith and others (Washington, DC: Library of Congress, 1989), 519n.

 

  1. “Samuel Huntington to Jonathan Trumbull, Sr., 4 September 4, 1780,” Letters of Delegates to Congress, Vol. 16 (September 1, 1780-February 28, 1781), eds. Paul H. Smith and others (Washington, DC: Library of Congress, 1989), 16 & 17, 17n3 & 17n4.

 

  1. “Samuel Huntington to the Sultan of Morocco, [December 1780],” in Letters of Delegates to Congress, 16:519 & 519n, 16:520.

 

  1. “Resolution, 7 May 1784,” Journals of the Continental Congress, 1774-1789, 26:361-362.

 

  1. “Thomas Jefferson to John Page, 20 August 1785,” The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, 8:418-419.

 

  1. “Thomas Barclay to American Peace Commissioners, 26 June 1786,” The Papers of Thomas Jefferson, Volume 10 (June 22, 1786-December 31, 1786), ed. Julian P. Boyd and others (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1954), 71-2.

 

  1. Journals of the Continental Congress, 1774-1789, 585.

 

9.”George Washington to [Sidi Mohammed], The Emperor of Morocco, 1 December 1789,” The Writings of George Washington, Vol. 30, ed. John C. Fitzpatrick (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office), 474-6.

 

>

 

Morocco

http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/r?ammem/hlaw:@field%28DOCID+@lit%28dg016426%29%29:

 

Letters of Delegates to Congress: Volume 16 September 1, 1780 – February 28, 1781

Samuel Huntington to the Sultan of Morocco

 

[December 1780] The Congress of the Thirteen United States of North America, to the High, Potent and Most Noble Prince, The King and Emperour of Morocco.

Most noble and puissant Prince!

 

We, the Congress of the Thirteen United States of North America, have been informed of Your Majesty’s favourable Regard to the Interests of the People we represent; which has been communicated by Mons Etienne D’Audibert Caille, of Salee, Consul for Foreign Nations unrepresented in Your Majesty’s States. (1) We assure you of our earnest Desire to cultivate a sincere and firm Peace, and Friendship with your Majesty, and to make it lasting to all Posterity.

 

In Order that we may demonstrate more fully the high Value we place upon the Amity of so enlightened and magnanimous a Prince, we have given the necessary Orders to our Minister Plenipotentiary at the Court of His Most Christian Majesty, the King of France, and a proper Person will receive Powers to enter into Negociations for settling a Treaty of Peace and Commerce with such representative of Your Majesty as you may please to appoint. This, from Your Majesty’s great Wisdom and Generosity, we have no Doubt will be adjusted to the mutual Advantage of both Nations.

 

In the mean Time should any of the Subjects of our States come within <<your Majesty’s>Ports or Territories, we flatter ourselves they will receive the Benefit of your Protection and Benevolence. You may assure yourself of every Protection and Assistance to your Subjects from the People of these States whenever and wherever they may have it in their Power.

 

We pray your Majesty may enjoy long Life and uninterrupted Prosperity.

Signed in, and by Order of the Congress of the thirteen, United States of North America, Day of the Month of December in the year of our LORD Christ 1780 and of our Independence.

 

FC (DNA: PCC, item 98). In the hand of William Churchill Houston.

(1) See the preceding entry.

 

>

 

A Century of Lawmaking for a New Nation: U.S. Congressional Documents and Debates, 1774-1875

 

Letters of Delegates to Congress: Volume 16 September 1, 1780 – February 28, 1781 –Artemas Ward to Unknown

 

Letters of Delegates to Congress: Volume 16 September 1, 1780 – February 28, 1781

Artemas Ward to Unknown

 

Sir [December 1780] (1)

Your Letter of the twenty fourth of Novr. last is at last come to hand; for which I return you my warmest thanks. With astonishment I read the several pieces of Intelligence. In the year 1760 Octor. 25.

 

Page 521

DECEMBER 1780

Link to date-related documents.

Artemas Ward

Page 522

 

DECEMBER 1780

Link to date-related documents.

 

G_____ the third came to the Throne. What declarations & Promises did he make? What fulsome addresses were presented to him? On the 25 of Octor. 80._____ (2) came to the throne [. . .] has he promised & recommended in words, and what fulsome nonsense has been presented to him, by way [of] addresses? Has the conduct of the two gr[eat men] anyways comported with their former declarations & engagements? I [ think ] not at all. The conduct of the last has been such if I am rightly informed, that the Jealousy of all ought to be awakened, Lest the morals of the people are debauched by his evil examples & [. . .] State we become a profligate Commonwealth. However I am always for making the best of everything-I think it is a smile in Providence that he has discovered himself so dearly to the people and so early after his accession (as it is called in one of the acts). Unless the people are Stupidly blind (which I don’t think they are) they will see their error, and if proper measures are taken previous to the next-to rouse the Genious of old Cato to address them in the mouth of & in the manner mentioned by my friend, great good will arise to the Community. People many times run into excesses for want of consideration & when this is the case there is no more effectual way to bring them to a sense of their duty than, to address them in a serious, and Solemn manner. It is of importance that it should be done in due season; should it be delayed until the people are habituated to these Views it will be more difficult to bring them off & there will be danger of a general corruption of morals. Should this corruption spread we shall have reason to fear that destruction will follow. I am sometimes ready to fear that, this Generation must be moved of[f] the Stage [before?] Peace, Liberty & Righteousness will flourish on this Continent in a manner wished for. The Stiff necked Israelites of old, were made to wander in the wilderness until the rebellious generation were dead before the tribes of Israel were permitted to enjoy the Promised land. Innumerable have been the remarkable appearances of Divine Providence in favour of this people but alas how unmindful have they been of the Hand that supported and the Ar[m] that saved them. If there was that attention paid to Virtue and Religion which ought to be, and a sincere desire to acknowledge God in all our ways we might then have grounds to hope in the Divine favour for deliverance from a[ll] the Calamities we now feel. But so long as the people with their rulers at their head are in pursute of folly & vanity, we have no reason to expect anything [but] that the hand of the Lord will be stretched out against us & we be made to feel [the] terribleness of His wrath. It is the duty of every one to exert himself to info[rm] the ignorant and to reclaim the vicious, to stir up the minds of all to a sense [of] their duty, that the great exertions of our Pious ancestors to establish a re[fuge] for Liberty & Righteousness on this continent may not at this period be lo[st] through the abounding folly & wickedness of us their degenerate offspring.

 

Page 523

JANUARY 1, 1781

Link to date-related documents.

 

FC (MHi: Ward Papers). In the hand of Artemas Ward.

(1) Although this letter is undated, Ward was responding to one ‘of the twenty fourth of Novr. lasts from an unknown correspondent who had obviously discussed the October 25, 1780, inauguration of John Hancock as governor of Massachusetts.

(2) That is, John Hancock.

 

>

 

Documents from the Continental Congress and the Constitutional Convention, 1774-1789

 

The United States of America, in Congress assembled, to all who shall see these presents, greetings : Whereas the United States of America in Congress assembled, by their commission bearing date the twelfth day of May one thousand seven hundred and eighty-four, thought proper to constitute John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, and Thomas Jefferson, their ministers plenipotentiary, giving to them, or a majority of them, full powers to confer, treat and negociate with the ambassador, minister or commissioner of His Majesty the Emperor of Morocco

 

1.

http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/ampage?collId=bdsdcc&fileName=22601//bdsdcc22601.db&recNum=0&itemLink=r?ammem/bdsbib:@field%28NUMBER+@od1%28bdsdcc+22601%29%29&linkText=0&presId=bdsbib

 

2.

http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/ampage?collId=bdsdcc&fileName=22601//bdsdcc22601.db&recNum=1&itemLink=r?ammem/bdsbib:@field%28NUMBER+@od1%28bdsdcc+22601%29%29&linkText=0

 

3.

http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/ampage?collId=bdsdcc&fileName=22601//bdsdcc22601.db&recNum=2&itemLink=r?ammem/bdsbib:@field%28NUMBER+@od1%28bdsdcc+22601%29%29&linkText=0

 

4.

http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/ampage?collId=bdsdcc&fileName=22601//bdsdcc22601.db&recNum=3&itemLink=r?ammem/bdsbib:@field%28NUMBER+@od1%28bdsdcc+22601%29%29&linkText=0

 

5.

http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/query/r?ammem/hlaw:@field%28DOCID+@lit%28dg016426%29%29:

 

‘Untold Black History: The Moors and Myths Surrounding The Slavery Holocaust’

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6R43NfNQc9o

 

Images of The Sultan of Morocco:

https://www.google.com/search?q=Image+of+the+Sultan+of+Morocco+1789&espv=2&biw=1137&bih=692&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjspuHikYrMAhWDOiYKHdv8CJwQ7AkIOA&dpr=0.9#imgrc=_nuDpiOkKXB2CM%3A

 

This report is significant in the delivery of data and/or information regarding the ‘True History’ of Blacks in World History. Many images and records of Prominent Black Leadership around the world have been ‘white-washed’ in order to present the only leadership possible is that of the white race. This article provides historic detail and recordings of agreements, pleas, deals, and pacts of bi-racial communications to the contrary whereas the lunatic assumptions detailing whites as the leaders and progenitors of “the True World Order.”

 

~ “It’s Not The Things You Know, It’s The Things You Know That Just Ain’t So!” ~

 

 

Til Next Time…

 

In Pride, Justice, Truth, Peace, and Love,

 

‘G’

http://blackhistory.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608 

 

 

~ “SANKOFA” the “MAAFA” ~

 

 

 

*/

 

 

 

/*

“SO LET IT BE WRITTEN, SO LET IT BE DONE!”

the-ten-commandments-arthello-beck-2.chosenbyGod.25thD_3.22.15
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackhistory.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
https://independent.academia.edu/GregoryVBoulware

Adam, Sheth, Enosh, Kenan, Mahalalel, Jered, Henoch, Methuselah, Lamech, Noah, Shem, Ham, and Japheth with all the sons thereafter – The ‘Edomites’ born of the sons of Dishan, Uz, and Aran were the kings that reigned in the land of ‘Edom.’

It’s been proven over and over again that there were Nubian Kingdoms outside of the Nile River and Region as well as new ones created in Sudan but were officially Muslim with older faiths that still exist right up until today. Research and re-examination has uncovered more truth than fiction cloaked in the villainy of deceit and the desire for power over the Black Man. Nubia was greater, but Egypt advanced the knowledge, more so in the old, middle and new kingdom of Egypt. Egypt was the greatest civilization. Art, math, science, morals, and a plethora of ideals became more developed in Egypt.

Chronicles of the achievements and contributions of Black Leaders before the Mayflower have been purposely deleted, concealed, and altered in order to control and continually enslave the ‘Black Mind’ for centuries.

The wide spread distribution of Cush in the ancient world described in the Bible is supported by Greek geographer Strabo and the “Father of History,” Herodotus, both of whom refer to eastern or Asian Cushites in India as having Black skin and straight hair and western Cushites with similar skin color but “Crispy” hair. Thus Jethro lived in the land of Cush in Arabia among other Ethiopians who had not yet completed migration to Ethiopia. He lived in Semitic Midian but he was not a Semite although he spoke a Semitic language.

Semitic descendants of Abraham, like Edom, and the Ishmaelite’s, as well as other Semites, afterward occupied almost all of the Arabian Peninsula. These Semitic tribes are now named Arabians due to their occupation of Arabia, although the name “Arabia” attached to the homeland predates their occupation of the site. In the same way the Anglo-Saxons who are known as Britons are a modern parallel to this kind of name expropriation. The Angles and Saxons were non-Britons who subdued and drove the Britons out of the land. The Anglo-Saxons occupied the Britons’ land and later took the name given to the land by those original inhabitants. Thus the Anglo-Saxons, although not Britons, are called British today. In the same way, Arabia may have been a Hamite name expropriated by a Semitic non-Arab second wave immigration which forced and continued the migratory flight of the Arabian Ethiopians to African Ethiopia.

The proximity of the land of Arabia to Ethiopia lends itself to Arabia being the source of the first Cushite inhabitants of Ethiopia. The location of Ethiopia just across the Red Sea from Arabia, and the long term coexistence of the nations in the Arabian Peninsula as evidence, may be added to the fact that the language of Ethiopia also originated in Arabia. Gesenius says that migrants from Arabia carried into Ethiopia “a branch of the Semitic language, viz. the Ethiopic, which stands in the closest affinity with the old Himyaritic dialect of eastern Arabia.” The Greek Historian, Herodotus, says that in Xerxes’ international army, (about 450 B.C.), Arabians and Ethiopians were grouped together under one command. Perhaps this was due to language similarity.

The images and idols displayed in the churches are not of Christ. Michelangelo first painted the most common religious image used in deceiving the world today. It is a picture of a blue-eyes European with blond hair, who they maliciously claim to be Jesus Christ. This false image was modeled after Cesare Borgia, who was the second son of so-called Pope Alexander VI, of Rome. The real Jesus, according to all scientific and historical facts, is an Afro-Asiatic man.
http://blackhistory.com/content/287792/my-name-is-caesar-borgia-not-jesus-of-nazareth

More Evidence of
“BLACKS IN THE BIBLE!” (Pt.4)
By
Deacon Ron Gray
http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?cid=10&blog_id=291591

“Black churches are also recognizing the power of physical religious images. Some assemblies, like the historic Abyssinian Baptist Church of Harlem, are discussing the idea of replacing their stained-glass windows and wall paintings, which depict biblical characters as Whites, with multicultural images.”
>
“Good Brother Deacon Ron Gray, I am very happy to hear and know of the changes that have and are being implemented in the Black Churches and Meeting Places of Holy Worship.”
>
“In any case, Black preachers, scholars and historians are determined to establish the presence of Black kings, queens, war leaders and women of the Bible as part of missing links in Black history. The question isn’t “where are the Blacks in the Bible,” Dr. Felder said during a telephone interview, “but where are the Whites?”

Although some film, books and art depict most biblical characters as blond and blue-eyed Europeans, a growing body of research indicates that Blacks or people who would be considered as Blacks today were among the major actors in the Bible.

Other churches, like Saint Sabina Catholic Church in Chicago and Moore’s Chapel A.M.E. Church in St. Petersburg, Fla., have already executed such plans.

“It’s the height of a paradox for Black people to experience as much racism that we do during the week and then to go to our most holy place and see all of these White images of the so-called holy families,” Dr. Felder adds. “We want to see more multicultural images and more Black images that are more correct.”

Although there is evidence that Blacks were major contributors in ancient, biblical times, religious scholars say the major point is that the Bible depicted a multicultural world. “Whites are in the Bible as Greeks and Romans. Asia is mentioned and so is Hispania.”
http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?cid=10&blog_id=291591
>
“In Light of Cush/Kush the Dark”
Pt.1
http://blackinamerica.com/content/277155/in-light-of-cush-kush-the-dark
Pt.2
http://blackinamerica.com/content/277165/in-light-of-cush-kush-the-dark-part-2
Pt.3
http://blackinamerica.com/content/277167/in-light-of-cush-kush-the-dark-part-3
In Its Entirety:
https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2015/03/24/in-light-of-cushkush-the-dark/

Til Next Time…

In Pride, Justice, Truth, Peace, and Love,

‘G’
*/

~ “SANKOFA” the “MAAFA” ~

~ “The Power of Sankofa” ~
Sankofa is an African word from the Akan tribe in Ghana. The literal translation of the word and the symbol is “it is not taboo to fetch what is at risk of being left behind.”
http://blackhistory.com/content/288611/sankofa-never-to-forget

Maafa:
Maafa are terms used to describe the history and ongoing effects of atrocities inflicted on African people.
~The Maafa Did Not End With The Emancipation Proclamation~
…It began when the 1st African became shackled to the bottom of a slave ship!
http://blackhistory.com/content/273292/maafa-life-after-conquest
https://plus.google.com/111976345290342184104/posts/3mcCaE1SthH

~ “The Difference Between Hebrewism and Judaism” ~

the Lion of Judah.Black_12.18.15
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackhistory.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
https://independent.academia.edu/GregoryVBoulware

Hebrewism is the ideology of Hebraic reconstructionism which is the reconstruction and restoration of the ancient Hebraic religion.
There is also a religion called Judaism, a set of ideas about the world and the way we should live our lives that is called “Judaism.” It is studied in Religious Studies courses and taught to Jewish children in Hebrew schools.
Black or Ethiopian Jews also known as Beta Israel and sometimes called Falashas were virtually unknown, disrespected, and unrecognized in America.

While many of us don’t truly believe that the ‘Bible’ speaks to and of us, there exists the mythology and mysticism of who is and who isn’t a Hebrew or a Jew. Many believe that Judaism and Hebrewism is one and the same.

Well I’m here to tell you that belief is extraordinarily to the contrary – “It’s Not The Things You Know, its The Things You Know That Just Ain’t So!”

~(R.B., Philadelphia Black Talk Radio)~

Africa, Egypt, and Israel have hosted and sprouted a vast number of Black People and Hebrew Cultures that have transcended the worlds continents and its PEOPLE! Do you know who you are? From where You have come? Did you learn to become ignorant in America’s Scholastic Endeavor to KEEP YOU BLIND AND IGNORANT TO YOUR PAST, YOUR PEOPLE, AND YOUR HERITAGE?

Do not fear…there are those of us who know this and that about a few things that you, your children, friends, and families should know – Learn and Remember for the sake of your existence, future, and posterity!

/*
According to ‘Judaism 101,’ many people who call themselves Jews do not believe in that religion at all! More than half of all Jews in Israel today call themselves “secular,” and don’t believe in God or any of the religious beliefs of Judaism. Half of all Jews in the United States don’t belong to any synagogue. They may practice some of the rituals of Judaism and celebrate some of the holidays, but they don’t think of these actions as religious activities.

Hebraic Reconstructionism believes in the ideology of Hebraic reconstructionism which is the reconstruction and restoration of the ancient Hebraic religion. It is said that Hebrewism is very similar to Judaism, but is quite distinct at the same moment. Judaism is different from the ancient Hebraic religion and it derives its doctrine by rabbinic sources while Hebrewism rejects those sources and derives its doctrine by solely the Tanakh, also known as the Hebraic Bible. Our doctrine is more aligned with Karaism which solely believes in the Tanakh as well, but isn’t based on reconstruction of the ancient Hebraic religion, unlike Hebrewism. It could even be said Hebrewism is a sect of Karaism since most of our doctrine comes from it.

A Hebraic reconstructionist, or just Hebrew, Neo-Hebrew, Hebrewist, or Eberite for short, is someone who believes in the one true Elohim of the Hebrews, the reconstruction of the ancient Hebraic religion, and in the Torah, Nevi’im, Ketuvim, also known as the Tanakh. They believe all mandatory doctrine solely comes from the Tanakh and all other traditions are optional as long it does not conflict with the Tanakh. If they were already circumcised before, then they would just start following and interpreting the Tanakh in its plain meaning. If they weren’t circumcised before, then they would undergo circumcision and also follow the Tanakh in its plain meaning. If your former belief caused you to break the Tanakh, you would repent of your sins against it.

Hebrews believe in the one true Elohim of the Hebrews, the reconstruction of the ancient Hebraic Culture and religion, and in the Torah, Nevi’im, Ketuvim, also known as the Tanakh. We believe all mandatory doctrine solely comes from the Tanakh and all other traditions are optional as long it does not conflict with the Tanakh.
http://hebrewism.weebly.com/

Who are Ashkenazic Jews?

Ashkenazic Jews are the Jews of France, Germany, and Eastern Europe and their descendants. The adjective “Ashkenazic” and corresponding nouns, Ashkenazi (singular) and Ashkenazim (plural) are derived from the Hebrew word “Ashkenaz,” which is used to refer to Germany. Most American Jews today are Ashkenazim, descended from Jews who emigrated from Germany and Eastern Europe from the mid-1800s to the early 1900s.

Who are Sephardic Jews?
Sephardic Jews are the Jews of Spain, Portugal, North Africa and the Middle East and their descendants. The adjective “Sephardic” and corresponding nouns Sephardi (singular) and Sephardim (plural) are derived from the Hebrew word “Sepharad,” which refers to Spain.

The Yiddish language, which many people think of as the international language of Judaism, is really the language of Ashkenazic Jews. Sephardic Jews have their own international language: Ladino, which was based on Spanish and Hebrew in the same way that Yiddish was based on German and Hebrew.

There are some Jews who do not fit into this Ashkenazic/Sephardic distinction. Yemenite Jews, Ethiopian Jews (also known as Beta Israel and sometimes called Falashas), and Asian Jews also have some distinct customs and traditions. These groups, however, are relatively small and virtually unknown in America.

Sephardic Jews are often subdivided into Sephardim, from Spain and Portugal, and Mizrachim, from the Northern Africa and the Middle East. The word “Mizrachi” comes from the Hebrew word for Eastern. There is much overlap between the Sephardim and Mizrachim. Until the 1400s, the Iberian Peninsula, North Africa and the Middle East were all controlled by Muslims, who generally allowed Jews to move freely throughout the region. It was under this relatively benevolent rule that Sephardic Judaism developed. When the Jews were expelled from Spain in 1492, many of them were absorbed into existing Mizrachi communities in Northern Africa and the Middle East, quotes ‘Judaism 101.’

Historically, it is also recorded that Sephardic Jews have been more integrated into the local non-Jewish culture than Ashkenazic Jews. In the Christian lands where Ashkenazic Judaism flourished, the tension between Christians and Jews was great, and Jews tended to be isolated from their non-Jewish neighbors, either voluntarily or involuntarily. In the Islamic lands where Sephardic Judaism developed, there was less segregation and oppression. Sephardic Jewish thought and culture was strongly influenced by Arabic and Greek philosophy and science.

Mizrachi: Descendants of Jews from North Africa and the Middle East
• Other subgroups are Yemenite, Ethiopian and Oriental
http://www.jewfaq.org/judaism.htm
http://www.jewfaq.org/ashkseph.htm

Research and discoveries unfold continuously revealing the nature and true origins of mankind, especially Black People. Many authors and writers have gone above and beyond the call to eradicate the existence, heritage, and contributions to the world by Majestic, Historical, and Original Black Civilizations and Cultures primarily because much of the world’s knowledge and wisdom is derived from this EARTHLY BLACK LEADERSHIP!

Til Next Time…

In Pride, Justice, Truth, Peace, and Love,

‘G’
http://boulwareenterprises.com/-_A_Portentous_Epoch_~.html

~ “SANKOFA” the “MAAFA” ~

*/

Hebrewism:
https://www.google.com/search?q=Hebrewism&oq=h&aqs=chrome.1.69i60j69i59j69i60l4.2708j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8
Judaism:
https://www.google.com/webhp?sourceid=chrome-instant&ion=1&espv=2&ie=UTF-8#q=judaism

“The Hard Way”

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

“The human body is more than 60 percent water. Blood is 92 percent water, the brain and muscles are 75 percent water, and bones are about 22 percent water.”

“While most of us make frivolous decisions about the differences and benefits of whether to use ‘Hard-Water or Soft-Water’ to suit our accustomed needs and comforts, there exists a small American Town that has not those luxuries…”

 

President Barack Obama said of the crisis, “What is inexplicable and inexcusable is once people figured out that there was a problem there, and that there was lead in the water, the notion that immediately families weren’t notified; things weren’t shut down. That shouldn’t happen anywhere.”

 

/*

On many occasions, I have heard many people complain about the rain. They have referred to it as “Bad Weather,” “A Bleak and Dismal Day,” or “It’s Just Horrible Outside With All That Rain!”

My question to you is ‘How Many of You Know of Anyone Who Can Live Without Water?’

 

Can You?

 

Back in the day, there was a movie made about contaminating the drinking water of a selected group of people in order to cull the herd, if not completely eliminating them. How many of you remember the movie “Three The Hard Way?” The film starred ‘Fred Williamson,’ ‘Jim Brown,’ and Jim Kelly.’ I can also recall that I’ve mentioned this film in reference not long ago in another posting. The film suggested a method to a pro-white group and/or groups of how to disseminate the hated target group of people who happened to be of color.

 

The covert scientists who worked for the hate group(s) came up with a chemical that would eradicate only the people of color – particularly ‘Black People!’ All one had to do was add this chemical to the drinking water supply of the targeted group. The hate group who happened to emulate the ‘KKK’ with the arm bands and brown-shirted uniforms of Nazi origins and regimes were dispatched to all of the U.S. cities with large Black populations. They were directed to go out to all the water reservoirs and add the time released chemical into the water at the water treatment plants and facilities.

The heroic threesome, who happened to hear of the plot by an escaped run-away near-dead young Black testing prisoner; took it upon themselves to save the people due to lack of response by the governing officials across the land.

 

If you had no clean, clear, and safe water to consume, what would you do? How would you live? Who would you blame for the catastrophe? How would you right this wrong?

 

In a little town in Michigan, there is an existing water crisis… The majority of its people are Black, Poor-Whites, and many other People of Color. Brother Al Sharpton has mentioned bathing. “It’s not just about the drinking water and the cooking water – what about the bathing water?” Flint Michigan’s water troubles began several years back – 2013 was when this disaster came to light. The governor and his cabinet are said to be the responsible party. The governor has since apologized and taken responsibility. But is it too little too late? Was this horrific situation purely an accident or a sinister and insidious plot to eliminate the problematic people of Flint Michigan and possibly other American cities and towns?

 

How did this come to pass – What caused this situation is the first place?

 

Let us start at the beginning…

 

~ The Flint Water Crisis ~

 

“The Flint water crisis is a drinking water contamination crisis in Flint, Michigan (United States) that started in April 2014.

 

After the change in source from treated Lake Huron water (via Detroit) to the Flint River, the city’s drinking water had a series of problems that culminated with lead contamination, creating a serious public health danger. The corrosive Flint River water caused lead from aging pipes to leach into the water supply, causing extremely elevated levels of lead. As a result, between 6,000 and 12,000 residents had severely high levels of lead in the blood and experienced a range of serious health problems. The water change is also a possible cause of an outbreak of Legionnaires’ disease in the county that has killed 10 people and affected another 77.

 

On November 13, 2015, four families filed a federal class action lawsuit in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Michigan in Detroit against Governor Rick Snyder and thirteen other city and state officials, and three separate people filed a similar suit in state court two months later, and four more lawsuits were filed after that. Separately, the United States Attorney’s Office for the Eastern District of Michigan and the Michigan Attorney General’s office opened investigations. On January 5, 2016, the city was declared to be in a state of emergency by the Governor of Michigan, before President Obama declared the crisis as a federal state of emergency, authorizing additional help from the Federal Emergency Management Agency and the Department of Homeland Security less than two weeks later.

 

Four government officials—one from the City of Flint, two from the Michigan Department of Environmental Quality, and one from the Environmental Protection Agency—resigned over the mishandling of the crisis, and Snyder issued an apology to citizens, while promising money to Flint for medical care and infrastructure upgrades.”

 

History of Flint water supply:

Before 2014

Return to Detroit water

Lead exposure findings

Possible link to Legionnaires’ disease spike

Inquiries, investigations, resignations, and release of documents

State of emergency and emergency responses

Lawsuits

Political responses

Media and other responses

Celebrity and corporate donations

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flint_water_crisis

>

‘Water Crisis in Flint, Michigan, Draws Federal Investigation’

By

Greg Botelho, Sarah Jorgensen and Joseph Netto, CNN

 

“The health effects listed in the class-action suit include: skin lesions, hair loss, and high levels of lead in the blood, vision loss, memory loss, depression and anxiety.

 

Keith John Pemberton and his wife, Jacqueline, who are in their late 60s, allege in court documents that they suffered property damage because of the corrosive water, loss of value in their home, skin lesions and “psychological disorders such as depression, chronic anxiety and an inability to cope with normal stress.” These conditions, according to the suit, were the result of bathing, washing and normal household activities.”

http://www.cnn.com/2016/01/05/health/flint-michigan-water-investigation/

 

‘What Went Wrong In Flint’

By

Anna Maria Barry-Jester

 

“I drank the water for eight or nine months,” John said. “In the poor parts of town, those people drank it for one and a half years. Some still are.”

 

“Today, we know that those health concerns include poisoning from a well-understood neurotoxin: lead. That realization has led to international outrage, protests from Flint residents, and the resignation of several federal, state and local employees, though not as many as some Flint residents would like. More than a year after residents started sounding alarm bells, it’s now clear that employees at the state’s Department of Environmental Quality collected insufficient data and ignored the warning signs visible in what they did collect. In the process, they allowed the residents of Flint to be poisoned.

 

Dozens of Flint’s residents who had been gathering data and information for nearly a year knew something wasn’t right. While state and federal agencies almost obsessively focused on proving that they were meeting federal regulations, rather than taking a deeper look at whether Flint’s drinking water was safe, residents begged them to pay attention to the valuable data they’d collected through their bodies and research. There was power in finally having irrefutable proof, and finally having someone listen.”

http://fivethirtyeight.com/features/what-went-wrong-in-flint-water-crisis-michigan/

 

‘Water Bills in Poisoned Flint an ‘Outrage,’ Attorney General Says’

by

Tracy Connor and Lisa Riordan Seville

 

Michigan’s top prosecutor said Monday that it’s an “outrage” that residents of Flint are being forced to pay for water that’s unsafe to drink — and his office may take action to stop the billing.

 

“Words can barely describe this tragedy. Things went terribly wrong,” AG Bill Schuette said. “I would certainly not bathe a newborn child or a young infant in this bad water and if you can’t drink the bad water you shouldn’t pay for it.”

 

Although the city has now switched back to Detroit’s water supply, health officials say so much damage was done that the water coming out of the taps is still not safe for children in the economically depressed city, where water bills average $140 a month, according to the Flint Journal.

 

Many residents of Flint — where 40 percent of the residents live in poverty and the average household income is just $25,000 — are relying on donated bottled water.

http://www.nbcnews.com/storyline/flint-water-crisis/water-bills-poisoned-flint-outrage-attorney-general-says-n503851

 

“The Heroic Professor Who Helped Uncover The Flint Lead Water Crisis​ Has Been Asked To Fix It!”

 

It was Prof. Marc Edwards, 51, who more than a decade earlier proved, along with an investigation by The Washington Post, that corrosion in the nation’s capital’s pipes had caused lead to seep into the water supply and pass through kitchen faucets and shower heads. After helping to expose that water crisis in 2004, he spent six years challenging the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention to admit they weren’t being honest about the extent of the damage the lead had on children.

 

In 2010 it was proven that the CDC had lied to the public in a misleading report, which falsely claimed lead levels in the water had not posed a health risk to D.C. residents.

 

In April, 2015 a woman named Leeanne Walters, a Flint, Mich., stay-at-home mother who was getting nowhere convincing state and local officials that there was something seriously wrong with the orange-tinted water coming out of her tap. Her family’s hair was thinning. Her son’s skin was red and irritated. They told her the water was perfectly safe. And even months later, when it had been determined there were high traces of lead in her water; the officials shrugged it off as an isolated problem.

 

Desperately, she called Edwards, whom she had read about online. Over the phone, he walked her through how to take her own water samples. The next day she sent them FedEx to Edwards to test. It was the worst lead levels he had ever seen.

 

Bruce Lanphear, a professor at Simon Fraser University and also an expert in lead toxicity, said Edwards not only studies the impact of lead in water, but he makes his testing available to communities in need, like he did in Flint.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/inspired-life/wp/2016/01/26/meet-the-heroic-professor-who-helped-uncover-the-flint-lead-water-crisis/

 

 

“Flint Water Almost Like ‘Gas Chambers for Jews!”

says ‘Al Sharpton!’

http://www.mlive.com/news/flint/index.ssf/2015/03/al_sharptons_national_action_n_2.html

 

“While an investigation is obviously needed, it remains to be seen just how thorough this will be and whether or not there are any conflicts of interest involved. In the meantime, the residents of Flint — majority African-American and 40 percent who are below the poverty line — continue to suffer. Last week, Gov. Rick Snyder stated in an interview that the water crisis was his “Katrina.”

 

“Democratically elected officials were displaced and replaced with emergency management people who cut a deal and sent contaminated river water that corroded pipelines and exposed residents to toxic levels of lead. Gov. Snyder’s administration ignored this problem since 2014, and in terms of direct action, politics and policies, the Flint crisis might just be even worse than Katrina.

In areas like Flint and Detroit, there is a history of emergency managers taking control of Black cities from local authorities. When that local power is taken away from city councils, mayors, etc., the residents have less input over decisions that directly impact them and their neighborhoods. As the citizens of both Flint and Detroit will often say, the emergency managers are more concerned with cutting costs than with the actual welfare of the community. In Detroit, some schools are still suffering both academically and financially after emergency management failed to resolve issues and failed students and their families. In Flint, drinking water became contaminated with lead in April of 2014 and Gov. Snyder did not declare a state of emergency until Jan. 5 of this year. That is simply outrageous and a grave miscarriage of justice.”

 

“If they cannot drink it, cook with it and more, why should they have to pay for it? And who is going to pay for the health costs of all of those impacted by this tragedy? These are long-term issues that must be dealt with, but before we even get to that, the crisis itself must be resolved. The people of Flint are still suffering with no clear answer as to when their water will be safe again. And while we welcome an independent investigation, there must be accountability, period.

 

On February 3, Gov. Snyder will appear before Congress, and many of us will be outside and visible, because the citizens of Flint are not invisible and they deserve justice.”

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-al-sharpton/flint-response—worse-th_b_9070974.html

 

…Meanwhile, here in ‘Philly’:

 

“WEST PHILADELPHIA MAN & FRIENDS TAKE 50K BOTTLES OF WATER TO FLINT!”

By

Chad Pradelli

 

A West Philadelphia man and his friends have taken their own action to make an impact on the Flint water crisis.

 

It started with a phone call.

 

“They said, ‘Hey Neo, we got to do something for Flint, Michigan.’ I said, ‘What do you want to do?'” Nehemiah Davis said.

 

What they’d do – despite a blizzard, despite 600 miles of roadway, and despite little money – is pack two huge trucks with bottled water and deliver it to the people of Flint, who’ve been poisoned by lead tainted water.

 

They made it happen in just a couple of days.

 

“People came up and, literally, we had 500 to 600 cases on the ground. We wound up renting another U-Haul,” Davis said.

 

Nehemia and his partners had an initial goal of delivering 10,000 bottles of water to the needy people of Flint, but instead he delivered 50,000 bottles.

 

“For us to be able to provide them water so their kids could bathe, so their kids could drink, so their kids could brush their teeth with good water, it was just awesome,” Davis said.

 

http://6abc.com/news/west-philly-man-takes-50k-bottles-of-water-to-flint/1176784/

WPVITV Action News

http://www.boulwareenterprises.com/BoulwareEnterprises.html

 

 

WATER

 

The transparent colorless liquid, H2O, which falls from the sky as rain, issues from the ground in springs, and composes three-quarters of the Earth’s surface in the form of seas, rivers, and lakes, etc. – Pure water is odorless, tasteless, transparent (although bluish in bulk) and relatively incompressible. It has a high specific heat and poor electrical conductivity. Under standard pressure it freezes (with slight expansion) to ice at 0oC and boils at 100oC giving steam. The density is a maximum at 4oC, where it is taken as exactly 1gm/cm3. Water has the chemical composition H2O, ionizing as H2O=H+OH.

 

WATER AND EARTH

 

Three-quarters of the Earth’s surface is covered with water, yet 98 percent is salt water and not fit for consumption.

Less than one percent of all the water on Earth is freshwater available for human consumption.

 

WATER AND HUMANS

 

*  The human body is more than 60 percent water. Blood is 92 percent water, the brain and muscles are 75 percent water, and bones are about 22 percent water.

 

*  A human can survive for a month or more without eating food, but only a week or so without drinking water.

 

WATER CONSUMPTION

 

*  3.9 trillion gallons of water are consumed in the United States per month. (AWWA Journal, June 2006)

 

*  The average American uses 176 gallons of water per day compared to 5 gallons of water the average African family uses each day. (www.water.org)

 

WATER PRICES

 

“The price of water is increasing–sometimes dramatically–throughout the world,” writes Edwin Clark, II in Earth Policy Institute’s latest report. Over the past five years, municipal water rates have increased by an average of 27 percent in the United States, 45 percent in Australia, 50 percent in South Africa, and 58 percent in Canada. In Tunisia, the price of irrigation water increased fourfold over a decade. Yet consumers rarely pay the actual cost of water. In fact, many governments practically (and sometimes literally) give water away.

 

The average American household consumes about 127,400 gallons of water during a year. Homeowners in Washington, DC, pay about $350 for that amount of water. Buying that same amount of water from a vendor in Guatemala City would cost more than $1,700.

 

The price people pay for water is largely determined by three factors: the cost of transportation from source to user, total demand, and price subsidies. Treatment to remove contaminants also can add to the cost.

 

A key step in moving toward more rational water management is to place a price on water that reflects its value and scarcity. Although pricing water at a reasonable cost can generate political problems in the short run, it can lead to substantial efficiencies in the longer run and eliminate drainage on government budgets. Higher prices will lead households, farmers and industries to use water more efficiently. Just as the oil price shocks of the 1970’s stimulated energy conservation, so too could pricing water to better reflect its real cost stimulate similar conservation efforts.

 

Source: Water prices rising worldwide. (2007, Spring). Resource Action Program.

http://www.waterinfo.org/resources/water-facts

 

 

What if it is true that some para-military-militia group has decided to take matters into their own hands by addressing the “Problem People?” What if the said group(s) has decided that a plan of action…a plan of such magnitude is feasible? Would you believe it? Would Law Enforcement Officials believe it if you went to them with a story such as described in the movie, “Three The Hard Way” or of a similar pre-conceived nature?  

 

~ Do You Believe in the possibility of such a ‘Terroristic Threat?’ ~

 

Water…the liquid gold of life. How we have taken it for granted… What would you do if you were the victim of ‘Flint Michigan’s’ crisis? Would you sue the government, the city, the world? How about the president? …Or would you invest every resource at your command to conserve and find more of the precious life giving fluid?

 

Maybe the next time it rains, snows, hails, or sleets, you will not be so eager to call it bad or foul weather.

 

When was the last time you drank water from the tap? Was it good-tasting? Did it make you sick? What was the color of your tap water if you live in the city? What is its’ color if you live in a rural area of the country? Is the advent of bottled water a pre-conceived plan of some sinister plot or government entity?

 

All of the citizen groups who have banded together and pooled their efforts to help the residents of Flint Michigan and those who suffer a similar circumstance are too be commended for their humanity.

 

The next time you step into the shower and take a drink of nice clean and clear water, think of the folk in Flint Michigan and those around the world who cannot partake the pleasure of plain simple water.

 

 

 

Til Next Time….

 

 

Posting List Links and Locations to Articles by Boulware

~ ‘The E-Store for Books by Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.’ ~

http://boulwareenterprises.com/-_A_Portentous_Epoch_~.html

http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/the-e-store-for-books-by-boulware 

/*

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And

 

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The Re-Emergence of ‘A Timeless Epoch – An Ingrained Memory’

“Eyes on The Prize”

…The Return of a timeless classic reemerges January 17, 2016 on ‘PBS’ WorldChannel.org 

 Karales_Selma_to_Montgomery-crop-321x150

The award-winning documentary series Eyes on the Prize tells the definitive story of the civil rights era from the point of view of the ordinary men and women whose extraordinary actions launched a movement that changed the fabric of American life, and embodied a struggle whose reverberations continue to be felt today.

http://worldchannel.org/

http://worldchannel.org/programs/eyes-on-the-prize/

Eyes on the Prize tells the definitive story of the civil rights era from the point of view of the ordinary men and women whose extraordinary actions launched a movement that changed the fabric of American life, and embodied a struggle whose reverberations continue to be felt today.

As Presented

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://blackhistory.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608

 

/*

The award-winning documentary series recounts the fight to end decades of discrimination and segregation from the murder of Emmett Till in 1955 to Harold Washington’s Mayoral Win of 1983 in Chicago. This is the story of the people — young and old, male and female, northern and southern — who, compelled by a meeting of conscience and circumstance, worked to eradicate a world where whites and blacks could not attend the same school, ride the same bus, vote in the same election, or participate equally in society. It was a time in which peaceful demonstrators were met with resistance and brutality — a reality that may once have been nearly incomprehensible to many young Americans but is all too undeniable once again today.

 

Through historical interviews and footage, the critically acclaimed Eyes on the Prize traces the civil rights movement from the Montgomery bus boycott to the Voting Rights Act; from early acts of individual courage through the flowering of a mass movement and its eventual split into factions.

 “Narrated by political leader and civil rights activist Julian Bond (1940-2015)”

 http://worldchannel.org/programs/eyes-on-the-prize/

 “When people saw what had happened to my son, men stood up who had never stood up before.” – Mamie Till Bradley, Emmett Till’s mother

 “Emmett Till, an African American teen from Chicago, is visiting relatives in Mississippi when he makes a fatal mistake – he whistles at a white woman, breaking the unwritten laws of the Jim Crow South. Three days later, two white men drag him from bed and brutally murder him. Despite national outrage and the testimony of eyewitnesses including Emmett’s uncle Moses Wright, Mississippi finds the accused not guilty. Safe from being tried twice for the same crime, the men later admit their guilt and describe details of the lynching.

 ~ Till’s death and his killers’ acquittal help ignite the civil rights movement ~

 “…people wanted to continue that boycott. They had been touched by the persecution, the humiliation…they voted for it unanimously…” – Jo Ann Robinson, boycott organizer

 

After Emmett Till’s murder, civil rights activist Rosa Parks is arrested after refusing to give up her seat on a segregated bus in Montgomery, Alabama. Her arrest inspires black leaders to mount a one-day bus boycott with 40,000 people. The success of the event leads to a year-long boycott led by 26-year-old Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr. During the time, the bus company suffers economically, bombs are thrown at organizers’ homes, and the white Citizens Council and the Ku Klux Klan hold rallies. At last, a Supreme Court decision integrates the buses; thousands of black riders are on the buses again…sitting where they please.”

 http://worldchannel.org/programs/episode/eyes-prize-awakenings-1954-1956/

 “”Supreme Court or no Supreme Court, we are going to maintain segregated schools down in Dixie.” – U. S. Senator James Eastland, Democrat from Mississippi

 

Southern whites resist the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education decision, which states that separate school facilities are inherently unequal and orders school integration. Several southern governors lead the way in preventing integration, claiming the federal government is intervening in state matters, and pledge to maintain the South’s traditions and heritage. The NAACP’s legal team files suit to open the doors of public educational institutions to African Americans.

 

– Alabama: In 1956, mob rule and violence are used to keep Autherine Lucy from enrolling in the University of Alabama. A court decision backs her efforts.

 

– Arkansas: In 1957, a group of African American high school students, known as the Little Rock Nine, pass through angry crowds to integrate Arkansas’s Central High School. They are protected by paratroopers dispatched by President Dwight Eisenhower and advised by state NAACP officials.

 

– Louisiana: In 1960, white residents riot over four black girls entering a desegregated first-grade classroom in New Orleans.

 

– Mississippi: In 1936, James Meredith is barred from registering at the University of Mississippi by Governor Ross Barnett. Barnett engages in negotiations with President John Kennedy, who then sends federal marshals to the campus. A mob of segregationists erupts in violence, killing two people and wounding others before the U.S. Army restores order. Ultimately, Meredith will enroll and graduate from the university.

 

~ Virginia: “The governor chooses to close schools rather than allow integration” ~

 http://worldchannel.org/programs/episode/eyes-prize-fighting-back-1957-1962/

 “”The workshops in nonviolence made the difference…the philosophy…the tactics, the techniques, how to…take the blows and still respond with…dignity.” — Reverend C. T. Vivian, Nashville activist

 

Southern cities maintain segregated public facilities like a Greensboro, North Carolina lunch counter, where four black college students stage the first sit-in. The non-violent sit-in movement spreads to 69 cities across the South with black communities organizing economic boycotts and sympathetic Northerners picketing stores. In Nashville, protesters are arrested and attacked but do not retaliate. The bombing of the house of Z. Alexander Looby, a lawyer working with the activists, led to thousands marching to City Hall. Mayor Ben West concedes that lunch counter segregation is wrong and businesses quickly desegregate. Elated with success, students found the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC).

 

“Segregation must be stopped…we’ll take hitting, we’ll take beating. We’re willing to accept death. But we’re going to keep coming…” — Jim Zwerg, Freedom Rider

 

The Supreme Court has twice-banned segregation in interstate travel but Southern states widely ignore the rulings. In May 1961, the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) sends Freedom Riders, mixed-race groups of non-violent volunteers, on bus trips. They meet with violent resistance in Alabama, especially in Birmingham and Montgomery. As violence rages, the U.S. Marshals and Alabama National Guard are called in by President John F. Kennedy and Governor John Patterson, respectively. The Riders continue without violence under protection into Mississippi, but are arrested and sentenced to a maximum-security prison. Over the next few months, 300 riders are arrested and sentenced in Mississippi alone. Ultimately, the Freedom Riders win when the Interstate Commerce Commission bans segregation in interstate travel.”

  http://worldchannel.org/programs/episode/eyes-prize-aint-scared-your-jails-1960-1961/

  “We learned…that you must pinpoint your targets so that you do not dilute the strength of your attack.” – Reverend Wyatt Tee Walker, SCLC leader

 

In Albany, Georgia, the movement experiences what some will call its greatest defeat. The Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) arrives in 1961 to help Black Citizens combat segregation but by year’s end, Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. is asked to provide support to the Albany movement. Police chief Laurie Pritchett, who has studied the non-violent tactics, avoids creating scenes of police brutality, and even arranges for someone to pay King’s and Rev. Ralph Abernathy’s bail so the leaders are not a magnet for unwelcome attention. Conflicts also arise between the SNCC and King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) over leadership issues. In July 1962, a federal judge issues a restraining order against the protesters, leaving Albany segregated. But Albany’s black community presses on.

 

“The events in Birmingham…have so increased the cries for equality that no city or state or legislative body can prudently choose to ignore them.” — President John F. Kennedy

 

In Birmingham, Alabama, a city notorious for its racial hatred, activists launch Project “C” (confrontation) and Martin Luther King, Jr. writes his “Letter from Birmingham Jail.” By May, activists begin recruiting children to march; 1000 children peacefully protest only to have fire hoses and police dogs turned on them. After five days, 2500 protesters fill the jails, 2000 of them children. Birmingham business leaders make a deal with protesters, promising to desegregate public facilities and begin an employment program. In response, the Klan bombs King’s hotel though he has already left town. The crowd that gathers is beaten by police, leading to a riot and protests in other cities, showing that the non-violent approach has its limits.

 

“Those…, who exhort patience in the name of a false peace, are in fact supporting segregation and exploitation. They would have social peace at the expense of social and racial justice.”

~ A. Philip Randolph, March organizer ~

 

Civil rights leaders plan for a march in Washington, D.C. to demonstrate for jobs and freedom. Through opposition, labor and civil rights leader A. Philip Randolph and Bayard Rustin, organizer of the march’s complex logistics, press ahead. On August 28, 1963, over 200,000 people gather on the National Mall to listen to Martin Luther King, Jr. deliver his “I Have a Dream” speech, declaring, “That my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character…” The March on Washington is a triumph but less than three weeks later; the Ku Klux Klan bombs the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham. Fifteen people are injured and ‘Four Young Girls are killed.’”

 http://worldchannel.org/programs/episode/eyes-prize-no-easy-walk-1961-1963/

 Discover the unsolved mysteries behind the family stories of political organizer Donna Brazile, actor Ty Burrell and artist Kara Walker as they learn how the legacy of slavery has shaped their identities.

 

In the series “Finding Your Roots,” Harvard scholar Henry Louis Gates, Jr. is helping people discover long-lost relatives hidden for generations within the branches of their family trees. Professor Gates employs a team of genealogists to reconstruct the paper trail left behind by our ancestors while geneticists decode our DNA and help us travel thousands of years into the past to discover the origins of our earliest forebears.

http://worldchannel.org/programs/episode/finding-your-roots-stories-we-tell/

http://worldchannel.org/schedule/

 http://blackhistory.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608

 

“Maafa: Life After Conquest”

The Ruin Of A Nation Begins In The Homes Of Its People

By

Gregory V. Boulware

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2014/11/30/maafa-life-after-conquest/  

http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=273292&cid=10  

 

How – Where Is It possible For A Human Being To Have Peace Where There Is No Justice?

 

While many Americans continue to allow themselves to be brainwashed, distracted, and preoccupied with ‘Black Friday’ sales and other deceptive clandestine practices of ripping you off…”Give Me All Your Money!” The killing of another Black Youth sounded the alarm for unification. The focused marchers are ‘Marching’ and the focused protesters are ‘Protesting’ the continuing saga of Black elimination which is once again brought forth.

 

~The Maafa Did Not End With The Emancipation Proclamation~

…It began when the 1st African became shackled to the bottom of a slave ship!

Is there a hidden racial agenda in white America? There are many who believe it is so…

http://blackhistory.com/content/273292/maafa-life-after-conquest

 

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“The Conch Shell”

Anthololgy.2_2.22.12

By

Gregory V. Boulware

‘Anthology of An Essayist II: Total Comprehensive Compositions‘

http://www.amazon.com/Anthology-Essayist-Total-Comprehensive-Compositions/dp/1470114399/ref=la_B00OI16PDI_1_1/183-1931151-3389044?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1441162433&sr=1-1

 

The Conch Shell:

An emblem of power, authority, and sovereignty, whose blast banishes evil spirits, avert natural disasters, and scare away poisonous creatures.

“A Legacy of Money Cannot Replace A Heritage of Dignity!”

If there were advanced races in the galaxy…even by the standards of western writers, they would, at some point…destroy themselves – if the technological advancement far outweighed their own spiritual development and cultivation.

The primary of spirituality over technology is the key to comprehending how Africa accomplished what it did.

The knowledge resides in the womb of a rejected people and a (their) way of life. Thus, Africa reminds ‘US’“Man (Woman) Know Thyself!”

Planning – Organizing – Staffing – Directing – Controlling

Human Skills – Technical Skills – Conceptual Skills

IT/BI

History continues to show America and the World has always been rescued, salvaged, and resuscitated by people of color. One of the many world wars was rescued by African Americans with the knowledge and ability to step up to the plate – Lead, Direct, Teach, and Set Examples for ALL.

Albeit, the prediction, the prophesized, the anticipated time has come to pass, I wonder how many will now clutch their handbags when I walk into an elevator; when I stand or sit beside them?

“Yes We Can” has changed to “Yes We Did” which has morphed into “Our Time Has Come!” “The Time Is Now!” Many Black (Persons of Color) personalities and leaders who were labeled as such, have said it in the past, “We Can’t Wait” have found the wait to be well worth it.

“THE TIME HAS COME!”

Less we forget, one must take pride in ones-self in order to gain the respect of others.

In light of the events that have, I think, brought pride, belief, and hope back into the life-line of the American Populace; I was reminded of some text that was shared among a few of my colleagues while studying at the Berean Institute. The author was unknown. I have attempted to locate this person who wrote a profound passage that has and shall remain engrained in my mind and I think in the minds of a few others as well. The following passage resonates with many men (and women) of color as well as the identification of the text therein:

“The Un-Obscure”

http://blackinamerica.com/content/114073/the-un-obscure

Will our profound and promising direction make a change as well as an impression; an example for the entire world to see the truth of it? Will the overcoming of inhibition make a difference… a correction in the lives…in the minds of people? We shall see!

Til Next Time…

Current.Bus.crd.1_8.17.15

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2013/04/08/the-ghost-writer-interviews/

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The Books of Boulware

/*

~ “The Execution of Justice and The Killing of Misconduct” ~

akhenatenhat_3.22.15

By

Gregory V. Boulware

/*

Periodically, I go back to my old neighborhood in Germantown to hang out with the fellas. Ron is one of the Brothers that I tend to sit with on his front porch of Baynton St. He told me of an incident while seated in this serene and wonderfully peaceful setting. He and another good Brother whom I know to be a good man as well were sitting out on the porch too, when a cop pointed and shined a search light on them. The gentlemen that I happen to visit with are all over the age of fifty while many of us are over sixty years of age.

I’ve often wondered what goes through the mind of any police officer who happens to be a person of color. Do they… is their first and foremost loyalty to their people and culture or to their family in blue? Why is it that Black Officers often abuse their positions and practice bullying on their respective culture-sharers; people who look like them, or simply preying on Black Men in particular? How do Black Police Officers feel; what do they think, how do they feel after they have learned that a Black Life has been taken; another Black Life that has been taken by a white police officer, regardless of what part of the country (or world) it happened?

Eighteen-year-old Michael Brown Jr., was shot and killed by a white cop in Ferguson Mo. Former police officer Darren Wilson’s actions sparked national and international protests after witnesses insisted the teenager was surrendering. The officer reportedly ignored the plea not to shoot. He shot him anyway.

The cop fired seven bullets into the son of Lesley McSpadden and Michael Brown Sr. The young man’s body laid in the street for more than four and one-half hours as law enforcement with nearly twenty dogs, barricading the area and would not allow anyone to approach or go near the slain child. His hysterical and horrified Mother was also not allowed to touch her dead son’s body.

“Forty-three year old Samuel DuBose was shot in the head and killed by (then) University of Cincinnati Police Officer Ray Tensing after a traffic stop. Brother DuBose was pulled over for having a missing front plate on his car. Justice made an entrance with an attempt to rectify this murder when a Hamilton County Grand Jury returned an indictment of murder and voluntary manslaughter against Tensing who was also fired from the police department.

A Texas State Trooper stopped Sister Sandra Bland on July 10th, 2015, for an inconsequential traffic offense and she ended up dead in a Waller County Jail Cell! The authorities continually insisted that she hanged herself with a plastic bag. Anyone and Most Everyone know better than that. It is common knowledge across the country when you are arrested and booked; everything on a person’s body has to been confiscated. This protocol or rule is especially targeted for belts, shoestrings, neckties, longer-than usual socks, strings, weapons, and most everything else – oh yes, plastic bags too. As it is, their explanation of what was or is available in a jail cell, it’s a built-into-the-wall-combination sink and toilet; there is no individual trash can! Now if they provided room-service with your continental breakfast, maid service, and a bathroom cleaning, it’s quite possible for Sister Bland to have the availability of a plastic bag long enough and strong enough in order to hang herself.

We will not forget the ‘killing choke-hold’ of the Brother in New York or ‘Amado Diallo’ either. He was shot and killed in a barrage of police gunfire after reaching for his wallet inside the doorway of his home, the Brother who was shot while running away from a white cop for a traffic violation, and not to mention the many other reported and unreported atrocities against unarmed non-dangerous Black, Red, Brown, and White citizens.

“The U.S. Must Reform Its Laws On The Use Of Deadly Force By Police”

These deaths have revealed the deep-wounds of “American Racism and White Supremacy” for the World to see. However, it was the ‘Intrepid Young Black Men and Women on the ground who challenged the authorities, police officers, dogs, and the military style vehicles and equipment. They faced rubber bullets, tear gas, and other weapons containing live rounds. Their endeavored courage and diligence has prevailed in gaining the attention of people across the country and around the world.

black-jesus-45345.inchains_3.1.15

Ron went on to tell me of the disturbing situation. “The cop shined his light on us while we sat on the porch. Then, Ray shouted for him to get that light out of my face. Ron said that he attempted to stop Ray from saying anything, it was too late; the cop got out of the car and approached us. He then came up on the porch and said to me “what are you guys doing?’ I replied, “we’re just sitting and chillin.” He then said “well you’re not sitting and chillin anymore…” The cop then proceeded to accost me by trying to get handcuffs on my wrists. Two or three more cop cars rolled up and shined their lights on all of us. They shouted to their colleague, “That’s not him!” And they rolled off. This individual froze when the lights hit. He must have realized that he had no reason to pick on us. So he took my identification back to his car and ran a make on me. He came back to me with a ticket; a summons. I asked what it was for, he replied, “You have outstanding warrants on you for traffic offenses.” He then left and did come back around the block in his cruiser. He gave us a look. All of the neighbors were out in force at that time. I suspect they were waiting to see if anything was going to happen. It almost did when the cop tried to arrest me. My buddies got up from their chairs while the cop’s partner drew his weapon.”

Now the way I see it is, why did the cop hassle these particular senior citizens in the first place? The Brothers did tell me that they, the cops, were looking for a Black Bald Man in and Orange tee-shirt. Ron continued to tell me that on that particular day, there was a neighborhood block party where all or most of the participants were wearing orange tees for whatever the reason… The day was a pretty hot one, Saturday August 15, 2015 to be exact.

“STAND UP FOR JUSTICE”

Again, I wonder what Black Philadelphia Officers think when another Black Life has been taken by white police officers.

Philadelphia has a really decent group of Black Police Officers. James (‘Jimmy’) Clark, a Homicide Detective, then Captain Singletary, formerly of the 14th Police District in Germantown, Richard Ross, and Commissioner Charles Ramsey are just a few off the top of my head. The Community Police contact officer, ‘Officer Johns’ should be mentioned as well for his contributions to Germantown neighborhoods as well.

I’m from the old-school. We mostly didn’t fraternize with the cops in our hood. We knew them from their patrolling our neighborhood areas where we grew up in North Philly, South Philly, East Falls, Roxborough, Manayunk, and of course our beloved ‘Germantown.’ We knew those cops because they were on the street walking and riding. They knew all the kids by name; they knew their parents and their parents – all by name and house locations. The folks in the neighborhood knew their names too. They were the real cops of the hood! Where have they all gone? We sorely miss them and want them back.

tumblr_n64rcpSnl41tqu7vbo10_1280.Yaa_3.29.15

At the particular block-party, the patrolling cops should have gotten out of their cars and said hello to as many participants as possible, shake a few hands, and show a friendly face to let us; them know that they were there as friends to serve and protect.

The cops were supposed to be looking for a Black man accused of domestic abuse. He was standing up on the other corner watching the ordeal go down. I asked Ron why he didn’t point him out to the hassling cop. His reply was, “Man I was so angry, I just didn’t want to do anything for or have anything to do with this cop at the time. However, I would have ‘snitched’ on his ass in a heartbeat under better circumstances.”

“We Are Not Asking For Justice, We Are Demanding Justice!” ‘Stand Up For Justice – Justice or Else October 10, 2015, in Washington D.C. – Spread the word!

http://www.Justiceorelse.com

 shaka.Zulu_3.25.15

Til Next Time…

*/

Acknowledgements:

Richard B. Muhammad and Janiah Muhammad, Final Call Staffers, August 4, 2015

J.A. Salaam, Staff Writer, Final Call. August 4, 2015

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