Category: Thriller


~ “Ranger” ~


By
Gregory V. Boulware
http://chocolatepagesnetwork.com/content/367444/ranger
https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2021/06/25/ranger/

The legacy of Juneteenth is not just one of celebration and freedom. Juneteenth also recognizes a legacy of the U.S. government’s broken promises and dereliction of duty to Black people. This legacy rarely ever punished police for the many murders of Black people. We see it in systems of white supremacy which continue to deny Black people equal housing, equal employment, equal health care, equal education, and so much more. Would there be more ‘Lynchings, Black-Body-Burnings, and Shootings if not for today’s technology and the ownership of millions, if not trillions of ‘Cell-Phone-Owners and Users’ World-Wide, capturing these evil-doings by so many “Evil-Doers?” Even with these ‘IT’ abilities, accountability is a very highly elusive exercise; if not many individuals who happen to be white would most certainly be prosecuted and convicted. However, there was one case were a Black Man was able to avoid prosecution by law enforcement. This individual happened to also be a high ranking Philadelphia Cop who was caught on cell-phone-video striking and knocking to the ground, a ‘Latino Woman.’ He said she threw something at him and hit him in the face. The video showed a different story.

George Perry Floyd Jr. (October 14, 1973 – May 25, 2020) was an African American man murdered by a police officer during an arrest after a store clerk suspected he may have used a counterfeit $20 bill in Minneapolis. Black people have faced rampant and often violent voter suppression ever since we were “freed” and given the right to vote. Yet Senate Republicans keep gaslighting us by claiming that since Black voter turnout was high in 2020, that since brilliant, innovative organizers were able to help communities overcome barriers to voting, that those barriers don’t exist.

As contemporary Native American religious flowerings are best understood by first examining the origins of Native American Spirituality, all of the contemporary sects are best comprehended in light of the traditional religions. As these differ from their New Age and Christian versions, each group is also unique compared to other traditional sects. These traditional sects are best understood as a conglomerate by investigating a few individual traditional Native American religions.

The only lynching to occur in Delaware happened in Wilmington in 1903. Normally when you think of lynching you think of hanging but the definition of the word is an illegal execution carried out by a mob, often by hanging, but also by burning at the stake or shooting. The term lynching probably derived from the name Charles Lynch (1736-96), a justice of the peace who administered rough justice in Virginia. But none of those fine nuances probably went thru George F. White’s head the night he was roped and bounded and thrown into a fire to burn to death.

Community members are outraged after a high school team experienced blatant racism during a championship game Saturday. The game took place between Orange Glen High School and Coronado High School in California. After the game, which Coronado won, Orange Glen Head Coach Chris Featherly said Coronado Head Coach J.D. Laaperi made disrespectful remarks toward both him and his players, but that’s not all. Coronado supporters took the sports rivalry to another level when they threw tortillas at Orange Glen players, who are mostly Latino, The San Diego Union-Tribune reported.

“Given the history of racism and consistent racist acts school members have committed in sports, advocates believe if the behavior is not punished, it will continue.”

Native American Tribes did not call their medicine people “Shamans.” This is a New Age term often misapplied to Native American Spiritual Leaders by people of European descent, self-professed “medicine” people and their followers. The medicine men and priests among the Indians were usually merely those men who thought more deeply and strenuously than the average men in the tribe.

Chief Gerald Glenn, the Medicine Man, was second only to the chief in importance and standing within his tribal group. His duties involved both religious interpretations and pharmacology. A good medicine man became adept at both and as a result, he was often thought of as one who possessed magical powers. Before William Penn’s holy experiment, human impact in the Pocono Mountains by Native Americans and European settlers was minimal.

The Pennsylvania Mountains was one of the last colonies to be settled in the northern region of the state. The region remained wilderness until pressure from European settlers caused and influx of Native Americans from Maryland and the Carolinas’. Glenn, a direct descendent of the Lenape Chieftain of the Penn and Lenape Peace Treaty, 1682, Chief Tammany who died in 1718, was his great-great-grandfather. His wife, a Huron Princess, reared sons who took over as Chief of Nations along the Delaware Water Gap. They lived in peace with the residents of Stroudsburg, founded by Jacob Stroud in 1799.

The villages of the mountains raised buckwheat and rye, a big crop with potatoes, maze, oats, cattle, sheep, and hogs. Chief of his village as well as Chief of the Northeastern regional Forestry and Parks Services, Ranger Captain Glenn; like his people, are also members of the Northwestern Indian Confederacy in the Mountains of Pennsylvania, New York, and Canada. The tribal members are The Cree, The Creek, The Ottawa, The Seminole, The Huron, The Cherokee, The Algonquian, The Ojibwa, The Shawnee, and The Lenape Nations. Glenn continues his leadership in the protection of his people, their land, their tribal beliefs, and their heritage. Glenn’s mother was of Creek/Seminole descent while his father was the Tribal Chief of The Shawnee-Lenape (Munsee-Minisink) of Ontario Canada and the Poconos.

Glenn, a strikingly tall, slender, well muscled, powerful man of more than 6ft. in height, was requested by officials to assist the Philadelphia Fairmount Park Commission and its’ staff of Park Rangers, on a case to which he has the greatest expertise, big game and bears. There were rumors of an enormous beast roaming about. Several of the parks’ city rangers were tight-lipped about some of the strange things that have recently been discovered in the area. Expensive shrubbery and some of the exotic plants were destroyed along with missing wildlife as well. These happenings were occurring a few weeks before the North Philadelphia boys were attacked. On that day is when he and Captain Samuel Willis were first introduced. The introduction was one of an informal atmosphere. The day of their meeting began with that awful and unfortunate fatal attack in ‘Fairmount Park,’ atop the hill on “Strawberry Mansion Drive.”

Fear was the factor in their meeting atop that hill, that particular day. His was an expertise of rare quality. No one knew bears and wildlife the way he did. This ranger could tell what kind of animal, plant, or bug that ever left a trace of anything, anywhere. He was a natural for his job. He was one of a kind. He was…is the best of the best. Gerald Glenn was not a city boy, albeit his educational endeavors and early work environment began in the brick and mortar jungle of mayhem, danger, and deceit. When the opportunity arrived, and allowed him to work out in the “great-outdoors,” mostly in park-lands, fields, streams, lakes, rivers, and mountainous regions. He loved it.

Gerald didn’t study nature or the natural habitat in college. He was a natural. After all, he did grow up in the Pocono Mountain part of the state. His tenure in Alaska came about when another opportunity of animal complaint and an invitation to investigate crossed his career path. Bear attacks were not necessarily common-place in the Yukon, but they did occur. They were mostly caused by man-made carelessness. Learning to navigate and travel in those types of terrain were exactly what The Ranger craved. Some would say that he was anti-social. Gerald Glenn simply didn’t like the bullshit that man and his hypocritical way of life had to offer. Animals, according to the ranger, didn’t go around killing each other just for the sake of killing. They had purpose to their natural order of life. They only killed when they needed to eat or defend themselves. Man killed for the sport of it, hypocrisy, jealousy, and/or selfishness were the culprits…the children of Mammon.

Gerald Glenn, Genailia Francis, and Willice Samuel walked through the patch of rhododendron and azalea bushes to examine the grassy spot near the Strawberry Mansion Bridge. Ranger Glenn removed the sample of plant leaf and soil from a plastic bag while pointing to the spot he had examined during the initial search around the cherry blossom tree. Professor Vernon Rockford entered the hunt alongside the team a wee bit later. The paw-print, nearly gone after being exposed for more than ten days, gave Francis and Samuel a fright. Now the captain knew why the ranger had that strange look on his face the day the boys were attacked. “Damn, do they actually grow to be that big?” The ranger gave Willis a look, and answered, “You’d better know it! In the Yukon, they grow bigger than that!”

The regatta has been held annually on the Schuylkill River in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, since 1953. The Dad Vail Regatta is the largest regular intercollegiate rowing event in the United States, drawing over a hundred colleges and universities from North America. It was renamed the Aberdeen Dad Vail Regatta in 2010 for new sponsor Aberdeen Asset Management, a Scottish investment firm whose U.S. operations are headquartered in Center City Philadelphia. A regatta is a series of boat races. The term typically describes racing events of rowed or sailed water craft, although some powerboat race series are also called regattas. A regatta often includes social and promotional activities which surround the racing event, and except in the case of boat type (or “class”) championships, is usually named for the town or venue where the event takes place. Oh yes, this major event wasn’t exempt from this invasion of the monster bruins.

On that memorable day, Captain Willice Samuel; just before meeting his new life-long friend; stood looking over the edge of the cliff, peering down onto the East river Drive. The screaming sirens of emergency vehicles filled the normally quiet environment of park life. Speeding past the stopped traffic below, the EMR vehicles made their way up the hill to the spot where the kids were playing. The Strawberry Mansion Bridge was at a stand-still as was the East River Drive traffic. Nothing and no one was being allowed to move through the area. Traffic backed up all over. Ridge Avenue was being over-run with the over flow of rush hour traffic. Both river drives, East and West, were backed up in the East Falls area of Midvale Avenue into Henry Avenue. The downtown out bound traffic was a mess. The local news on automobile radios reported the traffic mess as an accident in the park.

Willice Samuel’s family arrived up North from Georgia by way of Winnsboro, South Carolina. The family settled in Coatesville Pennsylvania, in or about April 1911.

Willice’s Great-Great Grandfather talked about a lynching and burned at the stake murder of a Black Man by a mob of white men who wore masks. He said the Black Man; named Zachariah Walker was accused of shooting to death a white cop; named Edgar Rice. He was supposed to have been a special police officer in Coatesville.

He went on to say, “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. He was then thrown into the fire. The flames burned his clothes and seared his flesh – he managed to leap from the fire-pile and jump over a fence. They caught him and tied a rope around his neck and dragged him back onto the burning fire. Walker tried two more times to get out of the bonfire. He tried to get out of the seething furnace of hell. But he was beaten and pulled back on the burning pile with each try.”

Great-Great-Grandpa continued on with the graphic details. “The sickening smell of burning flesh permeated the air. Folks came from all around to see and take pictures of the burning Black Man. They laughed and drank liquor. Their children had fun too. This all happened on or around Saturday April 12, 1911…we packed and moved to Philadelphia.” The Willice’s are descendants of America’s lucrative Industry of Black Slavery.

Seventeen-year-old Helen S. Bishop (a white woman) was robbed, raped, and had her throat cut by someone. Helen Bishop was the daughter of Rev. Dr. Elwell and Clara Bishop. On June 15th, 1903 the police arrested George F. White an ex-convict and a Black man for the assault. On June 16th Helen Bishop died of her injuries, the coroner’s return of a death report put the cause of death as “ Shock Caused By Maltreatment.” George White was moved to the newly built workhouse in Price Corners. The public was inflamed over the girl death and demanded an immediate trial for George White.

The Sunday, June 21st, Sermon of the Reverend Robert A. Elwood (Wilmington Olivet Presbyterian Church) was a fiery one in which he showed blood-stained leaves from the site of Helen Bishop’s assault. He called for swift justice. Ellwood had came to Wilmington in 1899 and assumed the pastorate of the Olivet Presbyterian Church. He was known for his sensational methods in delivering sermons etc. at one time he was involved in charges of doing violence to church law but was acquitted on trial by the New Castle Presbytery.

Ellwood would say afterwards; “I am very sorry it happened as it did. I believe the man should have had a legal trial, but I also believe that he should have had a speedy trial. The lesson we can learn from last night’s outbreak is that people are tired of the delays of the law.”

On June 22nd at 10pm there was an attack by several thousand people on the New Castle County workhouse. This was at a time when Wilmington had about 11,000 people of which 70% was white. The police knew it was coming and reinforced the workhouse staff. They attempted to repel the attackers with water hoses and shooting over their heads. In the mob was 15 year old Peter Smith. He was hit in the back with a bullet and died on June 24th from the wound. He was the son of Michael and Fannie Smith.

The mob broke into the workhouse and took George White from his cell. They tied him up and took him back to the scene where Helen Bishop was killed. He gave a confession that he cut the throat of Helen Bishop. He was tied to a stake and a fire was started. He broke loose at least once when the fire had burnt the ropes on his legs and he was caught, beat, and thrown back in the fire. It was over with by 2 AM. The fire could be seen from the porch of Helen Bishop’s parents.

The next day thousands of people visited the scene of the lynching. Some sifted thru the ashes for relics ranging from bones to a foot to pieces of burnt wood. The coroner visited the scene and picked up the largest parts which was a small portion of the trunk and a couple of charred bones.

Most people involved started the excuse process the day after the lynching; Judges said they couldn’t have done a speedy trial. The Police said they couldn’t stop several thousand people from breaking into the work house. Everyone said the leaders of the Lynching were from out of state, not us. In general, Delaware said it was an unfortunate circumstance.

The mother of Helen Bishop, Clara, would die due to the shock of the event within the next couple of years.”

In another racial incident; community members are outraged after a high school team experienced blatant racism during a championship game Saturday. The game took place between Orange Glen High School and Coronado High School in California. After the game, which Coronado won, Orange Glen Head Coach Chris Featherly said Coronado Head Coach J.D. Laaperi made disrespectful remarks toward both him and his players, but that’s not all. Coronado supporters took the sports rivalry to another level when they threw tortillas at Orange Glen players, who are mostly Latino, The San Diego Union-Tribune reported.

Videos shared on social media depict at least two players from Coronado, a predominantly white school, throwing tortillas. According to The San Diego Union-Tribune, witnesses shared that there were several heated moments on and off the court during the game that preceded the tortilla incident. While the school board and school district discussed disciplinary action against the students involved in the tortilla throwing Tuesday, no action against them was taken The San Diego Union-Tribune reported. Instead, Laaperi, the head coach of the team that threw the tortillas was fired. Further comments on the incident, what action will be taken, and whether or not the incident will be deemed racist have not been made at this time. Members of the Orange Glen team, specifically the Latino players, were extremely disturbed, Orange Glen Assistant Coach Lizardo Reynoso told CBS San Diego. “They understand that there’s a lot of racism and hate going on today, but to top that off with a defeat after working so hard all year, it’s like a slap in the face,” Reynoso said.

The school district has since apologized, but that doesn’t make the experience any better for the students and those who attended the game. “The Trustees of the Coronado Unified School District acknowledge these acts to be egregious, demeaning and disrespectful,” the district said in a letter to Orange Glen Monday. The letter continued by noting that the trustees condemned “the racism, classism and colorism which fueled the actions of the perpetrators.”

The California Interscholastic Federation (CIF) also issued a statement noting that it would work with both schools to address the matter and take the “appropriate next steps.”

The Escondido Union High School District where Orange Glen is located also said it has been in contact with the Coronado Unified School District regarding what actions will be taken against those involved. The school boards plan to meet Tuesday to discuss the matter.

“Unfortunately a community member brought tortillas and distributed them which was unacceptable and racist in nature,” Laaperi said on Twitter. “I do not condone this behavior. Coronado High School does not condone this behavior and is already taking appropriate action.”

According to the Coronado Police Department, which was called to help clear the gym after the game, a man was identified as the individual responsible for bringing the tortillas to the game. “We are extremely disturbed by the behavior of some of those attending last night’s basketball game. Their actions are completely unacceptable,” the department said in a statement. Investigations into the incident are ongoing. While the school district vowed to take action and apologized for the incident, not every member of Coronado’s team believed the incident was wrong. The Chicano Federation shared an Instagram post by a Coronado High School basketball account that claimed the tortilla toss is not racist but known as a tradition at other schools. The since-deleted post compared tossing tortillas at players to tossing confetti.

According to a statement by the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC), this ideology is shared by members of the Coronado Parent-Teacher-Organization (PTO) Facebook who claimed that “throwing tortillas is like heaving ‘Frisbees’ or ‘graduation caps’ into the air as a ‘celebratory action’.”

“Coronado supporters are trying to play the victim here saying the reaction to the tortilla tossing is ‘extremely upsetting’ to them. Try walking in the shoes of those struck by their projectiles,” the statement issued by LULAC National President Domingo Garcia continued. The incident comes as the third of its kind that has been condemned as racist in San Diego County high school sports. Last year racist photos of students were circulated, with some depicting players holding up gang signs. In 2019, another incident occurred in which students from the football team were taunted with racial slurs, The San Diego Union-Tribune reported.

“We should have universal condemnation of this activity,” Assemblywoman Lorena Gonzalez-Fletcher said on Twitter while sharing her own daughter’s experience of racism as a student-athlete. Parents in SD County know that racist taunts against latino athletes are too commonplace. It’s time to stop it.

“Teach your kids not to be racist,” she continued. “Tortillas are for eating, not throwing.” Gonzalez-Fletcher also called for CIF officials to strip the school of its championship.

Others shared similar sentiments, including the California Latino Legislative Caucus leadership, which issued a statement Monday noting that “there must be consequences … We call on CIF to take strong action to hold the responsible students and school accountable for these hateful, violating acts,” the statement said.

Given the history of racism and consistent racist acts school members have committed in sports, advocates believe if the behavior is not punished, it will continue.

Action needs to be taken, and I think the action should be that Coronado should forfeit that game,” Social justice advocate Enrique Morones said. “These hate acts, they got to be called out. We cannot accept it. These are young people. They obviously have been influenced maybe by their parents or their friends, and we got to call it out.

“If people find out exactly what happened, I believe that the majority of the community will be against these types of actions,” Morones said.

Ranger Gerald Glenn had a felling that something was wrong in Philadelphia. Something was wrong with his friend…he made arrangements to get back to Philly. While packing, the telephone rang. It was ‘Elizabeth,’ Willices’ wife. Willice was in the hospital, he’d been shot. The Ranger packed with an overwhelming sense of urgency, his plane leaves in two hours. It would take more than a rush for he and Genailia to get packed and out to the airport just in time to make the flight.

While we celebrate the; federal government and President Joseph Biden’s; Declaration of Juneteenth as a National Holiday, we must not lose sight of the ongoing work of true liberation still happening to get Black people equal access to the ballot, protection from murderous law enforcement, affordable reproductive care, freedom from over policing and mass incarceration, and fair immigration policy, among so many other examples of systemic racism that plague our communities.

Don’t know about Juneteenth? Read up on it folks, ask someone if they knew about this unmentioned Black Holiday. There’s more to institutionalized, standardized American culture than meets the eye; get a bit closer to realizing America’s promises to enslaved Africans and their descendants.

Meanwhile, the adventure of “Fairmount” continues. Captain Samuel Willis, Ranger Gerald Glenn, and team have faced the number one killer in the City of Philadelphia has brought them unwanted noteriety in the wake of saving the city from a most dangerously horrible killing machine. What’s harboring hatred for the team as the Ranger rushes back to Philadelphia in hopes of providing aid to his dear friend. His friend who has been seriously injured by gunfire…this plague upon mankind and civilization, Guns and Racism…in the highest order. At what end will these two professional law-men find peace in their lives, what do the racist fanatics have in store for them? Will they be able to overcome the forces that hunt them – threatening their lives and the lives of the ones they hold near and dear?

Follow the “Chronicles of Fairmount,” Terror in the Park and The Willis Samuel Investigations.

Til Next Time…

~ “SANKOFA” ~

Acknowledgements/Credits:

George Perry Floyd Jr. (October 14, 1973 – May 25, 2020) was an African American man murdered by a police officer during an arrest after a store clerk suspected he may have used a counterfeit $20 bill in Minneapolis.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_George_Floyd

‘SHAMAN’
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=Shaman%2C+Gregory+V.+Boulware
Fairmount – “SHAMAN”…Fairmount Showing 1-3 of 3
http://www.goodreads.com › topic › show
Oct 25, 2013 · “SHAMAN” By Gregory V. Boulware /* The medicine men and priests among the Indians were usually merely those men who thought more deeply and strenuously than the average men in the tribe. These thinkers tended to live among the more successful tribes. To think, one needed at least some time free from the chore of procuring food.
“SHAMAN” | BoulwareEnterprises_”The World In Words”
boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com › 2013/10/25 › shaman

‘Howard’
The Northern Delaware Lynching of 1903
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=George+White%2C+1903%2C+Delaware+Lynching
Delmar Historical And Art Society
The society will bring together those people interested in history and art in the Delmar area Our Email address is delmarhas@yahoo.com
Sunday, June 7, 2015
The Northern Delaware Lynching of 1903

Irna Landrum, Daily Kos
Re: For Juneteenth Support Black-led organizations working toward liberation:
Yahoo
/
Inbox
Daily Kos campaigns@dailykos.com
To:
gvb1210me@yahoo.com

Mostly Latino high school basketball team taunted by audience throwing tortillas at players
By
Aysha Qamar
Daily Kos Staff
https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2021/6/22/2036489/-Tossing-tortillas-at-players-is-equivalent-to-tossing-confetti-California-high-school-team-says?detail=emailLL
Aysha Qamar
Wednesday, Jun 23, 2021 · 5:44:51 PM EDT ·
The San Diego Union-Tribune reported.

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“My name is ‘Eduardo Tirilius Williams Hushmanzata”

“By The Light Of The Silvery Moon”

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq. 

http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/by-the-light-of-the-silvery-moon

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2020/10/16/my-name-is-eduardo-tirilius-williams-hushmanzata/

Epilogue:
Their mapping itinerary worked out quite well… The rain was dropping like stones in the bucket, wet, hard, and loud. The rental car leaked through what seemed like every orifice and crack. The heater/defroster didn’t work all that great either. However, they made it to their destination in one piece. The weather, they thought, was odd. It rained hard all the way out there from town. But when they arrived at the Keep, it stopped and seemed a bit warm with a great deal of fog. The fog rolled in thickly. They couldn’t drive the car up the muddy hill and didn’t dare attempt at driving over the dark field area for fear of getting stuck in the bogging moor.

 

~ ‘The Loch Of Satanus’ ~
The story was repeatedly told by demonologists with regard to ‘Lycanthropy.’ The increase in trials for witchcraft at the end of the sixteenth century led people to believe a man could actually become a lycanthrope or werewolf – “Loup Garu!”

 

A Protestant Physician, Casper Peucer, told of the full-blown conception of Witches’ going to a Sabbat, led to the assumption of parallel gatherings of Wolves.

Brother Joseph, a guide within the ‘Keep,‘ guided the rain-soaked couple: Eddie and Isabelle to another guide, the “Guardian Watcher, Brother Jerome.” He began to tell a tale to which they should be aware.

A Fox was one day talking to a wolf about the strength of Man. The wolf claimed the title for being stronger and smarter.
“No animals,” he said, “could withstand man and they were obliged to use cunning to hold their own against him.”
The wolf answered, “If ever I happened to see a man, I should attack him all the same.”
“Well, I can help you do that,” said the fox. “Come to me early tomorrow, and I will show you one.”

The wolf was early to rise and the fox took him out to a road in the forest, traversed daily by a huntsman. First an old discharged soldier came.
“Is that a man,” asked the wolf?
“No,” answered the fox. “He has been a man.”
After that, a little boy appeared on his way to school.
“Is that a man?”
“No, he is going to be a man.”

At last the huntsman made his appearance, his gun on his back, and his hunting-knife at his side. The fox said to the wolf – “Look! Here comes a man. You may attack him, but I will make off to my hole!”

The wolf set on the man, who said to himself when he saw him. “What a pity my gun isn’t loaded with a leaden-metal ball!” He fired a charge of black powder in the wolf’s face. The wolf made a wry face, but was not frightened, and attacked him again.
The huntsman gave the wolf a second charge. The beast swallowed the pain, and rushed at the huntsman again. This time he drew his bright and shiny but large hunting-knife, and slashed out to the left and to the right with it. The blade struck home and smeared itself with streaming red blood! The wolf ran back to the fox and said:
“Brother Fox, Brother Fox!”
…The fox turned to the wolf and asked, “How did you get on with the man?”
“Brother Fox. I’ll tell you this – I never thought the strength of man would be what is is. First, he took a stick from his shoulder and blew into it, and something flew into my face; which tickled frightfully. Then he blew into it again, and it flew into my eyes and nose like lightning and hail – then he drew a shiny rib out of his body, and struck at me with it until I was more dead than alive!”
The fox looked up at the wolf and asked, “Why are you clutching your haunches with both (paws) hands?”
Well Brother Fox, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit or make a discharge from my rectum again. I do believe that I will be dead momentarily. Not only did the shiny broad and sharp rib cut at me real good, I heard the man scream out:
“If I do not have at the ready, a black leaden-metal ball, I sure as hell have these silver ones. I then heard and saw the black powder explosion from the stick he carried. I turned to run but fell down when the shiny orb struck and pierced my behind. The pain that I felt was indescribable. It felt nothing like the orbs thrown at me before. They only itched after contact and caused me to scratch. But this one has caused me to bleed and feel pain – this pain along with the pain and bleeding caused by his big shiny and sharpened rib. I feel my strength and consciousness ebbing Brother Fox. I am dying while man is stronger than we…”

“Now you see,” said the fox, “what a braggart you are. You’ve thrown your toothy face out so far that you can’t get it back again.”

Eddie and Isabelle were left standing there, facing each other. They turned to question Brother Joseph. He was gone. Brother Jerome was no where to be seen as well.
The broad oaken door in front of them, slowly, very slowly opened along with the sound of an eerie blood curdling and groaning creek.

“Come in, enter and be seated my children.” The loud and strongly masterful commanding voice frightened them. Seated behind a large desk of wooden antiquity was the tall and sinister figure of Brother Jerome.

The sound of a howl and a loud strong bone-chilling growl emanated from the shadows and aided the two in hurrying into the quarters and presence of the Keeps’ (castle) number one occupant.

“You have no doubt been educated of our world perplexing dilemma and responsibility by the good Brothers, have you not?”

The uneasy travelers trembled slightly in his presence. “Yes Brother Jerome!”

“I can’t emphasize enough the gravest of dangers awaiting the world; have been securely suppressed and confined within the walls of this Keep. Recently the ‘Father’ of all evil escaped from imprisonment due to the interaction with an outsider. His invasive and damaging intervention allowed for such an atrocity to occur. We’ve warned him in every way possible…to no avail. We have pleaded with him while we aided in his healing! All we wanted him to do was leave us in peace…leave us in our world of solitude; our business! We entertained and enlightened him. How did he re-pay our indulgences and hospitable generosities? He did not take heed to our warnings! It was he who aided in the re-releasing of that horrible man-killing entity upon the vulnerable existence of mankind! The goodness of it all is his intrepid search and tracking of the beast. Along with the aid of sanctuary Brothers across the globe, we will soon have him back inside, with the ‘Grace and Will of GOD!
And now we have you two… Can you not wonder why we do not offer or accept hospitality or sanctuary from or to outsiders?”

Brother Jerome held their full attention. When Eduardo and Isabelle attempted to explain their reasons for the intrusion, the Holy-Many shrugged and waved for them to stop talking.
“I am fully aware of why you are here and how you have come upon us. So that we fully understand what it is you intend to do from this point forward, remains to be seen.
In order for us to properly protect you while you are here, we must provide you with as much pertinent information as heavenly possible. You will need to arm yourselves – prepare yourselves, should we fail to do so; no man-made weapons will defeat this evil. The only salvation is guidance from the ‘Most-High’ and his humble but vigilant disciples.”

Brother Jerome reached for a book high up on the highest of shelves in the northwest well of his office. The volume was old and dusty but firm and fully intact. The thickness of it readily suggested an abundance of recorded knowledge.
The Holy-Man sat back down behind his opulent oaken desk while motioning the travelers to do the same. He then fumbled about the inside of his robes and produced a small pair of reading spectacles. The brother proceeded in further espoused enlightenment. He leafed through a few pages before reading to them samples of the text therein:
It is said that once a lion planned to go live in another land. Then all the beasts held a convention. He told them all of his intention, and they ‘should select a king.'” He thought he’d not be back again. The beasts requested that he provide another lion. He answered that he had no heir. He had not raised one – he did not dare. Among themselves must be their guest to find the one who’d govern best. And thus it was they who chose the wolf, for no one else was bold enough to dare take anyone but he (even though all of them thought the wolf was a villain).
Yet, he assured them all, and swore he’d love them best forever. They went to the lion next and picked a clever beast, extremely fast and versatile, provided that his heart and will were as they ought to be – sincere.
But one thing caused the lion fear – that the wolf for counselor would pick the fox who knew well how to trick; both are insidious and base.
If from the wolf they wanted peace, on Holy relics, he must swear that he’d touch no beast anywhere and that forever he would not eat any meat, no matter what.
The wolf then most willingly swore to more than what was asked of him. But when he had been bound by oath, and whether lion set out, the wolf had a vicious craving for some meat. He made plans for deceitful purposes. He intended to get the beasts to all agree and give him leave accordingly.
The wolf then summoned a ‘Doe-Deer,’ and secretly questioned her. If for his love of truth, she would tell about wolf’s breath – how did it smell?
She said it smelled terrible, almost unbearable! The wolf was very angry then. He sent a summons to his men… He questioned all those who had come. He asked them what kind of sentence would be given when someone spoke such things to his Lord’s face, such words of shame, slur, and disgrace. Should this one die? They all attested. The wolf then had the deer arrested. While they all watched, he killed the deer and ate the better part of her. To help cover his crime, he proclaimed that he’d share portions of the kill, what remained, with them.

After his hunger pangs had ceased, he called for another beast. He questioned her in the same way as the first. How smelled his breath – what would she say? The poor thing would much rather lie than tell the truth for fear of suffering and death. So she replied that she would know of and smelled no scent. It was fragrant and very excellent.
The wolf summoned his cabinet and asked his barons, when they met, what punishment he should decree to one who would lie so deceitfully. They all judged that she must die. When they caught her, they brought her before the wolf. He killed her, tearing her limb-from-limb, and ate her all up…right in front of them.
Time passed. The wolf observed a monkey. He was fat and quite well fed. Oh how he had coveted that monkey. He desperately wanted to eat him, to devour him.
One day, the wolf went to him. He inquired about his breath – did it stink or smell quite sweet – “what do you think?”
The monkey was extremely sly. He was in no way intending to die. So he replied that he didn’t know. The wolf didn’t know what to do. The monkey could not be condemned because no intended harm was done.
The wolf went to bed feigning illness. He complained to all the beasts. He thought he would never get well. They all came in turn, paying him a call. They sent out for doctors so that they may know if he’d be well again. The doctors were all at a loss to know. None of them found or saw a thing wrong nor could they find a cause. There was no injury to cause such a mood. If only he would desire some food!
“I have desired food, good doctors. I have entertained no other wish for some time now. I have had no other wish except to eat some monkey flesh. Of course you know of My Oath, where I loath to touch another beast unless I can justify it very well; my barons could ratify it!”

They all gathered together and gave this view:
“That is what he must do. There is no cure for what ails his heart’s desire, No cure.”
Their remedies could not be sure. When the Wolf-King heard of what they advocated, he seized the monkey, killed him, and ate him. On all in turn, one-by-one, sentence was passed:
His oath to none of them was fast or sure.
Thus, by the the wise man, we are taught that we, no matter what, must not ever make a wicked man ‘Seignior,’ nor show such a one honor.
His loyalty is as much a pretense with strangers as it is with his close friends. And toward his people he will, at as did the wolf, with his sworn pact.

Brother Jerome closed the book and stared at the man and woman, of what seemed like a long moment in time.

 

“They say there is no sin in killing a beast, only in killing a man… But where does one begin and the other end?”

 

Isabelle and Eduardo looked at one another and then back at Brother Jerome in bewilderment. They had no answer to give.
Brother Jerome smiled and rose to his feet. He walked over to the bookshelf and returned the big book to its proper place. Breaking the silence, he asked, “Why is it, the so-called educated, do not have or acquire the good sense of knowing better?”

Brother Jerome walked over to the only window in his office and peered up at the brightly shinning full moon. It provided a brilliant light against the blackened night-time sky. It cast a broad spectrum of white, silver, and gray light over all that was touched by its glow. He mentioned for the pair to come over and join his gaze.
Once they arrived, he pointed to a field of shrubbery. It appeared like a field of black foliage in the night. The brother explained to them in the day light, the plants are a brilliant green with small and vividly white blossoms when bloomed. They only bloom in the light of the full moon! The puzzled man and woman looked at one another with frightful bewilderment and astonishment. Somehow, the explanation had contained…a familiar ring to it; an eerie memory. They then heard a growl. It was an intensely loud growl and not too far away. It, the growl, was followed by a ferociously sinister howl-like that of a wolf.
Shaken with fright and ice-cold fear, they turned to see Brother Jerome standing behind them, clutching his walking-staff very tightly. He stared at them intently and began to speak – almost trance-like…

 

“Even a man, who is pure of heart and says his prayers by night; may become a wolf when the ‘Wolf-Bane’ blooms and the Autumn Moon is bright!”

 

“You cannot leave here tonight, even though we do not want you.”

Eddie questioned his statement and the meaning of why they couldn’t leave. The brother took him aside so that Isabelle could not hear his words. “Eduardo, you and your companion cannot leave because she bears the mark of death… ‘The Five Pointed Pentagram’ lies upon the right palm of her hand!”

“Bullshit Mr. Holy Man!” Isabelle could clearly see that whatever the Holy Man said to Eddie, surely shook him up – and she knew the conversation was about her as well. “She hasn’t got a mark on her! She only felt a little sick and feverish because we were caught out in the elements tonight. What damned mark of death? Man, you all must be crazy or high on something in here – you’re all full of shit! We’ve got enough for our research and story. Come on ‘Izzy,’ we’re getting the hell out of this looney bin!”
Eduardo reached for the tearfully and frightened woman. They started for the door.

“STOP!” The monk shouted. Stop Mr. Hushmanzata – should you and she leave here tonight you will surely meet your deaths!”

The horror filled pair kept moving toward the door. “Mr. Hushmanzata, please STOP! Look at the right palm of her hand!”

They stopped moving and stepped back away from the door. Eduardo turned Isabelle’s hands over, palms up. Shock, spine tingling horror, and blood curdling terror would not be strong enough words to describe their current demeanor or disposition. The shadowy image of the five-pointed pentagram – the five pointed star that disappeared and re-appeared on the entire palm of her hand gave them blue veined cold fright. It brought them to a high level of indescribable fear and graveyard-cold terror that no one has ever been able to present to a living soul. They backed away from the door, fumbling for the chairs they recently occupied as Brother Jerome attempted to provide some form of comfort.

Brother Jerome attempted to calm the ‘un-invited guests’ with another lai of warning and defensive preparation.

“Allow me my children, to enlighten you once again before tomorrow’s departure.” They all three jumped when a thunderous boom hit the chamber door. Brother Jerome rushed to the door and reinforced the existing bolts with a thick crossbar and a large high-backed chair as well. He tightly gripped his Holy-Walking Staff and raised it above his head while citing a warning to the incensed intruder.

 

“BEGONE O DEMON OF THE NIGHT…RETURN TO YOUR DARK DWELLING OF THE MOOR…THERE IS NOTHING HERE FOR THEE OTHER THAN THY DOOM!”

 

The door suffered another thunderous boom along with the rattle and shaking of ceiling and wall plagues and fixtures – the thing let loose a deep rumbling growl and a fiery roar in response to the brother’s challenge and defiance. But, begone, it did – the door bumped and banged no more and the air was silent save the howling of the wind.

 

 

Brother Jerome gathered himself and assisted us in picking up the fallen chairs and items about the chamber. He continued speaking…
Bis Claveret was a nobleman who was married to a lovely lady; he was once in the habit of disappearing for three days of every week. This habit deeply distressed his wife. She wanted to know what it is he does but he refused to tell her. However, she insists, he give in and reveals to her that he is a ‘Werewolf!’ He further stated that is the reason for spent time away from home. He needed to hunt while in the form of a wolf. In order for him to return to his human shape, he needed his clothes. The lady convinced him to tell her of the secret hiding place for his clothes. She planned to get rid of him and instructed her lover to assist her in the deed. The woman sent her lover to steal the husband’s clothes so that he would remain in the woods and forest Lands as a Wolf.

“There is much more to which enlightenment is required… The conception of witches, in its full blown capacity, going to a Sabbat led to the assumption of parallel gathering of wolves, as told by Boquet in 1603. The devil had an alternative trick, even more farfetched… In England, we often see men changed into wolves at the changes of the moon,” as recorded by ‘Gervais of Tilbury.”

Lycanthropy was not simply folklore or legend. It was, just as much as witchcraft, a sin against GOD. The crime was even more ruthlessly punished by the laws governed by the “Great Inquisition,” as recorded in the volumes, “Hallow” and “Hallow II.”

“Alas, we do share a dilemma, for we are hated by all the Demons of Hell and Satan himself! He has not forgotten his dungeon prison of “Truth and Justice;” locked in by the staff blessed with the “Power of the Most High!

Have you traveled through any woodlands or dense thicket while coming to this place?”

Eddie answered in a shaken voice, “Why yes, we got lost a couple of times and stumbled through the moor as well as the woods.”

“Do you feel something weighty upon your shoulders, your left shoulder in particular?” Jerome asked.

“Yes Brother, now that you’ve mentioned it, it does feel like something is on my back – my shoulder. The more I think about it, the heavier it becomes…Ouch! Something is digging into my flesh… Damn; there’s blood on my shirt, I’m bleeding!”

“You have been targeted and claimed My Son – By An Elemental!”

Isabelle and Eduardo hurried along… After starting the car, the pair drove off. The howling of the wolf sounded again. Isabelle was deathly frightened. Eduardo sat in the silence and harbored a grizzly grin.

“Yes, let us hurry and get back to town, I’m very hungry.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth…!”

 

…Til Next Time.

 

 

“Howl Of An Angel” Pt.1 and Pt.2
Hallow II: A Portentous Epoch of Sagacious Redolence and Epiphany
(“A Significant Era of Perceptive Aroma and Vision”)
“Amazon”
http://www.amazon.com/Gregory-V.-Boulware/e/B00OI16PDI/ref=ntt_dp_e…;

“My name is ‘Eduardo Tirilius Williams Hushmanzata”
http://howlofanangel.blogspot.com/
http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/howl-of-an-angel

~”By The Light Of The Silvery Moon”~
http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/by-the-light-of-the-silvery-moon 

~BoulwareEnterprises~

http://www.BoulwareEnterprises.com

https://about.me/gregory_boulware

 

*/

 

#Howling #Wolfbane #Satanic #Werewolfery #SilverMoon #Moonlight #TheLeagueOfLiars #Horror #BoulwareBooks #SCSEP #MCOA #NCOA #CCPedu #BereanInstitute #IndependentBlackMedia #UncleBobbiesCoffeandBooks #GTown #Witchcraft #Demonology #Boulware #Dracula #Vampire #Changling #Anthology #Hallow #HallowII #Fairmount #PhilaBear #DelaBear #Bear #TheOneThingIKnow #TheHowlingMan #TruthandJustice #SpiritOfTheSoul #MadeForMinds #EzineAuthors #The3rdEye #TheSeed #Germantown #Philadelphia #HBCU #HealStorian #The25thDynasty #NelsonMandela #Polymath #Erudite #SojournerTruth #Sojourner

 

“Beware The Beast – 666!”

/*

 

~”The Plight of Good Vs. Evil”~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2020/06/07/1258/ 


“Beware The Beast, for His Number Is – 666!”

“When the Jews return to Zion and a comet fills the sky, and the Holy Roman Empire rises; then you and I must die. From the eternal sea he rises, creating armies on either shore, turning man against his brother, ’til man exists no more.”
―The Biblical poem by Father Brennan about the Antichrist’s birth and rise to power.

On many occasions, when Good has triumphed over Evil, it has always been a joyous and wonderful event…however, often-times, good does not always triumph over evil – evil sometimes find it is the victorious one…

We have all witnessed, seen, heard and experienced the horror of the attacks on protesters; either up close or in person, via electronic feed(s); upon the American Populace by its so-called leaders; who control the ‘Armed Forces’ of these United States of America!

The evil and vile attacks upon United States Citizens as they invoke their American Citizen rights, as written by the “United States Constitution.” They have been under siege ever since the first “Black Person” was murdered upon arrival to these shores, the adopted moniker – “America” (whether they know it or not). However, this type of evil has existed since the beginning of mankind, to and by every so-called racial group of human being(s) upon this planet.

Have you ever wondered why?

Have you seen and/or witnessed these horrible events? …You’ve seen it but don’t believe it, right? Someone made it all up…just like the “COVID-19 FRAUD…right? You’ve seen the authorities assault young females with and without babies in their arms…the assault upon weak and feeble senior citizens…shoving them to the concrete pavement, yes? How about the assaulting of helpless young college women and men sitting in their cars, trapped in traffic…pulled from their vehicles…their vehicles and property destroyed? Yeah, they had to do what they had to do in order to protect the leader, right? Law and order must prevail…right? Nothing wrong was done (by cops or the military)…right?

Who are you believing…them or your lying eyes?

Did you stop and think why the so-called leader of the “Free-Nation” would hold a Holy Bible, (momentarily upside-down); while standing in front of a Christian Church? Why would he do that? Especially while angry and hungry pandemic-weary, unemployed, suffering, innocent, unarmed, and non-threatening people were being attacked – on live personal and professional TV cameras – by police, the armed forces, and other security storm-troopers; utilizing “Gestapo-Like Tactics” upon its citizens? The mocking of the church is equated with holding “The Holy Bible” upside down as is the upside-down crucifix with or without the image bearing the “Christ.” These practices are doctrines of the worshipers of Satan“devil-worshipers!”

Well I’d like to remind you all of a few warning’s from “back-in-the-day!”Way Back In The Day!

~ “You Have Been Warned!” ~

It is predicted in the Book of Revelation that during the Apocalypse, the Antichrist will grant temporary power to the seven kings of ten nations. The kings will come to hate the Whore of Babylon and will make her desolate and naked; burning her with fire and eating her flesh. According to Dr. Charles Warren, the Whore of Babylon represents Rome. Chapter 13 of Revelation also predicts correctly that the Antichrist will cause much death and destruction during his reign over Earth, and that he bears the Number of the Beast, 666, as a birthmark.

The events that signaled the birth of the Antichrist, Damien Thorn (The movie: “The Omen”), as well as the fact that Damien would rise to power ‘from the eternal sea,’ were foretold by Father Brennan in a Biblical poem. The former foretold events included the Jews returning to Israel, a comet appearing in the sky, and the rise of a holy Roman empire. The latter is speculated by Robert Thorn to be the Treaty of Rome (the formation of the common market), and the eternal sea represents the world of “Politics;” the sea that constantly rages with turmoil and “Revolution.”

“And they worshiped the Dragon which gave power unto the Beast: and they worshiped the Beast, saying, “Who is like unto the Beast? Who is able to make war with him?” And I saw the Beast and the kings of the earth with their armies gathered to make war against him who was sitting on the horse and against his army. And through his policy also he shall cause craft to prosper in his hand; and he shall magnify himself in his heart, and by peace shall destroy many: he shall also stand up against the Prince of princes. And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads. And that no man might buy or sell save he that had the mark, or the name of the Beast, or the number of his name. Here is wisdom. Let he who hath understanding count the Number of the Beast; for it is the number of a man; and his number is 666.”
―The verses in the Book of Revelation (Revelation 13:4, Revelation 19:19, Daniel 8:25, and Revelation 13:16-18) that Damien reads when discovering who he is.

“For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.”

―The Biblical verse (2 Corinthians 11:13)

“And then shall the wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the brightness of his coming.”
―The Biblical verse (2 Thessalonians 2:8) about the end of the Antichrist, quoted by Carl Bugenhagen before his death.

“The apostles of Satan will bear the number 666!”

But, Fear Thee Not, My People! This too shall pass…

The day shall come in the not to far-away future, that this evil shall end…by years end! Our Vote! One Vote! We Shall Vote! We Shall Vote As If Our Lives Depend Upon It – Because It Truly Does…and We Shall Vote This Evil Out!

We Shall Vote It Out Where Violence And Destruction Shall Not Be Wielded! We Shall Use The Word Of God, The Pen, Our Voices, and The Ballot!

The toxic sprays, foams, gases, vicious clubbings, bullets (rubber & otherwise), tasers, leather boots, trucks, tanks, and horse attacks upon our Seniors, Youth, Women, or Babies and all of the horrid divisive verbal assaults will all become a thing of the past. It shall be written down and remembered; into the bowels…the annals of notorious history…American and World History!

“Thus he said: As for the fourth Beast, there shall be a fourth kingdom on earth, which shall be different from all the kingdoms, and it shall devour the whole earth.”

…Is it possible that this passage describes the Man, Woman, and Child-Killing…(Planet Killer), COVID-19″ and/or other non-curable viral infections (and diseases of the Earth)?

“And it shall come to pass that in the End Days the Beast shall reign one hundred score and thirty days and nights. And the faithful shall cry unto the Lord: “Wherefore art thou in the day of evil?” And the Lord shall hear their prayers. And out of the Angel Isle he shall bring forth the Deliverer; the Holy Lamb of God who shall do battle with the Beast. And shall destroy him.”

―The Bible-like prophecy (not contained in the Bible) about the Antichrist’s downfall, quoted by Damien.

“Let no man be deceived. For that day shall not come, until the man of sins is revealed, the son of perdition.”

―The Biblical verse (a paraphrase of 2 Thessalonians 2:3) about the Antichrist quoted by Brother Matteus.

“Behold, the Lion of Judah! The Messiah, who came first as a child, but returns not as a child, but now as King of Kings, to rule in power and glory forever! ‘And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.'”
―The triumphant epitaph and concluding Bible verse (Revelation 21:4)
https://omen.fandom.com/wiki/Holy_Bible

The Lion of Judah is a prominent symbol in the “Rastafari” movement. It represents ‘Emperor Haile Selassie’ I as well as being a symbol of strength, kingship, pride and African Sovereignty. ‘Rastafari’ consider the mention of “The Lion of Judah” in Genesis 49:9 and Revelation 5:5 of The Bible to refer to Emperor Haile Selassie I. Rastafari hail Haile Selassie I with the titles “KING of Kings, LORD of lords, Conquering Lion of Judah, Elect of God, the Light of the World.”

The Battle Between “Good Vs. Evil” Shall Be Won – Good Shall Overcome and Defeat Evil!

“Out of the Darkness…God Shall Deliver Unto Us The Goodness of “His” Salvation!”

“Keep The Faith, Keep Hope Alive, for it shall be delivered!”

~ “We Shall Overcome!” ~

 

In Peace, Faith, Truth, & Love,

“G”

 

 

References/Acknowledgement(s):

Police union will not ID officer in Australian TV crew attack

Police union will not ID officer in Australian TV crew attack

~ “The Holy Bible Upside Down” ~
http://blackinamerica.com/content/356174/the-holy-bible-upside-down

Kushner 666

President Kushner owns 666 Building where the Mark of the Beast Chip is Developed

Kneeling man in Bay Area killed by police who say they mistook hammer for gun
https://www.aol.com/article/news/2020/06/04/kneeling-man-in-bay-area-killed-by-police-who-say-they-mistook-hammer-for-gun/24511767/

Washington, DC paints a giant ‘Black Lives Matter’ message on the road to the White House
https://www.cnn.com/2020/06/05/us/black-lives-matter-dc-street-white-house-trnd/index.html

Sharpton mocks Trump’s Bible photo op at George Floyd memorial
https://www.aol.com/article/news/2020/06/04/sharpton-mocks-trumps-bible-photo-op-at-george-floyd-memorial/24512010/

Gun-toting members of the Boogaloo movement are showing up at protests
https://www.cnn.com/2020/06/03/us/boogaloo-extremist-protests-invs/index.html

Tepid response to Breonna Taylor’s killing has many wondering which black lives matter?
aol.com/article/news/2020/06/04/tepid-response-to-breonna-taylors-killing-has-many-wondering-which-black-lives-matter/24512156/

‘Horrified’: Around the world, American allies are stunned
https://www.aol.com/article/news/2020/06/03/horrified-around-the-world-american-allies-are-stunned/24510049/

Texas Republicans call on county GOP chair to resign for saying Floyd’s death was staged
https://thehill.com/homenews/state-watch/501193-texas-republicans-call-on-county-gop-chair-to-resign-for-saying-floyds

Facebook refuses to police information on its own vast network, despite being the largest media company in the world.
Recently, CEO Mark Zuckerberg defended Facebook’s decision to allow a Tump post that Twitter hid with a disclaimer for “glorifying violence.” Employees have protested in unprecedented numbers, and some have quit.
https://www.businessinsider.com/opinion-quit-facebook-now-black-lives-matter-trump-2020-6

Prosecutors: 3 men plotted to terrorize Vegas protests
https://www.aol.com/article/news/2020/06/03/prosecutors-3-men-plotted-to-terrorize-vegas-protests/24510626/

Epidemic of wipes and masks plague sewers, storm drains
https://www.aol.com/article/news/2020/06/04/epidemic-of-wipes-and-masks-plague-sewers-storm-drains/24511524/

Trump vows to help oust GOP senator after criticism: ‘Get any candidate ready’
https://www.aol.com/article/news/2020/06/05/trump-vows-to-help-oust-gop-senator-after-criticism-get-any-candidate-ready/24512679/

~ He Screwed Up Again Big Time ~
http://hbcu.com/content/352371/he-screwed-up-again-big-time

‘BINGO…THE SMOKING GUN…DONALD TRUMP(PEDIPHILE)RAPIST EXPOSED!’
https://plus.google.com/101361411397323635452/posts/g7AbR56XKXF
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=%27BINGO…THE+SMOKING+GUN…DONALD+TRUMP(PEDIPHILE)RAPIST+EXPOSED!%27

Another Trump Pedophile Lawsuit Emerges – Veterans Today …
http://www.veteranstoday.com/2016/07/11/another-trump…
Katie Johnson Claims in the Trump Pedophile Lawsuit. “Defendant Trump initiated s*xual contact with Plaintiff at four different parties. On the fourth and final s*xual encounter with Defendant Trump, Defendant Trump tied Plaintiff to a bed, exposed himself to Plaintiff, and then proceeded to forcibly rape Plaintiff.

~BoulwareEnterprises~
http://www.BoulwareEnterprises.com
https://about.me/gregory_boulware

“WordPress”
https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/

“Ezine Articles”
http://ezinearticles.com/?expert_bio=Gregory_V._Boulware

~ Amazon ~

~ “Academia” ~
https://independent.academia.edu/GregoryVBoulware

And

“Twitter”

*/

14 high-profile police-related deaths of U.S. blacks
https://www.cbc.ca/news/world/list-police-related-deaths-usa-1.4438618

Police Killing Timeline:
https://search.yahoo.com/search;_ylt=AwrE19S_RNxehKUADnJXNyoA;_ylc=X1MDMjc2NjY3OQRfcgMyBGZyA2NybWFzBGZyMgNzYS1ncC1zZWFyY2gEZ3ByaWQDZTI0SkZTY2RUVjJvekx5VXFuY3U0QQRuX3JzbHQDMARuX3N1Z2cDNARvcmlnaW4Dc2VhcmNoLnlhaG9vLmNvbQRwb3MDMQRwcXN0cgNhbGwgcG9saWNlIGtpbGxpbmdzIG9mIEJsYWNrBHBxc3RybAMyOARxc3RybAMzNQRxdWVyeQNhbGwlMjBwb2xpY2UlMjBraWxsaW5ncyUyMG9mJTIwYmxhY2slMjBwZW9wbGUEdF9zdG1wAzE1OTE0OTM4NTEEdXNlX2Nhc2UD?p=all+police+killings+of+black+people&fr2=sa-gp-search&fr=crmas

#AmadouDiallo #GeorgeFloyd #EricGarner #MichaelBrown #AkaiGurley #TamirRice #EricHarris #WalterScott #WilliamChapmanII #JeremyMcDole #JamarClark #AltonSterling #ICan’tBreathe #TerenceCrutcher #PhilandoCastile #SamDubose #FreddieGray #SayHerName #SayHisName #TheRevAl #NAACP #GetYourKneeOffMyNeck #Impeached #BlackLivesMatter #BLM #BlackHistory #WHYY #Impeached #Impeachment #PBS #MorningJoe #PoliticsNation #NAN #BlackAuthors #JoyReid #Boulware #BoulwareBooks #HBCU #BlackWritersMuseum #onWURD #12thTribe #BlackInAmerica #SNCC #SCLC #NAACP #COAR #RepJohnLewis #DrKing #MartinLutherKing #PhillyTribune #PhillyTrib #BlackInAmerica #SojournerTruth #Sojourner #BlackHistory #AMJoy #JoeScarborogh #History #HerStory #KnowledgeIsKing #BlackThen #P2P #3rdEye #CongressionalBlackCaucus #PaulRobeson #JamesBaldwin #BlackToLive #KDP #HealStorian #TheIndigenousPeoples #EzineAuthors #FightThePowerThatBe #LDF #IndependentBlackMedia #NavajoNationCouncil #NavajoCodeTalkers #NativeTeams #AIVMI #LifeStyle #TheDailyWeb #TheHerald #TheWashingtonPost #MindTV #Metro #Revolution #Democracy #TheAdministration #ThePowerStructure #Deeds #Heritage #Segregation #Demonstration #TheMillionManMarch #FreedomRiders #FreePress #FreedomRides #Priviledged #Resist #Revolt #HumanBeing #Sanction #Boycott #Underground #PhillyNews #TheFinalCall #AmericanIndianVeteransMemorial #AIVMI #BookSpots #TweetYourBooks #WriteIntoPrint #AuthorsDen #MediumDailyDigest #TheHuffingtonPost #DW #AP #FaceBook #Blogger #Tumblr #LinkedIn #WordPress #Israel #Egypt #Tehran #USA #London #British #England #France #Germany #Russia #Eukrainian #EuropeanNews #Putin #BlackPlanet #TheAmazonian #Amazon #Twitter #Academia #Murder #OutNumbered #Revelations #666 #TheOmen #Yahweh #Yahushua #Moshe #TheMostHigh #TheHolyBible #TheHolyQuran #TheTorah #Religion #Church #TheHouseOfGod #GOD #Hebrew #The3rdEye #Ashkenazi #Judah #The12thTribe #Igbo #Nubian #Egypt #Kushite #Cushite

 

 

 

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~ “The Academic Amazonian!”~

TWWOB – Origins of The Boulware Papers 

 “The Academic Amazonian!”

~ “The Spirituality & Spiritualization of Spiritualism” ~

420 Plus World Wide Mentions, Seven Published Paperbacks, and a Multitude of Articles, Essays, & Educational Postings!

https://independent.academia.edu/GregoryVBoulware  

Author Accomplishments:

http://ezinearticles.com/expert/Gregory_V._Boulware/121107/achievements   

“Academia discovered the name “G Boulware” mentioned in a paper uploaded by someone in Delhi, India; among many others…”

https://independent.academia.edu/GregoryVBoulware 

TWWOB – Book One: The First of Six Digitally Produced Books!

‘Origins of The Boulware Papers’

~ “The Spirituality & Spiritualization of Spiritualism” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_…

“HBCU”
http://hbcu.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608

“TWWOB”
The Written Works of Boulware (6 Free Digital Online Books) Plus The Amazon Collection (Seven PaperBacks)!
https://www.blogger.com/profile/10910946197037982583

Book #1

TWWOB – Book One, Origins of

“The Boulware Papers”

~”The Spirituality & Spiritualization of Spiritualism”~

Spirituality:
“The state or quality of being dedicated to God, religion, or spiritual things or values, esp as contrasted with material or temporal ones; the condition or quality of being spiritual; a distinctive approach to religion or prayer: the spirituality of the desert Fathers; (often plural) Church property or revenue or a Church benefice.”
http://hbcu.com/content/354606/twwob-origins-the-boulware-papers-bo…

Book#2

TWWOB – Book Two: ‘Origins of The Boulware Papers’

~”The Digitized Digital World From An Educational  Point of View “~ 

Digital:
“Displaying a readout in numerical digits rather than by a pointer or hands on a dial:
A digital speedometer; a digital watch; of, relating to, or using numerical calculations; of, relating to, or using data in the form of numerical digits:
a digital image; digital devices; involving or using numerical digits expressed in a scale of notation, usually in the binary system, to represent discretely all variables occurring in a problem; available in electronic form; readable and manipulable by computer…”
Technological[ tek-nuh-loj-i-kuh l
adjective
Of or relating to technology; relating to science and industry. Economics. caused by technical advances in production methods.”
http://hbcu.com/content/354654/twwob-book-two-origins-of-the-boulwa…

Book#3

TWWOB – Book Three: ‘Origins of The Boulware Papers’

~”Philosophical Inputs of Philosophies & Ideas in Education”~

Philosophical:
Philosophical or phil·o·soph·ic[ fil-uh-sof-i-kuh l or fil-uh-sof-ik ]
adjective
“Of or relating to philosophy:
philosophical studies. Versed in or occupied with philosophy. Proper to or befitting a philosopher. Rationally or sensibly calm, patient, or composed. Rare. Of or relating to natural philosophy or physical science.”

Philosophies:
Philosophy[ fi-los-uh-fee
noun, plural phi·los·o·phies.
“The rational investigation of the truths and principles of being, knowledge, or conduct. Any of the three branches, namely natural philosophy, moral philosophy, and metaphysical philosophy, that are accepted as composing this study. A particular system of thought based on such study or investigation:
The philosophy of Spinoza. The critical study of the basic principles and concepts of a particular branch of knowledge, especially with a view to improving or reconstituting them:
The philosophy of science. A system of principles for guidance in practical affairs. An attitude of rationality, patience, composure, and calm in the presence of troubles or annoyances.”

Education:
Education[ ej-oo-key-shuhn ]
noun
“The act or process of imparting or acquiring general knowledge, developing the powers of reasoning and judgment, and generally of preparing oneself or others intellectually for mature life. The act or process of imparting or acquiring particular knowledge or skills, as for a profession.
A degree, level, or kind of schooling:
A university education. The result produced by instruction, training, or study:
To show one’s education. The science or art of teaching; pedagogics.”
http://hbcu.com/content/354722/twwob-book-three-origins-of-the-boul…

Book#4

TWWOB-Book Four ‘Origins of The Boulware Papers’

~”The Fiction & The Fantasy”~

Fantasy:
Fantasy[ fan-tuh-see, -zee ]
noun, plural fan·ta·sies.
“Imagination, especially when extravagant and unrestrained. The forming of mental images, especially wondrous or strange fancies; imaginative conceptualizing.
A mental image, especially when unreal or fantastic; vision: a nightmare fantasy; imagery that is more or less coherent, as in dreams and daydreams, yet unrestricted by reality, phantasia.”

Fiction:
Fiction[ fik-shuhn ]
noun
“The class of literature comprising works of imaginative narration, especially in prose form.
works of this class, as novels or short stories:
detective fiction. Something feigned, invented, or imagined; a made-up story:
We’ve all heard the fiction of her being in delicate health. The act of feigning, inventing, or imagining. An imaginary thing or event, postulated for the purposes of argument or explanation. Law. An allegation that a fact exists that is known not to exist, made by authority of law to bring a case within the operation of a rule of law.”
http://hbcu.com/content/354798/twwob-book-4-origins-of-the-boulware…

Book#5

~ TWWOB-Book Five: ‘Origins of The Boulware Papers’

~”Historically Speaking, A Word or Two With Words”~

History:
History[ his-tuh-ree, his-tree ]
noun, plural his·to·ries.
“The branch of knowledge dealing with past events. A continuous, systematic narrative of past events as relating to a particular people, country, period, person, etc., usually written as a chronological account; chronicle:
A history of France; a medical history of the patient. The aggregate of past events. The record of past events and times, especially in connection with the human race.
A past notable for its important, unusual, or interesting events:
A ship with a history. Acts, ideas, or events that will or can shape the course of the future; immediate but significant happenings:
Firsthand observers of our space program see history in the making. A systematic account of any set of natural phenomena without particular reference to time:
A history of the American eagle. A drama representing historical events:
Shakespeare’s comedies, histories, and tragedies.”

Words:
word[ wurd ]
noun
“A unit of language, consisting of one or more spoken sounds or their written representation, that functions as a principal carrier of meaning. Words are composed of one or more morphemes and are either the smallest units susceptible of independent use or consist of two or three such units combined under certain linking conditions, as with the loss of primary accent that distinguishes black-bird from black- bird. Words are usually separated by spaces in writing, and are distinguished phonologically, as by accent, in many languages. (used in combination with the first letter of an offensive or unmentionable word, the first letter being lowercase or uppercase, with or without a following hyphen):
My mom married at 20, and she mentions the m-word every time I meet someone she thinks is eligible.
See also f-word, n-word.
words, speech or talk:
To express one’s emotion in words; Words mean little when action is called for. The text or lyrics of a song as distinguished from the music. Contentious or angry speech; A quarrel:
We had words and she walked out on me. A short talk or conversation:
Marston, I’d like a word with you. An expression or utterance:
A word of warning. Warrant, assurance, or promise:
I give you my word I’ll be there. News; tidings; information:
We received word of his death.
A verbal signal, as a password, watchword, or countersign. An authoritative utterance, or command:
His word was law. Also called machine word. Computers. a string of bits, characters, or bytes treated as a single entity by a computer, particularly for numeric purposes.
(initial capital letter) Also called the Word, the Word of God. The Scriptures; the Bible. The Logos. The message of the gospel of Christ. A proverb or motto.
verb (used with object) To express in words; select words to express; phrase:
To word a contract with great care.”
http://hbcu.com/content/354841/twwob-book-five-origins-of-the-boulw…

Book #6

TWWOB – Book Six: ‘Origins of The Boulware Papers’

~ Politics, Business, Legal, & Marketing; “AI”~

Politics:
Politics[ pol-i-tiks ]
noun (used with a singular or plural verb)
The science or art of political government. The practice or profession of conducting political affairs.
Political affairs:
“The advocated reforms have become embroiled in politics. Political methods or maneuvers:
We could not approve of his politics in winning passage of the bill.
Political principles or opinions:
We avoided discussion of religion and politics. His politics are his own affair. Use of intrigue or strategy in obtaining any position of power or control, as in business, university, etc. (Initial capital letter, italics) a treatise (4th century b.c.) by Aristotle, dealing with the structure, organization, and administration of the state, especially the city-state as known in ancient Greece.”

Business:
Business[ biz-nis ]
noun
“An occupation, profession, or trade:
His business is poultry farming. The purchase and sale of goods in an attempt to make a profit. A person, partnership, or corporation engaged in commerce, Manufacturing, or a service; profit-seeking enterprise or concern.Volume of trade; patronage:
Most of the store’s business comes from local families.
adjective:
Of, Noting, or Pertaining to business, its organization, or its procedures. Containing, suitable for, or welcoming business or commerce:
New York is a good business town…”

Law/Legal:
Law – law1[ law ]
noun
“The principles and regulations established in a community by some authority and applicable to its people, whether in the form of legislation or of custom and policies recognized and enforced by judicial decision. Any written or positive rule or collection of rules prescribed under the authority of the state or nation, as by the people in its constitution.Compare bylaw, statute law. The controlling influence of such rules; the condition of society brought about by their observance:
Maintaining law and order. A system or collection of such rules. The department of knowledge concerned with these rules; jurisprudence:
To study law. The body of such rules concerned with a particular subject or derived from a particular source:
Commercial law. An act of the supreme legislative body of a state or nation, as distinguished from the constitution. The principles applied in the courts of common law, as distinguished from equity. The profession that deals with law and legal procedure:
To practice law. Legal action; litigation:
To go to law. A person, group, or agency acting officially to enforce the law:
The law arrived at the scene soon after the alarm went off. Any rule or injunction that must be obeyed:
Having a nourishing breakfast was an absolute law in our household. A rule or principle of proper conduct sanctioned by conscience, concepts of natural justice, or the will of a deity:
A moral law. A rule or manner of behavior that is instinctive or spontaneous:
the law of self-preservation.
(In philosophy, science, etc.) A statement of a relation or sequence of phenomena invariable under the same conditions.
a mathematical rule.
a principle based on the predictable consequences of an act, condition, etc.:
The law of supply and demand. A rule, principle, or convention regarded as governing the structure or the relationship of an element in the structure of something, as of a language or work of art:
The laws of play writing; the laws of grammar. A commandment or a revelation from God. (Sometimes initial capital letter) a divinely appointed order or system. The Law. Law of Moses. The preceptive/perceptive part of the Bible, especially of the New Testament, in contradistinction to its promises:
The law of Christ.
British Sports. an allowance of time or distance given a quarry or competitor in a race, as the head start given a fox before the hounds are set after it.
verb (used with object)
Chiefly Dialect. to sue or prosecute.”

Legal:
adjective
Permitted by law; lawful:
“Such acts are not legal. Of or relating to law; connected with the law or its administration:
The legal profession. Appointed, established, or authorized by law; deriving authority from law.”
noun
“A person who acts in a legal manner or with legal authority. An alien who has entered a country legally. A person whose status is protected by law. A fish or game animal, within specified size or weight limitations, that the law allows to be caught and kept during an appropriate season. A foreigner who conducts espionage against a host country while working there in a legitimate capacity, often in the diplomatic service. Legals, authorized investments that may be made by fiduciaries, as savings banks or trustees.”

Marketing:
Marketing[ mahr-ki-ting]
noun
“The act of buying or selling in a market. The total of activities involved in the transfer of goods from the producer or seller to the consumer or buyer, including advertising, shipping, storing, and selling.
an open place or a covered building where buyers and sellers convene for the sale of goods; a marketplace:
A farmers’ market.
A store for the sale of food:
A meat market.
A meeting of people for selling and buying. The assemblage of people at such a meeting. Trade or traffic, especially as regards a particular commodity:
The market in cotton. A body of persons carrying on extensive transactions in a specified commodity:
The cotton market. The field of trade or business:
The best shoes in the market. Demand for a commodity:
An unprecedented market for leather. A body of existing or potential buyers for specific goods or services:
The health-food market. A region in which goods and services are bought, sold, or used:
The foreign market; the New England market. Current price or value:
A rising market for shoes. Stock market.
Verb (used without object) To buy or sell in a market; deal. To buy food and provisions for the home. verb (used with object) To carry or send to market for disposal:
To market produce every week. To dispose of in a market; sell.”

Artificial Intelligence (AI):
noun
“The capacity of a computer to perform operations analogous to learning and decision making in humans, as by an expert system, a program for CAD or CAM, or a program for the perception and recognition of shapes in computer vision systems. Abbreviation: AI, A.I.The study of the modelling of human mental functions by computer programs Abbreviation: AI… The ability of a computer or other machine to perform actions thought to require intelligence. Among these actions are logical deduction and inference, creativity, the ability to make decisions based on past experience or insufficient or conflicting information, and the ability to understand spoken language.
“The goal of research on artificial intelligence is to understand the nature of thought and intelligent behavior and to design intelligent systems. A computer is not really intelligent; it just follows directions very quickly. At the same time, it is the speed and memory of modern computers that allows researchers to manage the huge quantities of data necessary to model human thought and behavior. An intelligent machine would be more flexible than a computer and would engage in the kind of “thinking” that people actually do. An example is vision. In theory, a network of sensors combined with systems for interpreting the data could produce the kind of pattern recognition that we take for granted as seeing and understanding what we see. In fact, developing software that can recognize subtle differences in objects (such as those we use to recognize human faces) is very difficult. The recognition of differences that we can perceive without deliberate effort would require massive amounts of data and elaborate guidelines to be recognized by an artificial intelligence system. According to the famous Turing Test, proposed in 1950 by British mathematician and logician Alan Turing, a machine would be considered intelligent if it could convince human observers that another human, rather than a machine, was answering their questions in conversation.””
http://hbcu.com/content/354845/twwob-book-six-origins-of-the-boulwa…

Til Next Time!
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Wrappings_5.6.18

~”WRAPPINGS”~


By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/wrappings

Un-Holy Desecration! …”He Who Robs The Graves Of Egypt DIES!”

“Herein Are Set Down, The Magic Words By Which “Isis” Raised “Osiris” From the Dead…”

“Oh Amen-Ra… Oh! God of Gods…Death is But The Doorway to New Life! We live Today – We Shall Live Again In Many Forms Shall We Return”
~ Imhotep ~

A destitute archeology team in Suburban Philadelphia, PA, has dreamed up a way to make enough money to fund any and all future expeditions. The idea would eliminate the need to seek or petition colleges or universities and other factions as well, for funding digs and excavations. They could become independent business moguls with this new idea… The scheme of things would be to start an educational touring and teaching foundation – a school and membership club. The groups sessions would include world-wide travel to ancient lands and burial sites across the globe. “All we have to do is put together a pricing package and schedule a few classes with assignment projects to keep the members…students interested and excited about the traveling aspect…I do believe they’ll go for it. Think about it – the church’s and religious groups do it all the time…except we’ll be a legitimate teaching entity – a bonafide school of higher learning…none credit of course.”

The first class began four months later… The first study course assignment is “Ancient Egyptian Burial Sites and The Mummies Therein!”

Beginning with a visit to the “Temple of Karnak” and “The Tomb of Amen” – “Ipet Isut,” and “The Tomb of “Meraruka” in Sakkara, Kemet.
One of the female students suddenly felt cold…like someone with icy-fingers was stroking her spine. She shivered with cold and a horrible dread.
“I’ve never before felt such and aura of menace…It’s as if death was stalking us with this new assignment. I so terribly feel drawn to the dig…it’s as if I am compelled to go on this expedition, this class trip, and search for something…someone!”

>

Egypt is an ancient city. The Nile Valley is one of the birthplaces of world civilization. Down through the ages, this region has remained one of the most romantic places in the world. It harbors wondrous monuments, which border the Nile from below Aswan in the south to Cairo in the north. The great pyramid(s) of Giza was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world and is the only one that has survived. The “Sphinx” has mystified and fascinated people for centuries.
Well-preserved, brilliantly colored wall paintings in ancient tombs picture the life of the Egyptian People some 4,000 years ago. For centuries, people from many lands have visited Egypt to see the marvels. Among the visitors of long ago was the Greek Historian Herodotus, who said, “Egypt is the gift of the Nile!”

Egypt is bordered by Libya on the west and by Sudan on the south. It extends north as far as the Mediterranean Sea and east to the Red Sea and the Guild of Suez. Egypt also includes the Sinai Peninsula. The Peninsula is the site of Egypt’s highest mountain, Gebel Katherina (Mount Catherine), which rises to an altitude of 2,637 meters (8,651 feet). Except for the Nile River and its delta, Egypt is a land of brown arid deserts. To the west of the Nile stretches a part of the vast Libyan Desert. The the east lies the Arabian, or Eastern, Desert.
Outside the Nile Valley and the Nile-irrigated Suez Canal Region, there are few areas where water is available for farming. The Faiyum Oasis, on the edge of the desert, lies southwest of Cairo. In the Libyan Desert are the “Kharga,” “Dakhla,” “Farafra,” and “Siwa Oasis.” The Siwa Oasis is noted for having been visited by ‘Alexander The Great.’

The Sun shines almost every day in Egypt. Rain is scarce throughout the entire land. Alexandria; located in the wettest part of the country, gets only about 200 millimeters (8 inches) of rain each year. The southern parts of the country average 75 millimeters (3 inches) or less.
Summers in Egypt are hot and dry. Temperatures reach about 40’C (105’F). In parts of the Libyan Desert, the temperature may rise to almost 50’C (about 120’F) when the Khamsin – a hot, dry, desert wind – blows.
Winters are warm and pleasant. Egypt (Kemet) is primarily an agricultural country. Intensively cultivated, the Nile Valley is one of the most productive areas in the world. Recently, the leaders of Egypt have been making great efforts in bringing the country into age of industrialization. Most of the people live on less than four percent of the land. Nearly 80,000 wandering ‘Bedouins’ live in the deserts, which make up the other ninety-six percent of Egypt’s/Kemet’s area.

Egyptian “City-Dwellers” live in apartment houses, in private homes in suburbs, or in crowded tenement districts. House furnishings are similar to those in Western lifestyles and cities. These city-dwellers work in the same kinds of occupations that are found in most western cultures. The building of factories near the cities has attracted a large number of unskilled laborers from the farms. Many women work in clerical and administrative jobs and careers. A great many of Egypt’s social-welfare organizations are run by women.
Western apparel are quite common in the cities. But the laborers, especially those who grew up on the farm of the Nile Valley, sometimes wear the ankle-length cotton “Gallabiyea, or Robe,” and skullcap (Kufi) or Turban that have been worn for many centuries by the men and/or farmers of Egypt.

Most Egyptians are “Muslims.” There are five to six million Egyptian Christians (Copts), who are found in rural and urban areas of the land. Throughout Egypt/Kemet all levels of public education, from primary school to college, are free to both girls and boys. Thousands of girls go on to college and then hold positions in all fields, including law, engineering, and medicine.
Primary education is compulsory for children between the ages of six and twelve. Many of those who complete primary school go on to preparatory and secondary or vocational schools. The preparatory school course lasts three years and prepares students for secondary school. There are three basic programs of study in secondary school, which also lasts three years. These are a program in domestic science, a technical studies program, and a program of general studies, with emphasis on academic subjects.
Egypt/Kemet has a number of national universities, which are free. The University of Cairo was founded in 1908 as a private university. The universities at Alexandria, Ain Shants (Cairo), Asyut, Helwan, Mansura, Minya, Tanta, and Zagazig were all founded by the Egyptian Government.
Al-Azhar University, in Cairo, was established in the 10th Century. Many consider it to be the oldest university in the world. It was founded as a center for teaching Arabic Literature, Islamic Law, and Muslim Theology. In 1961 the curriculum was expanded to include technical subjects along with its traditional course of study. There is now a women’s college connected with the Al-Azhar as well.
There is only one foreign university in Egypt/Kemet today – the American University in Cairo… It was founded in 1919 by a group of United States Philanthropists. Many of its students come from outside the borders of Egypt/Kemet.

‘Cairo,’ the capital of Egypt and the largest city in Africa, is/was the cultural center of the Arab world for centuries. It has many museums, including the famed Egyptian Museum with its collection of Egyptian antiquities. In addition to being Egypt’s seat of government, Cairo is a busy commercial, banking, and tourist center. The city also hosts Industrial plants, fringed along its outskirts.

On the Mediterranean Sea is the second largest city in “Africa”…’Alexandria.’ Founded by “Alexander The Great,” is also a very busy port on the Mediterranean. This city was founded, according to history, in 332 B.C. Alexandrain attracted poets and scholars from around the world (as it was known), including “Euclid,’ the great mathematician, and “Ptolemy,” the famous geographer. One of the seven wonders of the ancient world was “The Pharaohs,” or “The Lighthouse of Alexandria.” It was destroyed in the 14th century. “The Library of Alexandria is said to have contained over Four hundred thousand books. Alexandria is regarded as the summer headquarters for the national government. This location is famous for its white beaches, its rose gardens, and its palace museums.

The most famous of the country’s ancient cities is “Luxor.” Currently, it is a tourist city of luxury hotels overlooking the mysterious and beautiful Nile. Luxor also hosts “The Valley of the Kings!” The “Temple of Karnak,” “The Tombs of the Queens and Kings,” The Tombs of the Nobles, “Deir el Bahri (The funeral Temple of Queen Hatshepsut),” “The Colossi of Memmon (two Towering Statues of of AmenhotepIII),” “The Ramesseum” with its statues of “Ramses II,” and “The Temple of Luxor” are all located within ‘Luxor.’

“Aswan” is Egypt’s winter resort. Aswan boasts of being one of the country’s most rapidly growing city. Thanks to the construction of the “Aswan High Dam project” and the rapid growth of “Hydroelectric” and “Industrial Plants,” its a sound and warranted “Pat-On-The-Back.”

The country now known as “The Arab Republic of Egypt” has one of the longest histories in the world. The written history of the country goes back almost five thousand years, to the dawn of civilization. It was the ancient Egyptians who invented our first calendar.
“Members of The People’s Assembly,” Egypt’s legislative body, are elected for five year terms. Half of the members must be either workers or farmers. The first multiparty elections for the assembly since 1952 were held in 1979. The head of state is the president, who is also commander in chief of the armed forces. The president is elected for a six-year term. Constitutional changes approved in 1980 allow the president to serve an indefinite number of terms. The president is assisted by a prime minister and a council of ministers.
The judicial branch of the government is independent of the other two branches. No member of the other two branches may interfere with the courts. All trials are conducted by three judges. There are no juries.
There used to be two court systems; the civil courts, which dealt with police cases; and the religious courts, which heard cases concerning such matters as marriage, divorce, and inheritance issues.
In 1956, the religious courts were abolished. But a constitutional amendment in 1980 made the Islamic Code the Chief Source of Law.

Some of the most impressive structures known, including the Great Pyramids (tombs for the early Egyptian Kings) and the ‘Sphinx’ at “Giza,” were built before 200 B.C. The largest of the pyramids was constructed by “King Khufu, or Cheops,” perhaps about 2600 B.C. Although there is and have been disagreements about early Egyptian dates, it is thought that Egypt came into being sometime around 3200 B.c., when a king named “Menes (also called “Narmer)” united the cities of northern and southern Egypt under one government.

In 640, Muslims (member of the newly formed religion of Islam), according to one record, swept westward from the Arabian Peninsula and conquered Egypt. The Muslims founded the city of Cairo in 969 and made it the capital of Egypt. Muslim “Caliphs” and their ministers ruled Egypt for many succeeding centuries. One of the most famous of the rulers of Egypt during this period of Muslim rule was “Saladin (1138-1193),” who fought the Christian Crusaders at the end of the 12th Century. The “Ottoman Turks” followed these rulers, dominating Egypt from 1517 to 1805, almost 300 years.
However, according to many scholarly sources, “The Hyksos,” an eastern people whom very little is known, invaded Egypt and conquered the land, bringing with them the first horses and chariots ever seen in Egypt. Later, the Egyptians did drive out the usurpers…all this occurred between 1500 and 1675 B.C. In or around 1375 B.C., “Amenhotep IV” (Akhenaten) became king of Egypt. He abolished the worship of the many ancient Egyptian gods and introduced worship of only one god. Akhenaten was one of the world’s first monotheists (believers in only one god). But after Akhenaten’s death the believers in the old gods gained power again, and Akhenaten’s reforms were disregarded.

“Menpehtyre Ramesses I” (or Ramses) was the founding pharaoh of ancient Egypt’s 19th dynasty. The dates for his short reign are not completely known but the time-line of late 1292–1290 BC is as well as 1295–1294 BC. While Ramesses I was the founder of the 19th dynasty, in reality his brief reign marked the transition between the reign of Horemheb who had stabilized Egypt in the late 18th dynasty and the rule of the powerful pharaohs of this dynasty, in particular his son Seti I and grandson Ramesses II, who would bring Egypt up to new heights of imperial power.

One of the best known Egyptian kings was “Ramses II (1292-1225 B.C.),” who is known for his monuments and temples at Karnak’ and for the temple he carved out of the cliffs on the western bank of the ‘Nile River’ at “Abu Simbel.”

Around 1000 B.C., Egyptian power declined. Between this time and 332 B.C., Egypt was ruled in turn by the “Libyans,” “Ethiopians,” “Assyrians,” and “The Persians.” In 332 B.C. the country was conquered by “The Greeks,” under “Alexander The Great.” Upon his death one of his generals became ruler of Egypt, as “Ptolemy I.” The dynasty of the ‘Ptolemies’ ended in 30 B.C., when “Cleopatra (69-30 B.C.),” the last of the line, took her own life. Egypt then became a ‘Roman Province.’ The succession of rulers for the next six-hundred-and-seventy years were appointed by ‘Roman’ and ‘Byzantine’ emperors. Egypt became largely ‘Christian‘ during this period and was the home of the earliest ‘Christian Monasticism.’

During ‘Turkish’ rule, “Napoleon I of France” landed in Egypt. His expedition to Egypt aroused great interest in the country on the part of ‘Europeans.’ One of Napoleon’s officers discovered the “Rosetta Stone,” which furnished the key to ancient Egyptian writing called “Hieroglyphics!”

Recorded text continues to explain Egypt’s history with the entrance of “Mehemet Ali (Mohammed)” in 1805. He was of ‘Albanian’ descent. Mehemet was made “Pasha,” or governor, of Egypt by the ‘Ottoman Turks.’ He seized power for himself and founded the “Last Egyptian Dynasty!”
It was during the reign of this dynasty that the “Suez Canal” was built and cotton became the country’s most important crop. ‘Mehemet Ali’ and his successors often turned for funds to the ‘British’ and ‘French.’ British influence grew when, in 1875, the Egyptian government sold controlling interest in the Suez Canal to Britain. “Britain” declared “Egypt” a British Protectorate at the beginning of “World War I.”
Egyptian Independence was recognized in 1922, when “Fuad I (1868-1936)” became ruler. Egypt fought on the side of the ‘Allies’ in World War II and became a charter member of the “United Nations” with strong British influence. Egypt and other Arab States objected to the formation of the new “Jewish Nation” after the proclamation of “Israel’s Independence” in 1948. Albeit, part of this area was historically the ‘Jewish Homeland,’ Arabs had been living there for centuries. The Arabs felt, therefore, that their homes were being unfairly taken away from them. Undeclared war broke out between Israel and its Arab neighbors, which included Egypt. Armistice agreements were signed in 1949, but sporadic border fighting did not stop.
Discontent was a long lasting endurance with the corruption of “King Farouk (1920-1965)” led to a revolution by the army under “General Muhammad Naguib” in 1952. The country was declared a republic in 1953. In 1954, ‘Naguib’ stepped down in favor of “Colonel Gamal Abdel Nasser,” who served as president until his death in 1970. He was succeeded by “Anwar el-Sadat.”
When Egypt nationalized the ‘Suez Canal’ in 1956, Israel was refused use of the canal. Aide by France and Britain, Israel invaded Egypt and occupied almost the entire “Sinai” peninsula. Anglo-French landings took place in the “Port” side area. The United Nations intervened, and the invading forces withdrew. A United Nations emergency force was stationed on the Egyptian side of the border until 1967. in 1967 and 1973, Israel and Egypt fought two more wars in the ‘Sinai’.
A United Nations peace-keeping team was again stationed in the area. The ‘Suez Canal’ was reopened to traffic in 1975.
The subject of “Arab Unity” has been discussed from time to time in the “Arab World.” Syria and Egypt, in 1958, joined to form the “United Arab Republic.” But Syria withdrew from the union in 1961, and Egypt changed its name to “The Arab Republic of Egypt, Syria, and Libya.” The three Arab Republics approved the plan(s) to form a federation – but the proposed unification never came to fruition. Later, Egypt and Sudan signed a joint defense pact and have co-operated in a number of joint ventures on the economic development frontier(s). They held their first joint parliamentary sessions in 1977, but they have discussed no plans to create a single nation between the two.

The Egyptian President, Anwar Sadat made a historic visit to Jerusalem in 1977. Since its founding in 1978, Sadat became the first “Arab Leader” to visit Israel.
Israeli Prime Minister, “Menahem Begin,” “Sadat,” and United States President “Jimmy Carter” met at ‘Camp David, Maryland’ in 1978. They worked out an agreement for peace between Egypt and Israel and drew up a framework for a broader peace for the entire “Middle East.” In stages, Israel agreed to withdraw from the “Sinai Peninsula” in 1982. With this action, the two nations did establish diplomatic relations in 1979.

The “Nobel Peace Prize” was shared in 1978 by ‘Sadat’ and ‘Begin.’ Many Arab Nations condemned Egypt’s recognition of Israel and withdrew their aid and expelled Egypt from “the Arab League.” Sadat was assassinated in 1981 by Muslim Extremists; according to the various reports; who opposed his policies, including the peace treaty with Israel. His successor, “Hosni Mubarak,” continued to support the agreed upon peace treaty.

The last Israeli Troops withdrew from the ‘Sinai’ on April 25, 1982, and the area was returned to Egypt. However, relations between Israel and Egypt got bigger…strained again after Israeli Forces invaded “Lebanon” later that year.

Today, there remains unrest, hatred, suspicion, and hatred throughout the “Middle East.”

Oh, what will happen next in such an historic land…?

“There are more things in Heaven and Earth Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy”

>

” Infidels! Non-Believers! Intolerant Unbelievers – Unclean Hands and Eyes! – They Will Not / Shall Not Go Unpunished – They Shall Suffer The Consequences Of Their Accursed Desecration(s) and Actions Upon Our Most Sacred And Holy! …They Shall Suffer – All of The Desecrators…Their Descendants – All – The Last Desecrator Is The Task At Hand!”
~ Mehemet Bey, High Priest of Karnak ~

The Baboon:
The “Sacred Baboon” – the 24 carved in stone represents the twenty-four hours of the day, The Nubians and The Hittites – Waring Factions; Ramessu – Ramses; Abdu Kemet (Abydos, Egypt/Kemet; The Goddess Aset-Asarus-Isis and the “Seed of Conception;” The Sacred Baboon represents Birth – The Zuktite – The Hippo, breaking the water of birth; the Virgin Birth; The canopic Jars – Mummification

The last of the students (and teachers) from the college and university have arrived at the “Cairo Airport.”

Professor Allen Frederick Bruce: (A White Male English Professor)
Penn State University – Doctorate Degree, specializing in World Archeology, History of the Ancients, Land and Building Architecture. Residing in Glennside, PA. (Anglo-American/Christian)

Professor Walter Patten Huddleston: (A White Male English Professor)
Temple University – Doctorate Degree, specializing in Archeology, World History, The Ancient Lands of Egypt, and Map Making. Residing in Willow Grove, PA. (Anglo-American/Christian))

Dr. Mary Elaine Delaney: (A White Female Teacher of Irish Descent)
Temple University – Doctorate Degree, specializing in Medicine, Coroner-Current Assistant Pennsylvania Medical Examiner assigned to Montgomery County Medical Examiners Office, Student of Archeology at Pierce College of Philadelphia, PA. Residing in South Philadelphia, PA. (Anglo-American/Christian))

Mr. Ali Ben Aswa: (An Asiatic/Middle Eastern Man)
Lincoln University – Masters Degree, specializing in History of Ancient Egyptians, Egypt, Archeology, World History, and Architecture. Residing in Mount Airy Philadelphia, PA. (Asian-MiddleEastern/Muslim)

Between the four educators, there was no way near enough capital to fund an expedition of any sort…Especially one such as this: They came up with the idea to form a school of archeological research and findings. They named the school – “The Archeological School of History and Research – A.S.H.B.”

The founders have managed to excite and draw enough interested or like-minded students to their institute of higher learning; bringing in more than enough money to fund their needs and enterprise(s).
Out of forty-four enrolled students, fourteen of them have managed to pay or buy into the trip, expedition and dig in “The Land of The Ancients, Egypt.

The old firehouse, turned warehouse, and then abandoned building – a bad business site due to a lack of public parking in or around the ‘Germantown Avenue and Johnson St.’ location. The old firehouse building sat on the corner which hosted a small alley-way on the side of the structure to it’s rear. The alley led to a small and secluded hub of what could be described as a “Cal de sac” of tiny row-homes; about ten of them; located at the rear of the old building. Since these houses were sort of off the beaten causeway in the neighborhood, many have had no idea of their existence. Many people residing in the Germantown, Mt. Airy area, had no idea that these structures actually existed. These buildings were once home to “Black Slaves” owned by the occupiers of the nearby mansions, one of which was owned by “Justice Benjamin S. Chew – of Cliveden Manor – The Cliveden.”

The group of teachers had very little trouble obtaining a charter for their school. They were fully endorsed by their attended institutions of higher learning, colleagues, employers, business associates, and students. The school was set-up, off and running inside of a few months (as opposed to years of planning) – the trip to Egypt/Kemet/Mizram was squared away, permits (were obtained and granted), schedules, and all just inside of two to three weeks.

Arriving in “Abydos, Egypt,” the groups first stop; after settling logging and meal accommodations; of the tour was the “Temple of “Seti, the first,” at the “Ptahsokkor Shrine.” Then they visited the “Great Pyramids” and the “Sphinx” for a photo-opt. The third stop was the “Temple of Karnak.”

“Man, how majestic! I never thought that I’d ever be able to touch, let alone see these beautiful and magnificent creations – ever!” ‘Walter Beville’ made that highly emotional statement gleefully and with awe to his colleague, ‘Sylvia Lacey,’ of “Temple University” in Philadelphia, PA. She simply smiled at him.
‘Michael Miller,‘ a graduate student of “The Berean Institute” in Philadelphia, PA shared Walter’s ecstatic emotion. His concurrence added emphasis on the “Blackness” of the moment.
“Brother, you are absolutely correct – I felt that feeling when I went down to “D.C.” and touched the statue of “Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.” But damn Bro., it’s ten times that in comparison – being in here, in “The Valley of The Kings”; feeling this, the honor of the moment is indescribable! My Relatives, My Family, My People built and owned all of this!”

‘Professor Allen Frederick Bruce, (PHD)’ Penn State University, of “Glenside, PA” chimed in…”Man, you ain’t seen nothing yet! Just wait until you get inside…a great man once said, “The Truth Shall Set You Free!” The inside information will definitely set right a whole bunch of lies!”

“Oh yes, you don’t even have to know how to read hieroglyphics in order to understand the written messages therein,” added ‘Professor Walter Patrick Huddleston, (PHD)’ Penn State University, of “Willow Grove, PA”
Allen and Walter made it clear to the group that they were the “Go-to-guys,” Prof. Bruce before Prof. Huddleston.

‘Dr. Mary Elaine Delaney, (PHD)’ Temple University, a cute red-head of “South Philadelphia, PA” attempted to explain the rules and regulations while inside the temples, even though this is her first trip to Kemet/Egypt/Mizraim just like the rest of the group, except Allen and Walter; they’ve both been here before.

‘Ali Ben Aswa,’ Lincoln University (Masters), of “Mount Airy in Philadelphia, PA,” said absolutely nothing. He nodded on occasion and gave a simple half-smile or two when necessary.

The remaining party laughed, giggled, spoke among themselves, pointed at things, and snapped photos…

“Just so that everyone knows who everyone is – we all should introduce and/or re-introduce ourselves so that we all might “buddy-up” for safety’s sake.
As you all know, my name is Mary Delaney. I’m one of the four teachers here with you and back at our school, good ole’ “A.S.H.R.!”

Most everyone laughed. But not Aswa.

“Of course, you all know the other three teachers…but just in case you didn’t know or have forgotten, this tall, talented, and handsome guy is our illustrious leader, “Professor Allen Bruce!” She giggled like a silly juvenile school-girl as she made the introduction.
Bruce made himself noticed by stepping out in front of the group, waving and smiling. He stood about six foot two, two hundred and thirty-eight pounds, (Anglo-American), dark thick hair, bearded with a slight hint of silver elegantly placed throughout, and about forty-eight years of age.

“And our second in command “Mary continued, smiling brightly, “is Professor Walter Huddleston! …C’mon step out here and take a bow, Dr. Huddleston…Walt!”
The amiable Walter stepped out in front of the group, just as Allen had done, giving a half-smile and a limp wave.
The whole group laughed lightly and half-smiled in return.
Walter stood about six-foot-one, slightly built, well muscled and groomed, slightly wimpish, not a coward, highly intelligent, long brown shoulder length hair, pulled back into a “Pony-tail,” (Anglo-American), about thirty-five years of age, and weighing about two-hundred and twenty-five pounds.

“And now, last but not least, is our own walking “Middle-Eastern Historian,” none other than Master Ali Ben Aswa!”

Aswa looked at Mary with disdain. She didn’t recognize it. Aswa felt like the target of a group of infidels who had the nerve to attempt at making him an example; a fool in his own land. He cared not for their jovial introduction(s).
Ali Ben Aswa peered over the group of students; pausing slightly when locking eyes with the ones of color; and smiled along with a half-bow.

“Many thanks, Effendi, and welcome to my natural born home-land.”

Aswa was not a large man. He stood a little under six-foot and was of a thin build. Neatly trimmed raven black hair, clean shaven, well-dressed, golden brown of complexion, and hauntingly gentle soft brown eyes with a touch of sadness as well. He was a very handsome man. (Saqqara, Egypt/Sunni Muslim).

“Now that we are all getting acquainted with out staff membership, let’s all get to meet you one and all.”

Mary smiled as he pointed at the students, directing them to the center spot within the group’s circle. A portable microphone, attached to a recording device and speaker was passed along. The group was standing in the back-lot of the ‘Cairo Hotel’ with a majestic view of the Pyramids in the back-drop.

One by one, the students all stood in turn, introducing themselves…

“Hi everyone, My name is Cullen Harper (a young black 21 year old male of thin build). I’m a third year student at Penn State University. My major is literary science and archeology, while my minor is ‘Black History.’ It’s great being here and it’s nice meeting you all, thank you!” He smiled and passed the mic.

“Hi everybody…I’m ‘Katherine Leggits (an 18 year old white female who is of an attractive petite frame).’ Everybody calls me ‘Kate!’ I’m also studying at Penn State University’s Ogontz Campus in Abington just outside of Philly. I am also a third year student studying archeology, literary science, astrology, and theater. Thank you so very much – I’m happy to be here with you all as well!” She smiled and stepped back into the group, handing the microphone to the next student.

“Hello Everyone, my name is ‘Walter Beville (a five-foot-seven medium built Black man of 18 years).’ I’m a fourth year student at Temple University in Philly, PA. My major interest of study is “Ancient Egypt” and “Ancient History,” along with ‘Black History.’ I guess one could say I would be classified as a historian of sorts…nice traveling and being here with you all.” He smiled and passed the mic.

Next in line was Frank Lifton, (an athletic two-hundred and fifty pound, six-foot-two thirty year old Black warehouse worker). “Hello all…I’m ‘Frank.’ Like Brother Walt, I’m a four year student as well. The only difference is our choice of schools. I’m from ‘Chaney University.” Frank didn’t smile or wave, he simply passed the microphone to the next introductee…’Gloria.’

“Hello, my name is ‘Gloria Epstein’ (a pretty twenty-year old woman of Jewish descent). I’m a second year student at Penn State. My campus is also the Ogontz location just outside of Philadelphia in Abington, Montgomery County. I’m majoring in archeology and ancient history with computer science thrown in as well.” Gloria stood just over five-foot two; a pretty Jewish auburn-haired woman with a deliciously desireable build and a bit more “Earthy” than she would admit.

Gloria smiled at everyone and passed the speaking device along to the next speaker.

“Hello, my name is ‘Sylvia Lacey.’ I’m so very happy and privileged to be here with you all. Like most of us, I’m a third year student at Temple University, majoring in archeology and ancient history…thanks for sharing this major experience, it’s the most thrilling experience of a life time!” ‘Sylvia’ carried a body that just wouldn’t quit. with piercing green eyes, she is twenty-one years of age and of Irish decent. She wore a crown of beautiful long red hair pulled back into a wavy pony-tail, tied with a pink ribbon. she was pretty tall, standing just shy of six-foot. She smiled and waved her red painted nails while passing the mic…it went to “Norma.”

Unlike ‘Sylvia,’ twenty-three, who measured up physically with ‘Gloria,’ differing in hair color, style, and height. ‘Gloria’ sported curly shoulder length hair, while ‘Norma’s’ hair is blonde and thick, growing in length down her back, settling along her belt-line. ‘Norma’ is also a bit taller than the preceding speakers. She stood about five-foot-eleven, sporting a full-figured, yet attractive frame.

“Greetings and Salutations everyone! Aren’t we lucky as all hell to be here in ‘Egypt?’ Do you think we’ll get the opportunity to see some “Mummies” and things?” She smiled and giggled…and then let loose a hearty soul-felt laugh…and the group laughed too. Aswa didn’t.

“My name is ‘Norma Christensen,’ and I’m happy to be here with you. I’m in my fourth year at ‘Pierce College’ in center city Philadelphia. My course major is ancient art. Oh how I love artifacts and old stuff!” She smiled and giggled some more and continued, “On the low end of my studies is liberal arts. I’m really digging it and having such a blast! Thank you.”

‘Norma’ sat down with the mic still in her hand, She had to be reminded to pass it along to the next student. She embarrassingly laughed and passed the mic to ‘Micheal.’ He stood six-foot-three with a strong lean muscled frame. His neatly cropped and tapered “Afro” was much admired. He was clean shaven except for a curved yet thin mustache; looking sort of like “Pecos-Bob,” or something of the sort; that the ladies found quite attractive. This young Black Man was about twenty-three year of age with the kool suave and graceful manner of someone twice his age.

“Hi, my parents named me “Micheal Miller.” Out of respect for my father and his father, I’ve retained the “Slave Name.” You may all address me as ‘Mike.’ It won’t bother me as long as we can retain a level of mutual respect. And yes, we are all very much privileged to be able to set foot in “The Land of Kem.” Many call it “Egypt” while the ‘Motherland’ is truly known as “Kemet” or “Mizraim.” I feel that I’ve truly, yet simply come home to “Mother Africa,” the ancestral home of my people!”

This young man got ‘Aswa’s’ attention. “Oh yes, we are all very much privileged to be in such a place of honor – respect as well!”

Micheal continued, “I’m in my second year at “The Berean Institute.” I’m studying computer science, and business administration as well as world history at ‘Temple University’s’ P.A.S.C.E.P. Program in Philly. …Remember, respect the history and culture of the ‘Motherland,’ and all will be well. “HOTEP!””

Aswa smiled to himself. He liked this young man.

‘Mike’ passed the mic to the next speaker. This guy was immense in stature. He could very easily be mistaken for a professional football player in the N.F.L. He stood six-foot-nine at two-hundred and seventy-eight pounds. There didn’t appear to be an ounce of fat on this twenty-eight year old Black Man.

“My name is ‘Neville F. Armstrong.’ Don’t ask me what the “F” in my middle name is…I won’t tell you!” He smiled. The group laughed aloud. “Hello everyone. It’s great being here with you in this land of history, ancient mysteries, and fascination. I think it’s great that we’re all here together on such an adventure as this. I’m a third year student at ‘Chaney University.’ I’m studying anthropolgy, archeology, and architecture.”
The intelligently and handsome big man semi-waved at the group as he smiled and sat down. He too forgot to pass the mic and had to be reminded.
Meanwhile, a pair of green eyes followed him and remained focused upon him for quite some awhile… He had been admired ever since the beginning of the trip.

‘Alfred S. Stiller,’ got the mic next. He didn’t speak loudly. He spoke swiftly and passed the mic along. ‘Alfred was a tall, lean and frail looking ‘Anglo-American.’ His Alma Mater is ‘Strayer University.‘ His campus of study is located in Montgomery County, just outside of Philadelphia, PA. His major is anthropology and archeology. He’s also a third year student. Alfred wore heavily prescribed eye-glasses and was pretty shy around the female gender. He was also a kid of nineteen years from the ‘Huntington Valley region, a suburban community just outside Northeast Philadelphia.

‘Steven Rinere’ got the mic next. Like ‘Alfred,’ he was tall and lean. He didn’t wear glasses. He also is an “Anglo-American’ of nineteen years of age studying at the ‘Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medical Sciences, in his third year of medical studies; intending to become a doctor, his studies also include ‘anthropology and archeology. ‘Steve’ is from the “Bala Cynwyd’ area of Philly. He learned of this archeological trip through friends and family familiar with Professor Bruce. He only stated his name and school, while quickly passing the mic to the next student who stood waiting.

‘Jonathan Mason,‘ also attends “The Philadelphia College of Osteopathic Medicine and Sciences. He transferred from the University of Philadelphia. He is twenty-one years of age, a “Hebrew” Afro-American from ‘Germantown’ in Philly, attending school in his fourth year of studying medicine, anthropology, and archeology. He was told about the trip via his friend and school-mate, Jonathan is of average height, about six-foot tall, weighing near one-hundred and ninety pounds.

The mic was then passed to ‘James.’

“Yo, wha’s up y’all! I’m James Xavier Harper, also a proud Black Man from ‘Chaney University.’ “I don’t know the Brother who spoke before me from “Chaney,’ but shit, I don’t know y’all either. Y’all can call me ‘James X,’ or ‘Jimmy,’ and plain ole ‘James.’ …I might respond and I might not.” He expected a laugh or two. Maybe even a smile. He got neither. So he continued speaking…”My neighborhood is in North Philly, ‘thirty-third and Cumberland’ to be precise. I’m twenty-two years old, preparing to graduate from my senior year. I’m studying liberal arts, theatrical arts, and history…taking this trip for extra credit. Topping off my grades and shit, puts me over the edge…”In like Flint, ya know!” They can’t take away my degree…for any fuckin reason! I’ve earned It – I worked hard as hell for it! Oh, and by the way, I don’t take no shit either – from anybody!”

‘James,’ as observed by everyone, was a bit rough around the edges…(to be continued).

(…This passage is simply a taste of a new and upcoming novella. Hope You’ve enjoyed the opening. 🙂 )

STAY TUNED FOR THE ENTIRE STORY, COMING SOON!

Reasearch/Acknowlegments:

“There are more things in Heaven and Earth Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
~William Shakespeare-‘Hamlet’/Jorge Luis Borges-‘Book of Sand’~

Ashra Kwesi:
The Temple of Amen and The Black Jesus/Yahushua
The Origin of The Immaculate Conception Story / Abdu Kemet (Abydos, Egypt)
The Invasions and Battles of Kemet From The Ancient Temple
God’s Chosen Children at The Temple of Ramessu, Kemet (Egypt)
The African Origin of Noah’s Ark and Other Biblical Stories
Kemetnu.com

Mummies:
Mummies of The World
http://mummiesoftheworld.com/
http://www.unionstation.org/mummies/about-the-exhibition/
FAQ
Q: Where do these mummies come from?
The exhibition features a group of fascinating mummies and artifacts on loan from 12 world-renowned museums, organizations and collections coming from 5 countries.

Q: Are these mummies real?
Mummies of the World is the largest collection of real mummies and related artifacts that has ever been assembled! You will be seeing a fascinating collection of mummies with some increadible stories, including:
-The Vac Mummies, a mummified family from Hungary believed to have died from tuberculosis
-The Baron Von Holz, a German nobleman found tucked away in the family crypt of a 14th century castle wearing his best leather boots
-The Burns Collection, a group of medical mummies used to teach anatomy in the early 19th century
-An Egyptian priest named Nes-Hor whom we have determined had arthritis and a broken left hip
-Egyptian animal mummies including a falcon, a fish, a dog and a baby crocodile, many of which were deliberately preserved to accompany royals for eternity
-MUMAB, the first replication of Egyptian mummification done on a body in 2,800 years
-And much more….

Q: What is a mummy?
A mummy is the dead body of an animal or a human that has been preserved after death so that it does not decompose. To be considered a mummy and not just a skeleton, the body must keep some of its soft tissue, such as hair, skin or muscles.

Q: What is mummification and how do mummies happen?
Mummification takes place when the process of decay is blocked, generally from a lack of moisture or oxygen. This can happen as an intentional process, which sometimes is referred to as intentional or artificial mummification, or as a natural process, which sometimes is referred to as natural or accidental mummification.

Some cultures, like the Egyptians, practiced intentional or artificial mummification, removing the internal organs and treating the corpses with some type of resin or chemical (often called embalming), and then bandaging or wrapping them. Natural mummification often occurs as a result of an environment where temperature, humidity or other conditions have preserved the remains. This may have happened accidentally, when people either died in locations where environmental conditions preserved the bodies, or when people were purposely placed in locations that would mummify the body, such as a dry, cool cave, a bog or crypt.

Q: Why study mummies and what can they teach us?
Mummies provide a window to the past, teaching us about the lives, history and cultures of every region of the world. By studying mummies, we can learn more about the times and places in which they lived. Through modern science, their bodies tell us scientific facts; how tall people were, how long they lived, what kinds of food they ate and the diseases and injuries they suffered from. Clothing, jewelry and other personal artifacts placed on or with a mummy can tell us about the person’s status and lifestyle, as well as the values, beliefs, and attitudes of the culture in which they lived. By knowing how people lived long ago, we can better understand how differently people live today. This allows us to observe how cultures change over time and give us insight into how our own culture may change in the future.

Q: Where are mummies found?
Not all mummies come from Egypt and are wrapped. In fact, mummies come from all over the world and have been found on every continent. Mummies of the World features mummies from South America, Europe, as well as Egypt. They include mummies that have been intentionally preserved and mummies that have been naturally preserved and found in places as varied as deserts, caves, salt, sand, cellars, crypts and bogs.
http://www.unionstation.org/mummies/about-the-exhibition/faqs/

Dr. Zahi Hawass, Youtube; Cairo, Kemet (Egypt), Saqqaura (Saqqara, Saqqarah, Saqqara); Bird, Pyramid

Mummy Wrappings – Mummification:
Papyrus Linen and Ramie: Bacteria and Mildew Resistant – Myrh and other spices are placed inside the body; The Salt-like Natron Solution is applied to dry the body – It takes 70 Days for total completion.
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=mummy+w…
https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?search=mummy+wrappings&tit…

Egypt:
The New Book of Knowledge, Grolier Inc., Danbury Conn., 1984

Kuffieh:
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=kuffieh
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palestinian_keffiyeh

Fez:
The fez is a felt headdress of two types: either in the shape of a close-fitting skull cap, or a short cylindrical peakless hat made of kilim fabric, both usually red, and sometimes with a tassel attached to the top. It is named after the Moroccan city Fez, the capital of the Kingdom of Morocco until 1927. The modern fez owes much of its development and popularity to the Ottoman era.
https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Special:Search&searc…

Kufi:
Headgear (redirect from Hats and Caps)
considered modest. Muslim men also wear a skullcap called a “kufi” or taqiyah (cap). Until more recent times, men in most Muslim societies were rarely
https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Special:Search&searc…
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kufi

African and African-American usage:
In West Africa, a kufi cap is the traditional hat for men, and is part of the national costume of most of the countries in the region. It is worn by Muslims, African Christians and African Jews, although originally Islamic. Many grandfathers and other older men wear a kufi every day to symbolize their status as wise elders, religious people, or family patriarchs.
Within the United States, it has become identified primarily with persons of West African heritage, who wear it to show pride in their culture, history, and religion (whether Christianity, Islam, Judaism or Traditional African religions). Often made of kente cloth, mudcloth, or knitted or crocheted in a variety of yarns.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kufi

Dashiki:
The dashiki is a colorful garment for women and men worn mostly in West Africa. It covers the top half of the body. It has formal and informal versions and varies from simple draped clothing to fully tailored suits. A common form is a loose-fitting pullover garment, with an ornate V-shaped collar, and tailored and embroidered neck and sleeve lines. It is frequently worn with a brimless Kufi cap, which is worn in Islamic communities in Africa and the African diaspora, and a pair of pants. The name dashiki is derived from the Hausa word dan ciki, which means shirt.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dashiki

Ramesses I:
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Menpehtyre Ramesses I (or Ramses) was the founding pharaoh of ancient Egypt’s 19th dynasty. The dates for his short reign are not completely known but the time-line of late 1292–1290 BC is frequently cited[2] as well as 1295–1294 BC.[3] While Ramesses I was the founder of the 19th dynasty, in reality his brief reign marked the transition between the reign of Horemheb who had stabilized Egypt in the late 18th dynasty and the rule of the powerful pharaohs of this dynasty, in particular his son Seti I and grandson Ramesses II, who would bring Egypt up to new heights of imperial power.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ramesses_I

Ruth Warren:
Author, First Book of the Arab World
Reviewed by Mona N. Mikhail, Hagop Kevorkian Center for Near Eastern Studies, New York University

Dr. Martin Luther King Quotes:
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=dr.+kin…

MIZRAIM:
http://www.blacksinthebible.org/mizraim.html
http://www.blacksinthebible.org/index.html
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=mizraim

*/

“KINGS”-Upper&Lower Egypt
https://ezinearticles.com/?Kings—Upper-and-Lower-Egypt&id=101…
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Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/10162827 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~BoulwareEnterprises~

http://www.BoulwareEnterprises.com

https://about.me/gregory_boulware

“Article Posting Sites”

https://www.blogger.com/profile/10910946197037982583

https://thenewboulwareenterprises.blogspot.com/2020/01/new-boulwareenterprises.html?spref=tw

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/

http://www.linkedin.com/pub/gregory-boulware/10/435/44b

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7237172.Gregory_V_Boulware

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http://ezinearticles.com/?expert_bio=Gregory_V._Boulware

~The Connect Platform~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Amazon”

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

https://authorcentral.amazon.com/gp/profile

http://www.authorsden.com/gregoryvboulware

And

“Twitter”

https://twitter.com/AuthorBoulwareG

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

https://twitter.com/AuthorBoulwareG/status/541394366842281984

https://www.academia.edu/

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https://www.authorsden.com/visit/author.asp?id=168361

ThePaper.Li.BoulwareDaily

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

*/

/*

‘Fairmount’- Willis Samuel Investigations Pt. 9:

“The Games Afoot!” ~
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/fairmount-willis-…

Part 9: “The Games Afoot!”

 

While driving away from the shooting scene, I thought of what Sally was telling me before I left the office…

“I wasn’t seeing the relevance of all this until this ‘Sabbat-type’ of gathering occurred. I don’t know why, but a cold and bone shivering chill ran up and down my spine.

“I would advise you to take another look at this information. I know your superiors don’t think it’s worth a shit…but then again, they don’t cotton to you, me, or anybody else of color to get them thinking and moving for any cause that we think worthy. Brother, I wouldn’t go fucking around with not getting this thing out in the open. It may create trouble for you or it might get you the mayor’s seat…possibly the good graces of the public at large.”

Just as I was enjoying the momentary quiet of the humming engine, another call loudly and coldly squawked over the radio…“At least six Philadelphia police officers were shot during a gun battle in Philadelphia’s East-Falls section of town!”

Sally’s memory quickly leapt out of my mind when the deadening voice of the present danger continued speaking. “Two officers and three others who were trapped inside the home with the shooter!”

The deadly horror scene was much worse than the scene at the Tacony location, were I just left.

“IN PROGRESS…A SHOOTING IN GERMANTOWN, ON GREENE ST., AT ABBOTTSFORD AVE., MAN DOWN!” And just as soon as I was headed to that location, another tragedy was squawked over the Police Communications Network… “ATTENTION…ATTENTION…ALERT…A CHILD HAS BEEN SHOT!” That call location was in the North Philly Section of town. How in hell could I be in two locations at the same time? Many of the evening shift are at the Tacony location and/or on other calls throughout the city. There was a stabbing in the “Point Breeze” area of South Philadelphia…another bad scene was in the Northeast part of town. That tragedy was a “Hit and Run.” The dead woman was aged sixty-four. The pickup truck was recovered along with the driver. That scene had to be secured and locked down. On the Boulevard, a van jumped the guard rail and was caught by its undercarriage, hanging off an overpass…it was fleeing the scene of a shooting investigation in “Olney.”

The shooter was apprehended at the scene…it was the man’s wife. She caught him with another woman at the home of her cousin near Green St. and Abbottsford. It was she whom the man had been sleeping. The child was shot by his friend while they were playing with a gun in a basement of a home on Allegheny Avenue. There was no way that I could make the South Philly call, a stabbing on Point Breeze Avenue near 22nd Street…it was handled by the cops of the 1st District on 24th St. The dead woman was hit and killed on Red Lion Road near the Roosevelt Boulevard. The guys at the 8th District were handling that one. The Olney call was handled by the officers of the 24th.

So now I’m free to make things right on this call.

This call came in while I traveled west on Torresdale Avenue. “We have gone from a hostage situation to one of a barricade,” said the radio voice. Warren broke the new silence with his call. “Yo Chief, you alright?” I answered, “Yeah, where are you?”

“I’m headed down the Boulevard enroute to the shoot-out in the “Falls.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there, I’m enroute as well.” We seemed to arrive at the same time… The shooting was still going on when we arrived. “Merrick Road,” near “Midvale Avenue,” after Calumet, on the way north towards “Schoolhouse Lane,” off of “Ridge Avenue,” was cluttered with blue and white squad cars. You couldn’t see past them up the hill, let alone get up the fuckin hill for all the damned cars. Warren and I parked our cars down at the bottom of the hill on Ridge Avenue and walked up to the peak of “Look-Out-Mountain.” The hill is located at the crest of Merrick at “Creswell Street.” That street was a pretty steep hill as well. Merrick was simply higher and seemed to take longer on a ride down to the bottom as opposed to the other.

Two officers and three others inside the home took on fire during the incident. They were fired upon once they arrived at the residence, intending to only question the suspect. A call came in to the 39th District about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. The caller said they heard a fight going on within an apartment on the 11th floor of the “Earlham” building. A unit was dispatched to check things out. When the unit arrived at the back of the building in the parking lot, something was tossed or had fallen from one of the overhead windows. The water and glass shattered spraying debris all over and striking the squad car. The officers reacted by ducking for cover. They then rushed toward the underpass of the building towards the elevators. Once on the elevator, they were accompanied by an occupant of the building who heard the disturbance…he was not the one who called. The man aided them with the location of the trouble. The apartment fight was indeed on the 11th floor.

When they knocked on the door, things went quiet. They, the male and female officers, knocked again with more intent. “This is the police, please open the door,” said the female officer in a loud and official voice. The door slowly opened. A woman was standing there, blocking the way in, obscuring the view of the interior. The male officer asked the woman if there was anything wrong. She had large tears running down her face. She seemed horrified as she attempted to hush and rush the cops away. “I’m okay…please leave before he sees you!”

A loud voice was heard from inside the apartment unit… “Who the fuck is at my got-damned door? It’s the motherfuckin police ain’t it? I saw the got-damned cop car out the window…I’m going to turn the fuckin thing into a pile of blue and white shit, right now! Bitch, shut the damned door before I kill your stupid ass!” The woman made an attempt to close the door. That’s when the officers pushed open the door and rushed past the crying and frightened woman; while she shouted for them to please leave before he starts shooting again!

Shots rang out! The angry and crazed man was indeed shooting out of the apartment window when the two officers burst into his bedroom. He shot the police car, hitting it with a barrage of automatic rifle bullits. The officers dove for cover when the shooter turned and pointed the weapon at them. The officer fell back out of the bedroom door, pilling on top of one another. They couldn’t get away…they were both shot and bleeding. They had no idea of how deranged the shooter was. His monstrous anger went out of control when he was cheated out of his pay check. He worked for the woman’s brother who owned a construction company. The man beat up his brother-in-law for the disrespect and shorted pay. The employer paid his workers under the table for their work in dismantling old houses. The disgruntled shooter had been cheated before. The argument started when they sat down at the table to have a few drinks from the bottle of wine they’d brought with them from the days’ job. It was Friday. On Friday is when the men got paid and they would usually have a few drinks or a couple of six packs of beer and a bag of joint or two. Today was different…he would have no bullshit from his brother-in-law, or anyone else for that matter, today he was going to be treated right. He was going to be respected; especially in his own home. But, the brother-in-law came in with the same ole bullshit. Richard was not having any. He got his gun, pointed it at the head of his employer and told him to pay him what he owed him. The man laughed. The madman hit him across the face with the butt of the weapon and began to beat the shit out of the cheater. He beat his ass and then kicked him out of the apartment. He took all of the money in the man’s pockets…getting what was owed to him.

The beaten man threatened to call the cops… The shooter replied, “Oh yeah, call them motherfuckers and I’ll deal with them too!”

Two women and two children were escorted by the Philadelphia SWAT Team from the scene. They told CBS3 that they were inside the home on the twelfth floor at the time of the shootout and that police saved them.

Salestian Michaels arrived on the scene. He was there when the call came in for a “Swat Team” and “Hostage Negotiators.” Three other officers arrived before Swat. They had been fired upon and caught up in the turmoil right along with the first two cops. They were all trapped inside of the apartment. The corridor door faced the bedroom where the shooter was shooting from. None of the five officers could get out due the line of fire. They were all trapped inside the room; out of the line of fire; away from the doorway. The sixth officer stumbled in, falling inside from the wildly fired shots, winding up behind the door accessing the corridor doorway. He unfortunately feel inside, behind the door, causing it to close…trapping them all inside with the crazed and wildly mad automatic weaponed shooter.

While the standoff continued, Salestian began interviewing residents from in and around the project area as they began to gather. The cops were unsuccessful in keeping them all back, in spite of the gun-fire from above. Sally knew a great story when one arrived. This one fell right into his lap. Right inside his van, he began typing and videotaping the “East Falls Story.”

The article would read as follows:

~”East Falls, The Black and White of It”~

…The White Side Experience(s):

These are some of the ‘White Folks’ who have lived and grown-up in The East Falls Housing Projects during the fifties and sixties...

Anne wrote:
I have and still do live across from the East Falls Project.
When I was young the high rise building used to scare me. No one could ever predict what was going to be thrown out the windows. What I mostly saw being tossed was trash, appliances, animals, maybe a few body parts and even a body or 2.
Especially at night, waking me up from the sounds of screeching brakes, crashing their cars into everything and anything. The noise was so loud i’d have to hold my ears.
The worst were the dog fights. I can remember crying from the sounds of the dogs getting hurt. In the summer, at night, the kids in the project would line up against the fence along the tracks with railroad rocks and just start throwing them at the houses along Cresson Street. Forcing us to run for cover until they were done. We were lucky if we got a chance to finish a game of wireball at the bottom of Fisk and Cresson before they ruined it with throwing rocks. The best part of the day of the implosion was spending it with my Brother Franny, Just the look on his face I will never forget. I felt we had a real brother and sister moment. He lived for that day….
I was fortunate to watch the implosion with my brother Franny. I couldn’t have had a better person to be with. That was the last time I saw him. What a memory

Joan wrote:
I lived on Merrick rd from 59 to 63 back than my last name was Gleason there were five of us kids . It was the best place in the whole world to be a kid. After we moved I spent every weekend at Margie Wilson’s house and @ hung out with Wally Price, Skip Hummel Charlie Parker. Miss the good old days for sure.

Beverly wrote:
Does anyone remember the Oscar Meyer Wiener truck coming to the prodject ,have a pic but can t find it.

Mary wrote:
Yes!!!i remember.someone from east falls recently took a job to drive the wiener truck it’s going across country again!!cant remember who posted that about a month ago.

David wrote:
In 1840, during the presidential campaign of William Henry Harrison, a log cabin was built for him across from Wissahickon Hall. Afterwards, the log cabin was deconstructed and rebuilt as the Old Log Cabin Inn. It was located off the road and separated by the creek, and to reach it patrons had to cross a small wooden bridge, known then as the Log Cabin Bridge. It was razed in 1872.

David wrote:
“Cars on Lincoln Drive, another danger point at the intersection of lower Wissahickon and Lincoln Drives. Because of the abrupt turn here and the great number of motor cars using both drives it is ranked among the most dangerous of Fairmount Park traffic points and has been the scene of many accidents.” February 1st 1927.

Tom wrote:
How you doing How are all my project families doing , I’m going down to Gustine. lake for a swim this afternoon anyone else in .? What’s hot up!

George wrote:
Oh, to only have those days back again!i could sure use a nice dip in Gustine Lake right now. I remember going there with my parents and brothers when it was a real lake. Also, where the Creswell building was built used to be a stable where you rent horses. My dad used to take me there to see the horses. One day we went and the stables were gone,all the ground torn up. Never thouth the project would be built there and that i would live there. the best place ever to live. I miss it so.

Dory wrote:
All that concreat we sure got nice tans remember LOUIE the crossing guard?

Janet wrote:
Does anyone remember Kevin Bacon’s mother, Ruth, teaching at the nursery school? She began teaching there around 1958, after Mrs.Walker left. Who could have imagined that her son would be a famous actor?

Mary wrote:
I remember Geno’s!!!! (a.k.a., Gino’s-“The Gino-Giant, GVB)

Marisa wrote:
My 1st job! (Mine too, GVB)

Toni wrote:
Toni Still (Carson). Thanks for letting me join. I have seen several names and faces I remember well! They were the good ole days!

David wrote:
Officer George Mang of the Philadelphia Safety Patrol Unit at his post on the Henry Ave Bridge – October of 1941.

David wrote:
Wissahickon Drive circa 1901. The name “Wissahickon” comes from the Lenni Lenape word “wisameckham” for “catfish creek”, a reference to the species of fish that once abounded in the nearby Wissahickon Creek.

David wrote:
Grace Kelly and her parents attending Easter Sunday Mass at St.Bridget’s R.C.Church in East Falls on April 2,1956. (He posted a photo of Grace Kelly and Parents – John and Margret, St. Bridget Church in The Falls – Their home, 3901 Henry Ave.)

Wally Posted this:
(a memorial placard that read)-“Charles Peyatt, 10, of Merrick Rd., in East Falls, died Monday at 5 A.M. in Women’s Medical College from injuries he received when struck by a car Sunday night on Winona Street.

Janet wrote:
I remember this, i lived on Winona St back then!

Marisa wrote:
Ok, Brothers and Sisters from EFP, we are meeting at Franklins at Cresson and Bowman sts for our yearly luncheon at 1:00pm on February 25, weather permitting, Cya there.

Marisa wrote:
As usual, our luncheon went great! I love to sit back and watch everyone talk about the good ole days or even things going on in this time of our lives! Thank you everyone for being there and sharing great memories.

Tom wrote:
A piece of me died that day… (when they blew up the East Falls Towers)(and Me Too, GVB).

Jim wrote:
I was sitting across from the train station with Joe Long when they went down.

Jack wrote:
I wonder if Sammy Barlow was still in there?

Tom wrote:
Do you remember ??? Many moons ago back in the mid sixties girls would save chewing gum wrappers and then fold them a certain way then link them together to form a chain . they made the chain as long as their boyfriend was tall then gave it to him . does anyone remember this ? Did you ever make one or get one ? I got one.

Marisa wrote:
LORETTA Clark and I used to make them out of Wrigley spearmint gum wrappers and make them long enough to go around our bedroom doorway!

Angela wrote:
I just read on Philly.com that Prince Albert of Monaco will be in Philly on Tuesday to talk about his plans for the Kelly Home at 3902 Henry Ave.

Carol wrote:
I only remember driving pass their houses and always telling who ever I was with who lived there LoL.

Peggi wrote:
I use to love to walk by the Kelly house! I’m so glad that the house is being kept in the family! An East Falls treasure.

Tom wrote:
I can see my house . Can you see yours? (An arial photo of East Falls in its’ entirety)(I remember the experiencing that very same view when a few of us, hosted by Peter Goodwin, while on an arial trip from the Northeast Airport. Goodwin rented an airplane,taking us for a ride-we flew over the East Falls Projects because it was our home, GVB).

Carol wrote:
Both of them, Merrick Road and Ridge Avenue.

Tom wrote:
If you know what these are, you’re old as shit! (a photo of paper caps for cap guns back in the day, GVB).

Steve wrote:
Caps for my old as shit cap gun.

Jack wrote:
I am actually 10 years older than shit and 15 older than dirt!

Wally wrote:
We had a great turn out on Saturday September 10th at Flat Rock Park in Gladwyne, Pa. I think about 18 of our group showed up. Thanks to Marisa Price-Shiffler, Joe Ritchie and Andy Conicello for all the stuff they do to get us together. It was a little hot but sitting in the shade under the trees and next to the river talking to old friends and old times from when we were all young was pretty cool. Sorry I didn’t take any pictures. I think the next time we get together it will be a little cooler and probably at Franklins’ (The Old Italian Club). Let’s try to have a better showing next time, we have 310 people in our group I think we can do better.

Jack wrote:
was just Thinking. The reason most of us kids were always smiling while our Hearts were Young included all the things the Project offered such as, baseball games all summer long at the field, half ball, wall ball, dancing to Doo Wop music, playing tag in the school yard, all our friends, first girlfriend, first car, Gustine lake, (we liked climbing the fence after hours and swam until the Fairmount Police Guard chased us out), and so much more. Thanks Mr. & Mrs Project for helping to keep me feeling Young.

Beverly wrote:
We climbed the fence many times and were chased out many times ha ha a-lot of good people came from project feel sorry for those who didn’t live there…

Jack wrote:
4555 Merrick Road I remember it as our Brand New Home in the early 50’s We had a Black-Top-Area next to us that was so special to me because one of the Fun things was learning to jump over not only the Flat Benches but also the upright ones. It was 1956 and the Fun was just starting.

Mary wrote:
4424 Merrick rd left 1964 ..but loved growing up near the woods. river and creek so much fun…

Tom wrote:
Here’s another reason the Project was so special. Yesterday my wife and I celebrated our 55 wedding anniversary. Thanks to living in the Project. 1955-1963. We starting dating in 61 and married at St.Bridget’s in 63. Surely, the Best of Times.

Tom wrote:
Our first home at 4555 Merrick Rd. was red, when we moved to 4313 Ridge Ave it was yellow. Pictured before the 61 bus. I always thought they were so cool as I did about everything in the Project. Happy Times…

Dennis wrote:
When I hear black and gifted, I can’t listen anymore. What’s wrong with saying he is gifted! Which he is!!(Young, Gifted, and Black – Nina Simone, GVB).

Tom posted:
A photo of a five pound package of “Processed Cheese, Welfare Cheese.” It’s dated 1954…”The United States Department of Agriculture, A Section 32 Commodity for Distribution to School Lunch Programs and other Eligible Outlets, not to be sold or exchanged.”

Marie wrote:
Wally I was from “Abbottsford” (projects on Henry Ave. and Fox Streets, GVB). But I enjoy all your stories because we had the same ones…

Wally wrote:
Hi Marie, yea our neighborhoods were similar. We always got into a fight with some guys from Abbottsford when we would go there to visit friend a girl named Betty Leddy and her sister Anna Marie.

Jack wrote:
I remember roller skating for hours on that black top next to the house, until Dad made me a wooden scooter, using my metal skates a two by four and of course a wooden milk crate with wooden handles. It didn’t take long to find out that almost everyone had one of the scooters. Sometimes all of us would line up at the top of Merrick Rd. and after lots of practice end up at Ridge Ave. The sound made from all of those scooters was so loud I bet they could hear them at Ridge & Midvale. Kids having Fun.

Kevin wrote:
Had my first concussion at the age of 5(?) from the Cresswell Street merry-go-round. Was doing a look ma, no hands and went flying. Carried up to our 4th floor apt by the Abbotts milk man. Hear his nice white uniform was covered with my blood.

Jack wrote:
That entire black top area of the Cresswell Apartments provided many hours of just having fun. One day the Guys tied me to that merry-go-round and spun me for what seemed hours. I was pretty sick by the end of that ride. Kids just having Fun.

Jack wrote:
By 1956 Rock and Roll Music entered the scene as I remember with Bill Haley & the Comets song Rock Around the Clock. Elvis,Chuck Berry, and all those other Great Doo Wop Groups were soon to follow. To me the next step was watching American Bandstand to learn how to dance. After lots of practice I finally got the guts to Dance at the Famous Friday Night Dance at the Rec. And I still dance every chance I get. Thanks to those days as a kid in the Project. Hey Marian Stringfellow if you read this besides yourself who were other girls from our times that also danced.
Memories of the Project for me began in 1956 mostly because it was the start of meeting new friends. Many of those relationships lasted until 1963 the year I got married and moved. But much of what I am today was forged during those early years. I say that because last January I celebrated my 71 Birthday and to this day some of my fondest memories are about all my friends, all the good times, my love for Doo Wop Music, Dancing, Sports, those Fabulous Cars of the Fifties, and most of all Mom and Dad.
St. Bridgets was my first school and then I transferred to school in the Project and I do remember George as one of the Guys.
Thinking of you Dee Sizer as I remember some of the memories of the Schuylkill Falls Housing Project. 1956 was a very good year I was 11years old and it was one year since Mom and Dad moved us to the Project. I had no idea just how wonderful this place really was. Besides living in a brand new development that never looked like most other Housing Project in Philadelphia I know most of folks living their appreciated having and opportunity to rise (raise, GVB) their children in a safe environment that offered lots of ways to meet new friends.More to come.
Hi Marian Stringfellow glad you liked some of my memories of the Good Old Project. What are some of your fond memories??
Memories of growing up in the Project keeps me young. Snow storms of the fifties never bother me but then again nothing bothers the Young. As an example watching snow fall against the back drop of the apartment buildings to me was beautiful. Sledding down Merrick Road and the hills around the baseball field kept us kids busy for hours. Just another reason why growing up in the Project was so Special.

Bob wrote:
Hears (here’s, GVB) a long shot ??? The miller’s and our cousins the grabber’s lived on Merrick rd. As you walked up the steps the first house on the left two girls l lived there . Does anyone remember their names.

Jack #2 wrote:
It really turned out to have been a great place to grow up….we moved in around the same time. I was 7 and my sister would have been about 5…I lived there until I was around 20-21…made some great friends and have some forever memories!

Janet #2 wrote:
All the kids sled down the hills of the baseball field. If we didn’t have a sled we used cardboard. We certainly had a lot of hills in East Falls.

Janet wrote:
I miss them days growing up in the projects! Remember sledding down the hills on cardboard!

Tom wrote:
On this cold and snowy winter night I was thinking about summer in the project . so which did like better , water ice or snowballs ? raise your hand if you know the difference.

Joan wrote:
Water ice and pretzel with mustard is one of my favorite things.

Cecelia wrote:
Tom where did pork and sauerkraut on New Year’s Day. I alwaysthought it was Irish, but I had a German great-grandmother, and she made it I have friends whose backgrounds were Eastern Europe and they. Had it. If you could find out and post it. Gratitude is yours.

Janet wrote:
I’am German and we always had Pork and Sauerkraut on New Years Day!

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…The Black Side Experience(s) The Sixties and Beyond:
“The Earlham / Creswell Buildings and Low Rises!”

Michele wrote:

“On the side of my old house 3708 Winona St. There was a fireplug on the side. (Jr.,) Bernadette Patterson’s brother use to get the wrench turn the plug on, everybody and they mother got wet, and if you did’nt get wet you got dunked or splashed with a bucket of water. Don’t get your hair done?? Boy I miss those days. As a child on the backtrail, I use to always look through that gate where the tracks were and knew their were houses over there. But always wanted to know what was over there that was different from over here, I found out. RACISM!”

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Hakim wrote:
“If you are looking for a DJ for your event make sure you call me Dj_Yahmeen267(Hakim). I am affordable, reliable and I have all of my own equipment. I also offer photography if you should happen to need it for your event. I guarantee this will be the best call you have made!”

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Robert wrote:
“4317 Merrick Rd, that’s when they had aluminum and plastic windows with closet between the kitchen and the living rooms!”

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Orlando wrote:
“I remember my mom and my uncle James use to whip us for sneaking down there and when I was 5 years old I almost drowned in the (Gustine) pool!”

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Deborah wrote:
“My mother Mrs.Leah Palmer lived 4579 Merrick Road.She lived up there for 35years!”

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Alan wrote:
“I can remember the summers when school was out running down School House Lane barefoot in the late morning/early afternoon after playing back the woods and in the sand pile for a while. Covered in grey dust from the sand pile we would get to Gustine and unwillingly run through the sprinkler and straight into the deep end. After swimming and playing in the water until we were all wrinkled up, we would get out of the pool and lay out on the black top in the parking lot to dry off and warm up. If I had a quarter, I might buy a box of pretzels and soak them down with mustard from the concession window, but usually we would go up to Duchess for a pile of candy. Other times if the weather wasn’t that hot we would have to go into the locker room, get a basket and change, making sure that we didn’t lose the stretch ankle tag in the pool. Wanna really go back? Do you remember the cave before the sand pile? Cline Thornton? Old man Higgins house burning down before they built the Gypsy Lane Condos? ~ Third floor Creswell Bldg. 1964…”

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Lavount wrote:
“I never got used to walking up that Hill so I took the back steps or the bridge!”

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Jackie wrote:
“Boy do I remember sliding under the bridge on that cobblestone we had so much fun!”

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Michele wrote:
“I remember Halloween in the projects, we never trick or treated in the projects, we would go up School House Lane where all the rich white people were, we would come back with shopping bags full of candy, sodas, fruit, money. And before we could eat any of it my mom had to check it cause they were putting razors and straight pins in the candy. Thank God we never ran across none. Those were the good ole days!”

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Ben wrote:
“In East Falls my bedroom faced the City line area.”

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Robin wrote:
“THE FAMILY Lived AT 4521 MERRICK RD I had a great time Growing up in East Falls!”

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Karen wrote:
“At 4563 Arnold St lived next door to the Holidays and across from the Massey’s and the Henderson and around the corner was the West house old my name is “Winky” and I have a brother “Footie” and 2 sister “Val” and “Debbie!”

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Michelle wrote:
“Does anybody remember the family who had newsstand, water ice and fresh fruit stand on Ridge Ave? family told all the kids to Dorney park all on the bus for free? They use holler on Sunday “Got Sunday inquire newspaper fifty cent Six am in morning in both high rise building? You have be original East falls to remember this family! 1966- 1978!”

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Desiree wrote:
“I remember Sam’s. I grew up in the East Falls projects in the late 50’s – late 60″s looking to connect to people who was there during this time frame…” Karen: “The Johnson’s I believe.”
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Ben wrote:
“We played war games on the Sand Pile in the woods.”

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Terence wrote:
“Yes it was sand and could have shifted at any time and buried someone at any time…..but God allowed us to survive!”

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Martha wrote:
“Does anyone remember what the heck was the East Falls vs Abbottsford fights were for ? Hell we had to fight the whites just to get to school and we all lived in the projects!”

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Ben wrote:
“I remember rushing home because 5th district was pursuing East Falls students!”

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Ben wrote:
“Bob Johnson allowed us to have an art program at Gustine Lake Recreation Center.We got a grant from a black lady on city council – former president of Schuylkill Falls Youth Council.”

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Gus wrote:

“Recreational Marijuana Legalization”

“Several decades ago I was the 14th Private US Citizen (Non-entity) person to receive a US Justice Department Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) Researcher Registrant Certificate. In part, we (me and employees) performed canine training including and not limited to narcotics detection training, a diverse range of research services, contracted security, high value (money and jewelry) transport and oversight, Department Store(s) Contracted Loss Prevention Services and after business hours security, product sales and volunteer services objectives including and not limited to volunteer K-9 Search and Rescue registered with the Pennsylvania State Police at Troop K. We also performed volunteer services in New Jersey and we supported community events, including and not limited to safety events. Parallel our business operations with on average 42 mostly full time employees; I was full time employed in Pharmaceutical Plant Engineering Departments in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and Montgomery County, Pennsylvania. I am not a pharmaceutical industry proponent. I am a community proponent. I also engaged business research in other nation states.
I perceive a valid enhanced prescription controlled medical marijuana consumption which prevents abuse and diversion by the prescriber, the consumer, the producer – distributor, transporters and the dispensers. I do not perceive a valid recreational marijuana consumption and I view the later as individually and community collective destructive. We posted a Researcher Registrant Certificate image with redactions as a copy and fraud protection.

While the DEA Researcher Certificate notes one of our former corporate business names with my full name as corporation president, at the time of issuance, the DEA advised me that the Researcher Registrant Certificate is solely in my full name and my full responsibility. The DEA Researcher Certificate image is presented as a historic document support for this current subject matter. The Researcher Certificate is not current.

I recently attended a community meeting in Delaware where in part, support for legalized recreational marijuana consumption was presented. In my opinion, the sum of the meeting, which was similar to what I have observed in other forums, presented justification for legal marijuana consumption through likely unintended misinformation, absent information and a physical opportunistic tease for those people in political power to control the upward flow of marijuana consumer money as a gainful means to more exclusive power and the power to distribute revenue as personal political employment longevity beneficial.
I observed vague (at best) discussion regarding the parallel consequences of marijuana consumption including and not limited to persons conduct (self-discipline) while being under the influence of marijuana, no discussion about the parallel money through fines and prison generated through persons being under the influence, no discussion and no address pertaining to elevated exposure to human disenfranchisement and profoundly, no discussion pertaining to the historic and current common practice of blending marijuana with other narcotics and the continuous, persistent pursuit of marijuana consumer and marijuana producers enhancement of marijuana borne THC through hydroponics and other THC enhancement models, long practiced in USA and other nation states.

The intended purpose of any recreational marijuana consumer; admitted or not admitted, is to become under the influence of tetrahydrocannabinol (THC). Without marijuana borne THC, marijuana would be in about as much of a public demand as the weeds in my grass at my Hockessin residence. At the recent marijuana subject meeting in Delaware, I do not recall hearing or otherwise observing the term THC presented even once. THC is treated as the open marijuana secret that if kept secret, favorable legal recreational marijuana consumption access odds rise.
Marijuana blending and specialized marijuana growing processes are designed and specifically intended to exponentially increase marijuana THC potency and the resulting personal narcotic state of being (high).
My experiences both in USA and in other nation states suggest to me that marijuana would absolutely not be consumed if it did not contain the psychotropic chemical component known as THC.

Marijuana blending has been common practice for decades. My first observations of marijuana blending was with hashish intended by the consumer to substantially boost THC narcotic high. Blending marijuana with cocaine, marijuana and crack (cocaine), marijuana with PCP, etc is a popular practice, yet I have not observed blending as any part of the recreational marijuana legalization debate. I was recently (year 2018) in a Pennsylvania Court Room when a person was convicted of operating a vehicle under the influence. Initially, I believed that the Pennsylvania defendant was under the influence of pain medication when she was stopped by police. Subsequently, I learned that the Pennsylvania defendant was under the influence of marijuana blended with embalming fluid. And in a publisized case with trajic consequences for many people including the recreational marijuana-blending consumer; a former famous professional football player who died in prison with a child now without a father and a 40 million dollar contract gone to waste, is reported to have regularly blended marijuana and PCP in addition to reportedly having sustained brain injury through repetitive physical impacts (Reference, http://profootballtalk.nbcsports.com/2016/01/15/cris-carter-specula…). And reference, “killer joints” marijuana blended with PCP (www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3042768/Aaron-Hernandez-Prisoner-W…).
Further, marijuana and embalming fluid blend often referenced as “wet” is common practice. It is increasing difficult to park on certain city streets, much less attend events including movie theaters, where the powerful skunk similar odor of “wet” is not a deterrent for the marijuana consumer. I have also recognized the powerful stench of “wet” in Hockessin, a suburban town. Embalming fluid contains some chemicals widely documented as cancer causing agents. I recently observed a loud street argument where people were complaining that someone cheated them by selling hemp for the same price as marijuana and costing the complaining parties more than twice as much money to get half as high (hemp does not contain as much THC for the equivalent weight of marijuana although the plants are in the same family). Through business objectives that I did not described herein; I found that access to embalming fluid has efficiency evolved since the time periods where we had contracts which included cemetery locations.

In summary, discussions and voting pertaining the legalization of recreational marijuana consumption must evolve with the marijuana consuming demand; not lag behind it or fail to acknowledge the evolution presented through the reality of the continuous pursuit of chemical (artificial) high second to the devastating individual and community collective consequences. The support for recreational marijuana consumption at the expense of the obvious consequences and at the expense of the not so obvious back-door consequences should not lean into or transgress through popular symbolism for votes.
I pray that we do not allow ourselves to be fairy-tale mislead into expanded inequality and human disenfranchisement through the broad consequences, including employment consequences of recreational marijuana consumption. Our attention can progress individual and collective communities if we effort to produce a broad spectrum human equity where everyone can have an opportunity to afford education, skill training, quality health and the pursuit of chemical free happiness.
Thank you for objectively considering my experiences formed opinion.

The above content was submitted by email to Delaware State Representative and the Delaware State Senate through their respective political leadership- relevant committee positions.

On 19 March 2018 Monday, I created and submitted for news paper publishing (delawareonline.com – aka, The News Journal); the following comment pertaining to a news article on the subject of Legalized Recreational Marijuana in the State of Delaware.

In my opinion, some commenter information on this marijuana subject is a mixture of accurate information and critically important inaccurate misunderstanding of fact at best. Marijuana is just a weed. Marijuana consumers use marijuana with the intention of becoming under the influence of the marijuana borne psychotropic chemical known as THC. THC potency is under constant enhancement effort and different forms of THC enhanced marijuana including and not limited to different forms of hydroponic marijuana which uses less utilities than some other marijuana growing techniques is popular along with the common practice of blending marijuana with other narcotics and chemicals. I sent a letter with experiences on this subject that included a redacted copy of my former DEA Researcher Certificate to at least two Delaware Democrats and at least two Delaware Republicans on this subject and I am not surprised that they are still supporting recreational marijuana in some cases and slightly supporting recreational marijuana through this individually and community collective destructive legislation. The letter that I sent to these politicians is on my Facebook Page notes and is public. Money, tax revenue, could be being used, if not exploited through this subject as a bait and switch and slightly veiled political employment longevity enhancement in my opinion. I encountered a person in a different nation state who was acting harm in my opinion and when I appeared to be surprised, she told me “it’s just business.” It is not just business. This recreational marijuana subject is not just business either except perhaps to a favor of individual narcissism. There are many back-doors into human disenfranchisement through legalized recreational marijuana and I believe that these politicians are so aware or they should be while sitting on such a committee. On 04 April 2018 a person will be sentenced (different state) for DUI of marijuana blended with embalming fluid and there are more common marijuana blends. What we are getting from some of our politicians is disservice and wasting time. Legislative Hall could otherwise be dedicated to enhancing public safety, not creating public hazard. Dover could be making effort toward collective economic upgrade of all people through efforts to unite people rather than maintain large segments of the public on a chemically induced state of being high and vulnerable to employment disfranchisement and disenfranchisement through the criminal justice and civil justice institutions. While Delaware has some life quality community collective dedicated politicians; this recreational marijuana debate demonstrates something about the politicians who we elect into positions of power.”

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Ben wrote:
“Who remembers the Schuylkill Falls Youth Council?”

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Infitain wrote:
“Some of us are Teachers without taking the Job, some of us take up the Mantle of Security without having a badge, Psychologist without the tittle or degree, Dont worry about the Label or cosign, just DO YOUR JOB.”

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Martha wrote:
“What ever happened to Gustine Lake?”

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Kenneth wrote:
“They turned it into ‘The Author Ash’ tennis court.”

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Michele wrote:
“Candy and her brother Danny had the best house parties – Arnold St.”

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Kabir Abu wrote:
“Under construction is the Schuylkill Falls development, a modern piece of architecture. The photograph looks west with the presidential apartments in the background. April 20th 1954.”

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Princess wrote:
“4552 MERRICK Rd 19129 (Mrs.Octavia’s)!”

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Ben wrote:
“Years ago as a young buck I was told I had to go through the “ROO”,And become a member of Grey Top…The Kangeroo Court was right in front of our crib in the playground.”

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Martha wrote:
“Hey East Falls Family since a lot of us are reconnecting and we’re all grown now, some features have changed over the years and our memories of childhood friends are lingering so let’s do a Then and Now Photo because I may see you and never know who you are today. I’ll start with this…”

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Michele wrote:
“I used to take the backtrail to Carmella’s store or walk over the bridge to get down the hill to get to Ridge Ave.”

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Millie wrte:
“4555 Merrick Road (CARTER)!”

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Skip Gibson wrote:
“Yo homie! Yo, I Bet u never thought u would hear from me… “Big Skip” even though you probably hate my guts!”

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Tillik Brock wrote:
“3743 Winona St That Be Me! La Familia, This Thing Of Ours EFF4L!”

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Michele wrote:
“I remember when they closed the Earlham bldg. how we use to squeeze through the bars to go in units that were still open with gas and heat on, we use to melt crayons on the cast iron radiators when we were kids.”

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Michelle wrote:
“All Praise to GOD! I am so proud of my daughter Asia who will be first Black women firefighters Paramedics in the Special Operation Company. Taking her final test in swimming. I remember when couldn’t get Asia in the water. Now she swimming in 17 feet.When you plant a seed and fertilizer it with GOD you will grow out of your fears and become a winner. I love you Asia! Mom.”

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Martha wrote:
“How many of you went to Mifflin and Roxborough High?”

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Sylvia wrote:
“Yes me and my family lived in 4430 Merrick road 10 years ago and I miss it and I’m going back!”

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Michelle wrote:
“You like living in poverty level income? I was glad to move out but sad leave my friend. My family was moving on up in income. Did not need government assistance anymore. Praise GOD for the blessings then and now.”

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Stella wrote:
“4369 Creswell St.. Sooo many memories…!”
“Hi! You must’ve moved in after we moved! You lived next to my Family Beatrice and Melissa Temple?”

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Melvin wrote:
“I know a lot of people in East Falls made a lot of beautiful friends and still keep in touch where I moved at now app might know five or six people and I’ve been here 19 years.”

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Hakim wrote:
“Y’all remember the horrible crash that happened at the bottom of the hill?”

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Shawn wrote:
“I wasn’t there but I know all about it bow was my best friend!”

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Stella wrote:
“When the boy died and Quinton’s brother was paralyzed? God bless the living and rest the souls of the dead…”

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Michele wrote:
“I went to East Falls Elementary and Dobson Middle School in Manayunk, than Wagner Jr. High, and graduated from Olney High. Class of 1985.”

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Tanya wrote:
“My children went to Cook-Wisahickon!”

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Marsha wrote:

‘The true story!’

“A girl was living with her uncle because her parents died of HIV. She was the only child of her mother’s belly. She was educated by her uncle from kindergarten to class 4 and when the girl was in class 4, her uncle saw that the girl was beautiful. One night, he went to the girl’s room and told her that if she didn’t play with him, he would take her away from home and stop paying her tuition fees. The girl tried to cry for her uncle, but he refused to understand. The young girl agreed to leave her uncle’s place and went to the street suffering, while crying, being hungry, lonely and the last option she had was to get on her knees and pray to God until What God answers to prayer. A woman came by car and saw the young girl pray. She stopped and asked the girl to get in the car. She took the girl and brought her back to school, she bought it all for her as a girl. The girl has completed her studies and, as we speak, she completed her university studies and worked at the world bank. Even you, God can answer your prayers.
I will vote for someone who reads this testimony, because you share this message in 5 different facebook groups, you will never miss tears and excuses this year!
Don’t be heart-free to type “Amen”

17-Year-old girls received a message on “whatsapp” and she didn’t even read the full message. They simply deleted it because she was talking about Jesus. In the message that Jesus said to her, his daughter sends this message because she speaks. Tomorrow may be too late. . The girl with irony laughed and said “what a lie” the next day, she was dead, but before she died, she left a word saying. Never ignore God, for he may not have written it, but he is the one who asked you to test it. . If you love God, type amen and send this message to 5 public groups now… you are on the account! In 30 minutes, something is going to make you happy. Everything in life is detail.”

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David wrote:
“Growing up in East Falls when those things that was done in the dark, and stayed in the dark, before it was okay to sell drugs openly, women to be with women, men to be with men!”

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Traci Parnell-Redding wrote:
“My family lived in EF from 1966 to 1974, so I remember starting school. I thought East Falls Elementary was the BEST! I can remember all my teachers!

See how many you remember!

Kindergarten- Ms. Parleigh who would yank the boys by the ears, and had fruit flavored paddles.
1st Grade – Mrs. Blatch
2nd Grade – Mrs. Savitts who didn’t like to wear underwear.
3rd Grade – Mrs. Deahl.
4th Grade – Ms. Weiner the best dressed teacher.
5th Grade – Fiiinne Mr. Edward’s, with the green eyes, who loved Tastykake Lemon Pie.
6th Grade – Mrs. Marlene Kelly Capers who insisted on us practicing to speak with good diction.

And let me not forget our music teacher, Mrs. Cumbo! She took us to see Scrooge (1970 version) and Sounder and she taught us Young Gifted and Black for our 6th grade graduation ???.

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Desiree wrote:
“Who remembers the Rec center in the projects, down by East Falls elementary School? we used to go there for dances…this was in the early 60’s.”

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Michelle wrote:
“When we need a oil change for the car every 1,000 mile so it can run smoothly. We read in the Bible one day is 1,000 year for GOD. So we needs GOD today to cleanse us from all unwanted thing from yesterday. Ours clean spirit is important to him. Take the chance today and get yourself cleaned by God. Amen”

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Desiree wrote:
“I am glad to join this group, never forget where you came from, East Falls Elementary School, Thomas Mifflin Jr. High and Roxborough High class of 1968.”

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Connell wrote:
“The projects I remember when me and kevin, now my husband; how we went around in ject loving each other outside everywhere wish I could turn back the hands of time I miss you baby peace.”

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David wrote:
“Remember when me you and my brothers would rock cars, or when we would come over each others houses in the morning when we didn’t have school, and all the other things we did as kids?”

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Geneva wrote:
“Hoping you all have a wonderful time at the reunion this year. Unfortunately I’ll be recovering from surgery which is this Friday. Keep me in y’all prayers. Much love for my East Falls Family.”

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I’ve decided to end the listing(s) here:
You, the reader can visit these folks on their “Facebook Network,” titled:
“The East Falls Projects Stories,” albeit, a closed group…
https://www.facebook.com/groups/eastfalls/?multi_permalinks=2405731…
…and
“The Earlham / Creswell Buildings and Low Rises!”
https://www.facebook.com/groups/220524413479/

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By this time, the entire area was shut-down! The “East Falls Projects” was totally surrounded from top to bottom, front to back along the “Calumet Street” side, the “School House Lane” side, the “Raven-Hill” side, and of course all up and down the “Ridge!”

Salestian was happy to have caught a fresh story and completing it before leaving the area. He’d gotten this story onto the servers as fast as we could speak on it. The shooting began again. The cops were shooting up to the eleventh-floor window while Richard shot down onto them and the automobiles as well. The “Hostage Negotiators” weren’t doing a damned thing until the barrage of media showed on the scene.

“I thank God for these cops,” one woman said as she was being interviewed by one of the reporters from the area network television stations. “Officers are attempting to communicate with the shooter; imploring him to surrender and avoid further injuries. Sources tell CBTV3 that the scene was sheer chaos as officers were taking fire. Video from Chopper 3 shows officers with guns drawn at the scene. “You can hear multiple gun shots!” One reporter said while interviewing and filming the residents and officers on the chaotic scene.

CBTV3 Cameras Capture Volleys Of Gunfire Erupting After 6 Philly Police Where Officers Shot In East Falls!

BREAKING: “We just arrived to Temple University Hospital where multiple officers were transported after being shot in North Philadelphia. It is a very active scene here and we’re working to determine the condition of the officers. At least 5 officers injured!”

The Mayor of Philadelphia, Gwendolyn Finkles said, “The officers were “Brave” and that they needed help with gun control to keep weapons out of criminals’ hands. “Our officers don’t deserve to be shot at for hours and hours on our Philly streets.”

The area transportation, mainly the routes “R,” “61,” “The Casino Bus,” and “Shoppers Special” were detoured or shut down all together. The only way around the scene was “East River Drive” (Kelly Drive) and “Henry Avenue” by way of “Midvale Avenue.” Another television and radio reported:

“Lockdown remains in effect on the Health Sciences Center campus on Henry Avenue, the old Woman’s Medical Site. Shots continue to be fired in the area. Stay indoors away from all windows. We will keep sending regular updates. The Main Campus is not immediately impacted.” Several blocks around the scene have been cordoned off. Most of North Philadelphia’s East Falls area is in gridlock due to the police presence. The scene of the shooting is right down the street from Gustine Lakes. It is a very active scene here and we’re working to determine the condition of all the officers involved. At least 5 officers injured.” @MSCBSPhilly

“Sources tell CBTV3 that the scene was sheer chaos as officers were taking fire. Video from Chopper 3 shows officers with guns drawn at the scene. You can hear multiple gun shots during the shooting scene.”

“Officers are attempting to communicate with the shooter; imploring him to surrender and avoid further injuries. “We have gone from a hostage situation to a barricade,” Philadelphia Police Commissioner Roger Tanex said. “At least six Philadelphia police officers were shot during a gun battle in Philadelphia’s East Falls boardering the “Manayunk” and “Roxborough” sections and rushed to the hospital on Friday afternoon,” authorities say. “Two officers and three others who were trapped inside the home with the shooter are contuing to fight for their very lives as their brothers and sisters in arms, continue keeping pressure on the shooter.”

Captain Willis Samuel and his Sergeant, Warren Jenkins were nowhere to be seen when the commissioner asked for them. They had already gone to the top floor of the building…the 12th floor. When the shooting stopped, the two quietly eased their way into the corridor of the shooting scene. The door was still closed. They could hear the shooter shouting out of the window down to the negotiating officers. He talked of not being responsible for all that has occurred. He blamed the brother-in-law and the interfering cops. He was responding to the negotiators.

The Swat Team had already set up the spying apparatus for peering inside of designated compromised areas or “Hot LZ’s” The snake-like wire was placed under the door of the apartment. It showed the four officers ducking behind an overturned table, while the two that were shot, lay on the floor. They were bleeding pretty badly. They had to get medical attention asap, or they were surely dead.

One of the Swat Officers loaded a C-4 Plastic Pack in the inside and outside groove of the apartment door. The shooter was still paying attention to the negotiators and not to the officers trapped inside. The Swat-Cop lit the wick of the plastic…stood back and grabbed his weapon. The ear-piercing, ear-drum exploding blast boomed with a thunderous bloom…the door went flat and the team rushed inside the apartment. The first thing they did was to rush inside and get the bedroom door closed. They didn’t give a damn about the shooter…they only wanted to get the trapped officers out. They hit the man’s bedroom with teargas and fired shots in and all around that room. The shooter was not hit. He merely cursed aloud and fired back into the closed bedroom door.

They succeeded in getting the cops out. The four were able to get out on their own while the two that were wounded were dragged and then carried out by the rescuing cops. Warren and Samuel rushed into the smoke filled room and attempted to get the shooter out before he was killed. Willis thought about the many times Black Men have been killed by police and not given the chance to surrender. The two brave officers fought through the fog and managed to kick open the door, allowing fresh air to seep into the room. Richard was crying and sobbing…he was praying to God for help and forgiveness. We could hear him plainly praying, “Please O Dear God, please allow Me to get out of this mess that was not my causing…yea, I’m guilty as all hell in shooting them fellas, but I didn’t mean it, I really didn’t!”
I shouted to him from the other room, “Yo Rich, common out man, no one’s going to hurt you! I promise…”

“Oh yeah, y’all are going to kill me just as soon as I come out there! I’m no fool!”

The negotiators shouted loudly through their bullhorns…”Richard, we’ve got the injured officers out…you can put down your weapon and surrender peacefully.” The “war-Zone” intensified as opposed to decelerating. The cops, the hierarchy, truly wanted him dead. Willis intended to do every thing in his power to not let that happen. He knew what the brass wanted…they wanted this crazy, bold, and guilty nigger to be shot all to hell and handed over in a “body-bag!”

Tanex said that the two officers and four others inside the home took fire during the incident. Another officer injured in a car crash on the way to the scene, had to be hospitalized and is in stable condition after the accident. Sources tell CBTV3, the suspect was live-streaming some of the shootout while he barricaded himself inside the apartment building. If he wanted to stay in that room, he very well could have, and the cops would have one hell of a time in getting him out…outside of loading that particular apartment with all kinds of explosives while he, being able to pick off any if not all of the cops on the ground with his highly powered military styled automatic rifle.

Tanex said it was short of a miracle that no officers were killed. “It’s nothing short of a miracle that we don’t have multiple officers killed here today,” the police commissioner said.

While the swat team evacuated the injured and trapped officers, Willis and Warren somehow, got Richard to surrender to them. No one wsa aware of this situation until one of the cops under the building heard the motor of the elevator. She knew full well that no one was supposed to be on it, she cocked her weapon and aimed at the vessels door. As the elevator door slowly opened, the officer began to squeeze on the trigger of her gun. The door completed its opening and to her immediate surprise, out walked Captain Samuel and Sergeant Jenkins. They both of them stepped out of the descended lift car with the suspect in handcuffs. They never fired a shot and brought the suspect down to face justice.
The commissioner scowled as did many of the pool of white officers who wanted vengeance on the shooter. The two cops that took on fire and a couple of slugs, happened to be caucasian. Richard is Black and guilty as charged, according to nearly every cop, witness, and reporter on the scene. Justice must be served…he is supposed to be dead!

CBTV3, as did the other news hawks, and television stations all reported: “All six officers wounded in the shooting have been released and in the hospital. Another officer injured in a car crash on the way to the scene also remains hospitalized.”

While walking the suspect to the waiting transportation van, they had to walk through the sea of angry white; and those who followed suit whether they were white or not – they were the ones who usually went along with the white partner…whatever he or she did was not to be seen or disagreed with. They simply looked the other way and/or nodded in submission and compliance. The captain and the sergeant lead their suspect to the waiting van. The air was full of smoke, noise, hatred, and sinister fury. They kept walking…knowing they had placed themselves in harms way by protecting this man.
Someone loudly and abruptly shouted from within the middle of the fully packed crowd of police and bystanders. A shot rang out, the two cops jumped on their captive, keeping him from harm. The parking lot of the Earlham Building was swarming with running people and cops. The police began to gather many of the young Black youth who happened to be on the scene. Another shot rang out. The captain was hit in the upper back of the left shoulder. They, Willis and Jenkins managed to get the suspect safely into the back of the waiting van just before the captain went down.

The wildly belligerent cops pulled their weapons and began firing at the building into any and all of the apartments. The area was enthralled in a mad frenzy of oozing and slimmy chaos. They were shooting in an uncontrolled frenzy of madness before the commanders got them under control. The sergeant managed to get his captain into his car. He then cautioned subordinates about their actions and ordered them to immediately stand down. They all complied. But then, another shot rang out from above…from the upper floors of the shot-up building…Sergeant Warren Jenkins was hit squarely on the left side of his head. The entire side of his head had been blown clear off, revealing all of what existed under the skin…the underneath became exposed for all to see. The sergeant remained standing. He stood erect, totally still and not breathing…breating as we know it.
He then bent down and made sure his captain was lying safely in the car’s back seat. He intended to get his captain to the hospital as fast as he could, and let no man try and stop him…no one dared. He drove the car at break-neck speed. The nearest hospital was “Roxborough Memorial” on Ridge Avenue…the hospital that used to be close at hand was the Women’s Medical on Henry Avenue. It had been long ago closed to the public and the needs of the public for monetary gain.
The sergeant drove the roaring automobile with the blaring siren and flasing lights into the emergency entrance of the hospital. The staff came to help just as he was pulling the captain from the rear of the unmarked police cruiser. He lifted the captain’s large frame from the car onto a waiting hospital gurney with no effort at all. The emergency room staff could not believe what they were seeing…this tall thinly framed individual picking up the larger man so easily. Before they began to roll the fully conscious captain into the emergency ward, they all gasped as all looked upon the exposed head and face of the loyal and trusted sergeant. His skin was all burned away and melted from the underlying metal and gears. The captain couldn’t believe what he was seeing, forgetting that he was shot and bleeding, blurted out, “Damn…Jenkins, I didn’t know…I didn’t know that you are a god-damned robot!”

The sergeant didn’t reply. He turned and started for the door. He stopped and turned back to look at his captain, his friend and said, “Before you dismiss me from the job, I have the one thing that can identify the shooter who shot you. I have the bullet.” He reached into his metallic mouth, reaching down into his lower jaw area, on the left, and came out with the slug that tore off his face. He handed the pristine bullet to the captain. “You can identify the shooter who shot you with this projectile…I’ll be on my way now…be well Willis.” Warren turned once again to leave. The captain looked at the attending doctor who wanted to rush him into surgery. He returned the gaze. The doctor said to the sergeant, “You’d better stay and let me check you out. Just give me a hand in getting this man into the examination room so that I can locate the bullet that’s still in his back. Then I’ll take care of you.”

The captain waved for him to come back and stay with him, to help him and keep him safe. “Sergeant, if they made one attempt, they’ll make another knowing they missed…not succeeding in eliminating the target. You know like I know, this was an inside job.”

Ricardo “Lil Ricky” Paniero, the “West Philly Capo, Button/Hit Man,” was talking on his cell phone while walking to his car…away from the hospital on Ridge Avenue.

Til Next Time…

“G”

Next, Chapter 10: “Payback Can Be A Bitch”

“FAIRMOUNT”…Terror In The Park”
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B076G976LX/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch…

“SHAMAN”
http://shamanretold.blogspot.com/

~”FAIRMOUNT” – The Series: Pt. 1 ‘Strawberry Mansion’~
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/01/15/fairmount-the-series-p…

“Willis Samuel Investigaations”
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=%E2%80%…(Pt.+7)+~+%E2%80%9CLoose+Ends!%E2%80%9D+~

http://hbcu.com/cgi-bin/search.cgi?processSearch=1&keywords=wil…

*/

>

~ “Three Laws Safe” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2019/01/31/three-laws-safe/
http://hbcu.com/content/340536/three-laws-safe

‘The Platforms of “Boulware Publications, Data Information, and Entertainment Enterprises”
~BoulwareEnterprises~
http://www.BoulwareEnterprises.com
https://about.me/gregory_boulware

“Article Posting Sites”
https://www.blogger.com/profile/10910946197037982583
https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/
http://www.linkedin.com/pub/gregory-boulware/10/435/44b
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7237172.Gregory_V_Boulware
http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profile/GregoryVBoulware
https://literarygreg10xsmenow.tumblr.com/
https://about.me/gregory_boulware
http://www.pinterest.com/writerauthor6bk/pins/
http://www.bookcrossing.com/mybookshelf/GVBoulware/all
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100009002895659
http://ezinearticles.com/?expert_bio=Gregory_V._Boulware

~The Connect Platform~
http://hbcu.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
http://blackwomenconnect.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
http://blackinamerica.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
http://chocolatepagesnetwork.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=64…

“Amazon”
http://www.amazon.com/Gregory-V.-Boulware/e/B00OI16PDI/ref=ntt_dp_e…
http://www.authorsden.com/gregoryvboulware

And

“Twitter”
https://twitter.com/AuthorBoulwareG
https://twitter.com/hashtag/BoulwareBooks?src=hash
https://twitter.com/AuthorBoulwareG/status/541394366842281984
https://independent.academia.edu/GregoryVBoulware
https://www.authorsden.com/visit/author.asp?id=168361

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

>

…For Your Edification:

All Ten Chapters of “FAIRMOUNT” The Series:

~“FAIRMOUNT” – The Series~
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com

Pt. 1: ‘Strawberry Mansion’
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/01/15/fairmount-the-series-p

Pt. 2: “Smith Playground In North Philly”~
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/01/26/part-2-of-fairmount-th

Pt. 3: ‘A Sweet Briar License’
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/03/02/fairmount-the-series-p

Pt. 4: ‘A Pillar of Salt’
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/12/25/fairmount-part-four-a-

Pt. 5: ‘The Myrtlewood Street Funeral’~
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2016/02/18/67/

Pt. 6: “Physical Alterations”
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2016/12/01/fairmount-the-series-p

Pt. 7: ‘That Damned River’
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/06/20/fairmount-the-series-p

Pt. 8: ‘The Rush’ of “34th St. and Girard Avenue”
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/the-rush-of-34th-st-an

Pt. 9: “Captains – Philly Style!”
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/captains-philly-style/

Pt. 10: ~‘A Tacony Civilian Affair’~
https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/10/29/a-tacony-civilian-affa

>>>

Links to Willis Samuel Investigations:

…For Your Edification:

All Ten Chapters of “FAIRMOUNT” The Series:

~“FAIRMOUNT” – The Series~

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com

Pt. 1: ‘Strawberry Mansion’

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/01/15/fairmount-the-series-p…

Pt. 2: “Smith Playground In North Philly”~

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/01/26/part-2-of-fairmount-th…

Pt. 3: ‘A Sweet Briar License’

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/03/02/fairmount-the-series-p…

Pt. 4: ‘A Pillar of Salt’

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2015/12/25/fairmount-part-four-a-…

Pt. 5: ‘The Myrtlewood Street Funeral’~

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2016/02/18/67/

Pt. 6: “Physical Alterations”

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2016/12/01/fairmount-the-series-p…

Pt. 7: ‘That Damned River’

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/06/20/fairmount-the-series-p…

Pt. 8: ‘The Rush’ of “34th St. and Girard Avenue”

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/the-rush-of-34th-st-an…

Pt. 9: “Captains – Philly Style!”

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/captains-philly-style/

Pt. 10: ~‘A Tacony Civilian Affair’~

https://gvb1210mine.wordpress.com/2017/10/29/a-tacony-civilian-affa…

>>>

All Eight Chapters of “FAIRMOUNT” The Willis Samuel Investigations:

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/cgi-bin/search.cgi?pro…

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Pt.1)

~ “A Four Cornered Phling” ~

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/332195/willis-…

>

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Pt.2)

~ “The AR-15 Incident” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/333201/the-ar-…

http://blackinamerica.com/content/333201/the-ar-15-incident-pt-2-wi…

>

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Pt.3)

~ “Bus Drivers Do It At Their Stops!” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/333230/bus-dri…

>

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Pt.4)

~ “Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold!” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/333689/willis-…

>

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Pt. 5)

~ “A Career Voiding Dance of Tomorrow” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/334330/fairmou…

>

“Fairmount” – ‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Pt. 6)

~ “Without A Trace” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/335026/fairmou…

http://hbcu.com/content/335026/fairmount-willis-samuel-investigatio…

>

Fairmount: ‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Pt. 7)

~ “Loose Ends!” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2018/09/26/fairmount-will…

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/336010/fairmou…

>

Fairmount: ‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’

(Part 8)

“A Reckoning Is A Coming”

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/fairmount-the-ser…

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2019/07/31/fairmount-the-…

http://escapeintotheword.connectplatform.com/content/350315/fairmou…

*/

 

 

 

 

 

 

/*

“Ichabod”

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/ichabod

 

Raymond rode into the sleepy village at the dawn of Friday. It was a dismal rainy morning fraught with muddied roads and green colored slimy walls of timber, grass, hay, and bamboo rooftops. It was nearing the time of the winter harvest feast. Albeit, the season hinted of cold and wetness, the early October morn, brought a tingled air of change. The big war was nearing completion with the announcement of freedom in these parts. Boston had seen the war up close…many of the young men had not returned as promised. Many young widows wept as they cradled young children to their bosoms. The townsfolk went about their daily routines as if nothing was happening in the world with the exception of what was occurring in this “Sleepy Hollow” of a burb just outside of ‘Boston, Massachusetts.’ The white settlers paid him no attention. The stares came from those who looked liked him. Black Slavery was still the law of the land even after the story and promise of freedom loomed across the horizon.

September twenty-second, eighteen-sixty-two, brought word of an “Emancipation Proclamation” from the president of these United States of America. Here, up North, the practice of slavery was kept on the down-low…it was a “hush-hush” kind of thing. Everyone knew who held slaves as well as those who didn’t. The same held true for those who supported slavery as well as those who did not. The majority of the white population supported the idea of abolition and freedom. The country was experiencing “Reconstruction” and it most certainly was a dangerous time for Blacks, free and not-free alike.

Raymond didn’t use his surname except when pressured to do so. In cases whereas he is questioned by people who didn’t look like him…he then used the name of “Raymond Mulvaney,” his slave name. Ramond was taught very well. His reading and writing would readily compare to that of a college professor or highly educated teacher of sorts. Not only did he master the English language through the tutelage of former owner, but through that of one “Ichabod Crane.” He was a wandering teacher roaming throughout the northern region of the country teaching for his lodgings and meals as he ventured forth.

On the shores of the “Hudson River,” many a Dutch navigator dropped sail and hunkered down to a pint and liquors at the nearby Inns of such places as this, “Tarry Town.” Thought to be one of the quietest places in the world, in a small valley not far from here, lies a listless repose of such a place known as “Sleepy Hollow.” It’s name arose from the housewives of the villagers in New York’s Tarry Town. It is described as the little valley in the high hills. On a typical day, one could only hear the murmurings of the small brook thereabouts with the wailing winds carrying the whistle of wild quail and the tapping of busy woodpeckers going about their business.
Twilight superstitions abound with tales of an old Indian Chief laying a curse upon the land because it was always used as the site for ‘Powwows’ and sacred rituals by the neighboring tribes along the valley. Many a settler in the region has boasted of hearing strange sounds, voices, and sometimes hauntingly musical rhythms of drums and fife along the way…especially during the harvest time of the season. The Dutch say it’s the “Hessian Soldier” who rides his black horse during the dead of night. They say that the soldier was killed during the revolutionary war. His head had been blown off by a cannonball while cannon-fire littered the land with the dead bodies of young and old soldiers fighting in the war. This particular horseman was said to have been protected by a witches spell. Commonly believed to be cursed by the ‘Old Indian Chief Wizard’ for the invasion of Indian land and the wide spread diseases brought by the European settlers that have decimated the land, annihilating his people. He, the Hessian Invader, is supposed to have immortality…if he was killed, he would become one of the undead walking the land…in his case, a “Headless Horseman.”
He is known to be in search of his missing head while riding through the night(s). Should a living soul be captured by the rider, he would forfeit his head for that of the one that went missing…and be back in his tomb before the break of day. This haunted hunting ritual occurred on a nightly basis if a captured head is disliked…and discarded for that of a replacement; until satisfied. Then the spectre would stay resting until the next season’s hunting expedition.

Raymond paid no mind to the tale as it was told to him by a young Black Woman who hungered for the knowledge he promised. They have all heard of this strange teacher named ‘Ichabod.’ They have all heard of the strange and hauntingly bizarre tales of his disappearance…his way with words and methodical manner in teaching techniques.

“Mr. Crane was a Connecticut native. He was exceedingly tall and lanky. His long arms hung down from his narrow shoulders with extra-long hands that hung way out of his sleeves. His big wide and long flat feet could readily be used for digging tools…shovels!
Atop his long skinny neck stood a small head. It was flat on top while entertaining large elephant-like ears. The over-sized orbs of glassy-green, sat on one side and the other, of a long corpulent and aquiline nose. The way they all sat together, one could not avoid in the mind’s image, that of a six-foot-four buzzard when striding down the road. On a windy day, a person could use him for a weather-vane, telling the direction of the wind in his baggy loose fitting clothing.
The building that was assigned to Ichabod in those days was an old, yet modest one-room school-house. It stood just inside of a tree-filled hillside along-side a calmingly boisterous brook on the outer edge of the village. In the summer time, that would be nearly the only noise that could be heard outside of the whistling bird-life and fluttering butterflies, and murmuring whispering voices of children about their studies. The winter times allowed no such sounds…only the wind and the Owls outside the windows and door. While it was (still) forbidden to teach the Black children, Ichabod found a way. Twilight was the perfect time to attend to those young ones…nine o’clock was the perfect time to attend to the ones of European descent (as well as avoiding the suspicions of the villagers). His not getting started prior to that time would infringe upon his ability to get or meet the morning meals offered throughout the growing tiny village…after midnight, the older (Black) generation took advantage of the golden opportunity. All hoped and prayed that they would never, ever be exposed.

It appeared that Ichabod hardly slept. During the after school hours, he’d hang out with the local older boys, especially if they had friendly mothers, widowed mothers, and/or good-looking sisters and cousins. He made it his business to keep on the good side of his pupils for want and need of ample unlimited food and winter lodgings. He generally owned only the threads on his back and the leather around his feet. He did own the tired old nag of a horse that transported him around and about.

He helped out around the many farms in the village as well. These aids were afforded on the weekends when school was out. He had to feast on those days as well. Nearly everything was bartered for and traded in those days…money was very scarce.

Ichabod got along well with the church community as well. He sang and taught music lessons of various available instrumentation. They only had a few musical tools in the village; a flute/fife, a drum, a bugle, a violin, a guitar, a harmonica/harp, and a piano. He offered them singing lessons too. A lot of behinds were kissed in order to maintain the lavish lifestyle to which he had become accustomed…at least until it was time to move on to the next town, village, or sleepy hollow.

As funny-looking as he was, Ichabod had his pick of the village women…the young and not-so-young single ones as well as the widowed. Divorce was unheard of then. They all thought this man was worldly and well educated…as compared to the plentiful selection of dull, un-interesting, un-educated country bumpkins available around and about in this little “Sleepy Hollow.”

Ichabod is admired for his reading of books and knowledge of history and story-telling. He could recite poetry and quote ‘Shakespeare’ and ‘Aristotle.’ He was regarded as a man of many talents, wisdom, knowledge; a erudite.

The evening hours after work held an enjoyable time for the master teacher. The drinks continually poured while he lavished in abound the companionship of the local herdsmen and farmers. They too thought highly of him. Tales of darkness were often told during these visits with the village men. They liked to entertaining themselves with tales of horror and scariness over draughts and spirits before heading home…in the early thick darkness of the winter months.

“Phantoms, demons, and boogie-men” often were evaded by the entrance of morning…should one be fortunate enough in surviving the night and making it to then.

On one such night as described, Ichabod found favor in the eye of one of the young ladies during a church recital. The flowering young Miss was the betrothed of another. He was one of the young fellows who felt slighted by his young lady’s attentions and affection towards the skinny free-loading school teacher.
Ichabod paid little to no attention, the looming threat of this jilted lover. He was only seized upon the moment of infatuation and temptation; the soft and warm looking flesh of this tender morsel, so desperately desiring to be sampled and enjoyed.

“Oh foolish the heart toward the sex,” with the aid of his close friends, the jilted lover set into motion a plan that would end this so-called rivalry once and forever…

Ichabod not only savored the thought of making love to the young rich woman, all of eighteen years, he realized the possibilities of marrying into this, such an abundance of wealth. The patriarch was completely self-sufficient in his farmlands. He needed nor desired anything beyond its boundaries. His only happiness was the luxuriousness of his wealth and the broad spread of the treasures within the realm of his farmlands and stronghold.
Ichabod was enraptured while favoring the dream of having the cake and eating it too. The life style of this rich Dutch-like abode was of a man’s fancied dreams and final desires…along with the beautiful and desirable young maiden of the land.

The driving force that kept him afloat, the availability of courting many women…he became focused on only one…the only one who could fulfill his life of luxury and complete contentment was right before his eyes…he could see nothing else. He pondered the challenge of “how to win her…this prize among prizes?”

While Ichabod entertained the household with song and story, on that particular cold dark and damp winter evening in October…it was getting late, very late!

The jilted lover was once the “eye-apparent” of the rich and available young lady in question. He was the village hero who broke wild stallions, was the best in a bare knuckle fight, the strongest and most handsome man around for miles. All of the young ladies in the village admired and possibly adored him. He also only had eyes for one. It was almost certain that she would most certainly become his bride…without question or pause. That is, until this despicable interloper arrived in this fair shire.
No one dared challenge this formidable suiter for the fair young maiden’s affections…especially when his horse could readily be seen tethered at the household on Saturday and Sunday nights. He was formally welcomed and encouraged by the family as well as this beautiful and wholesome young woman.

…Until Ichabod came to call.

The jilted young rival did not wish it known, his plans for making this opponent to go completely away. The jilted lover sabotaged the school on numerous occasions. They caused the singing students and their master to be sickened with smoke inhalation when he and his friends stopped up the exhaust chimney at the school one evening. The school had been ransacked again and again in attempts to get rid of the schoolmaster; to scare him off. When it became apparent that Ichabod was not welcome in the shire because of the jilted lover’s anger, he was openly challenged and ridiculed at every turn. Ichabod couldn’t walk down the street in peace because the village gang would taunt him and call him filthy names while accusing him of free-loading. It also became apparent to the young lady in question as well of what was transpiring against Ichabod.

One afternoon, the scholars were all busy with their books and lessons while the schoolmaster sat atop his lofty teaching stool which allowed him to gaze over the entire room and beyond the window panes. The classroom was all a buzz when suddenly a horse and rider appeared. When it got close enough to identify, the ragged pony bore to weight, a small but wiry old Black Man.
The man got off his horse and clambered up the stoops of the schoolhouse, knocking upon the outer door. Ichabod motioned for one of the children to open it, allowing the gentleman entry into the classroom. When he entered, the Black Man greeted the familiar schoolmaster with a warm smile and handed him the note he held in his right hand while the left held his hat.
The man bid Ichabod farewell and departed the same way as he arrived. Ichabod read the note and smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to make the party to which he was formerly invited. It was Friday…school was dismissed a half-hour early this day in anticipation to this evenings events.

Ichabod prepared himself as best he could. The lack of financial repose has managed to leave him with very little by way of wardrobe and formal attire. He brushed off an old black suit with frayed edges and cuffs. He washed the old beaten up boots he wore when traveling the country-side with boot-black. He borrowed that from one of the townsfolk he was residing with. His old brown horse was tired and dragging his ass like that of the old black plow horse to which he begged of the land lord. For some unknown reason it was called “Gunpowder.” He must have been some kind of a horse back-in-the-day because he looked at Ichabod like he wanted to eat him.

Riding Gunpowder was another game all its own. The saddle had burr holes in it, the under blanket was ragged and tattered with large holes and snags, and the shortened stirrups didn’t help either. His knees came up to his chest and punched him in the chin with every step the horse managed to gather.

The schoolmaster was indeed a sight to behold. He brushed off the laughter and whispering of the shire-folk who weren’t invited to the illustrious gathering. He lost himself in the wonders of the Autumn evening, its fragrances of the hillside, the fall colors of leaves falling from the trees, and the changing flowers along the way to the riches and abundance of the wealthy homestead. Could it be possible that he may become betrothed to the most beautiful and richest young lady in the valley?

“Oh what heavenly blessings await me.” he thought aloud. The horse simply clanked and clunked along the roadway. The thought of food came to mind…“oh what a full belly I’ll have tonight!” he smiled to himself as he arrived at the main gateway of the ranch.

The evening wore on with joyous laughter and revelry. The singing, eating, drinking, and dancing seemed like it would never end, going on for hours upon hours. At one point, the men all seemed to wander into another room in another section of the house. It held a massive fireplace with horns of dead animals hanging from the brick encrusted walls. The trophies told stories of bear, deer, moose, wild hogs, and a host of birds and fowl filling the void in between the larger displays.

The men all held large glasses of dark ruby red port and fine fat cigars that smoked up the opulence of the entire room. Everyone had a short story to tell. Some of them told of evil deeds while some told of good deeds and blessings of good news and prosperity.
Then there were those of haunting(s), witchcraft, and evil deviltry…

Several of the men told of Indian curses and demonic wizardry. Then it was the turn of the jilted lover to tell his tale. He told of the war and the blown off head of the Hessian soldier who rode a majestic black stallion. For some unknown reason, the hair on Ichabod’s neck began to stiffen and stand straight up. He began to feel the chill of the night even while standing quite closely to the roaring fire in the massive fireplace.

The jilted lover told of how he was chased by this headless apparition… He told of how the thing had almost caught him.

“If it wasn’t for the speed of my horse, I might not be sitting here discussing this tale with the likes of you fine gentlemen!”

He spoke of how the horse of the Hessian was upon his neck…so close that he could feel the hot fire-like breath of hell; the smelling of cinders and ash; hearing the bubbling of hellfire cauldrons boiling the liquid of death in its’ throat…eternal death. He spake of the Godless shrills made by the ghosted hunter in the black of night during this chase for life!

“I then felt the hand of the Hessian upon the collar of my shirt and coat. On my neck I could feel the bony hand of death as it clutched away at me! He laughed and screeched a death-dealing scream just as he lunged and missed for the last attempt. I ducked under the gripping clutching skeletal limbs covered in black garment as they left hot burning scratches…scarring my neck to this very day! Oh so lucky was I to get away with the God-sent speed of my gallant and trusted steed that I am here with you all this very day!” He said. The jilted lover wiped his sweating brow and slugged a large swallow of grog, chased with a splash of clear liquid spirits. He turned to Ichabod in a cold glassy death warning stare and said…
“Don’t go out into the blackness this night…t’was a night such as this that the headless horseman shall ride! It’ll take more than manly mettle to survive the race of death…the race with the death-dealing hunter of heads! Dare not venture into the night if you value your life!”

It was already nearing two-o’clock in the morning with light snow falling. The men all looked over their shoulders and saw the main house lights go dark. The families, many had already departed for home. The remaining company were all men…the men who indulged in the private cigar and port soirée…

Several of the remaining gentlemen shared their carriages with one another…the jilted lover had been gone for at least twenty minutes or more after bidding the hosts a fond goodnight. Ichabod was the only single man left at the doorway.
His horse was agitated beyond description. It simply did not want to go…they had to go…they had to venture out into the night as no good gentleman spends the night at the domicile of a virginal young and innocent lady. There were no extra rooms to be had or offered by the young woman’s parents, other family and guests had full occupancy of vacancies throughout the premises.

Ichabod reluctantly bade the family farewell and forced his trusted old steed out into the darkened wet and pitch-black night…the trip back into the village…back to the loneliness of the schoolhouse. The grog and spirits seemed to have vacated him. He was drunk from the consumption of wine, beer, food and spirits. He had consumed plenty…he thought, more than anyone there; left him void of happiness and contentment…the affects of the drink abandoned him. He was left to face the journey stone-cold sober and deathly afraid.

There was no music to hum to…he could not think of a single verse or rhyme to uplift his spirit for the long journey home. There was no sound of horse hoof pounding or the clattering wagon and cart wheels abounding forth from the farm towards the village. The blackened night was deathly silent. There was no sound of the owl or of any other fowl. No insect clicking or rustling leaves to be heard…anywhere. The falling of soft white snow flakes was the only sound to be heard, if any.

Just ahead, a short distance down the road, lay a covered bridge of oaks and chestnut, matted thickly together by old grape and wild vines. A cavernous gloom fell all around man and horse alike. Ichabod gave the frightened horse a bunch of kicks to the bony ribs of the horror frozen animal. Its’ eyes ablaze with the glaze of madness as it attempted to dash quickly across the scantly fashioned bridge. The horse instead missed the landing and fell short of the entrance-way of the ill-shaped bridge. They stood there frozen in disbelief as they scrambled up out of the thicket of bramble bush and muck alongside the makeshift crossing apparatus. They started forward once again. Then suddenly without warning the animal came to a complete stop. Its’ rider nearly fell forward off the front of the horses face, sprawling back into the muddy road surface. At that same moment, the large darkened shape and shadow of something caught the squinting eyes of Ichabod and his companion. The blackened thing did not move. It just stood there not making a sound. They couldn’t quite make out the shape as it towered like that of some misshapen behemoth waiting for orders to pounce upon any would be traveler seeking to cross this particular bridge. Summoning all of the inner courage and power left in his frightened body, Ichabod shouted out…

“Good evening my friend! Are you having difficulty in crossing such a bridge with such a large mount as yours?” He assumed it was a rider and horse when he heard the jet-black animal snort and stamp the ground with one of its’ front hooves.

The dark rider offered no reply.

Ichabod made another attempt at getting old Gunpowder to move forward onto the bridge. The attempt was almost futile. The horse would not move. The black rider’s horse made another move with the other hoof, striking the ground even harder than the previous gesture.

Then, with a mighty kick, the crestfallen schoolmaster urged his steed forward, nearly breaking a rid or two. The old horse moved reluctantly forward. They made sure to pass on the other side of the bridge so as not to make contact with the mysteriously huge rider and mount. Every hair on the man and animal stood erect, to needle-point attention. Ichabod began to sing. He didn’t know what song to sing, nor did he know what he was singing as he shut his eyes upon approaching the statuesque figure who now stood directly in the middle of the roadway.

Once it was realized the road was blocked, Ichabod and his trusty steed made a complete about face once they attempted to pass by the dark rider and his larger than life, black as night, muscular horse. They started out with a brisk and lively trot…the dark rider and horse matched their pace as they came ever closer. Then Ichabod and steed broke into a full gallop in a desperate attempt at breaking free of this unwanted shadow of a monster. They galloped as if their very lived depended on it! Realizing that they couldn’t outrun their unwanted company, they slowed to a quickened pace. The dark rider did the same…just a few yards behind. When they stopped, it stopped. When they moved forward, it also moved forward.
When they came upon a hilly rise in the roadway, they could easily see the full figure of the shadowed stranger and mount. The full figure of this traveling non-talker, came into view against the backdrop of light which bounced a reflection from upon the glaze of the creek water below. The rider was huge in stature as was his black full muscled steed. He and Gunpowder were no match for this large figure of a man without a head! They realized the horror stories were indeed true…true to life as they are witnessing up close and in living color! Ichabod could readily see that the black rider was actually carrying a head. It was perched upon the saddle-horn or the pommel of his saddle…what struck the most fear into the traveling duo was the fact that the head was alive…it’s widened eyes glared at them without uttering a single word!
Then the head screamed! It screamed such an un-Godly, un-Holy scream that it surely reached the heavens above…despite this cold dank and dangerous darkness of night.

Ichabod rained desperate blows and kicks upon Gunpowder in order to get him moving at a full and life saving gallop. He hoped to gain some distance between him and the headless Hessian…wishful thinking…to no avail. Ichabod’s terror continued to rise. His fright, now reaching beyond desperation, only imagining giving the stranger the slip when they reached a patch of shaded trees. Just before the green knoll of the churchyard, they crossed the famous church bridge. Ichabod’s trusted steed seemed to be possessed by a demon when they plunged headfirst into a downhill fall, giving the unskilled rider an apparent advantage during the chase, they rolled for a few feet and managed to get back upright into a very quick and steadfast gallop across the churchyard.
Just when they got halfway up and through the hollow, they could feel the girths of the saddle loosening. The straps gave way and slipped off. Ichabod had one chance to regain his grip and composure…he reached for the mane of his horse and grabbed him around the neck and hung on for dear life just as he felt the saddle slip away from under him. Slipping to one side and then the other, Ichabod managed to hang on. Hope arose as they saw and scrambled for an opening in the trees ahead.

“If we can just make the bridge on the other side of the church yard, we’ll be safe.” He thought aloud, shouting into the left ear of Gunpowder. Then the inevitable occurred, after he had given Gunpowder another convulsive kick in the ribs, he envisioned freedom and safety…it was not to be. The black stallion with its’ rider clearly in control, Ichabod could feel the hot breathe blowing down the back of his neck. He heard the black steed blowing and panting close behind them. Gunpowder thundered over the resounding planks of the wooden bridge. With an insane gesture of desperation, he peered over his left shoulder when they reached the opposite side of the bridge. They hoped their pursuer would vanish in a puff of smoke, maybe into a flash of fire and brimstone, simply disappearing into nothingness…it was not to be. Ichabod saw the rider raise over his head the screaming, mouth foaming and frothing face of the hobgoblin…it looked like, it appeared to be that of a real live pumpkin that was aflame…engulfed in the fires of hell. The rider raised the thing and tossed it directly at the head of Ichabod. He tried to duck, causing the head to miss him. The endeavor was pointless. The marksman hit his target with direct and precise precision… The flaming projectile made a direct hit. It hit Ichabod with a flashing and thunderous explosion as it splattered into a million pieces, knocking Gunpowder’s rider from his back and headlong into the muck and mire of the messy moor. Gunpowder continued his gallop to freedom with the black steed and its rider in hot pursuit. They passed Ichabod with the whirling speed of the wind.

The headless horseman returned to the spot were Ichabod lay in the mud. The monstrous black steed bellowed and raised up onto its hind legs, while the headless Hessian cracked a whirling black whip.

All of the villagers gathered at the schoolhouse the next morning in anticipation of the schoolmaster’s opening bell ringing. It was not to be heard on this morning. Gunpowder was in his stable, shaken and unnerved with many scratches on his hide. He wore no saddle or bridle straps…there was no blanket on his back either. No one knew of the whereabouts of the dear school teacher.

The townsfolk put forth a search. They found the ripped saddle and the broken bridle about a mile away from where hoof prints deeply set in the earth surrounding the remnants of a rather large and broken pumpkin. The brook was searched as was the entire area for miles around. The remains of Ichabod were nowhere to be found.

It’s been said that Ichabod simply kept running away and found refuge in the lands and homes of another church-like community. That was never proven. The jilted rival never hesitated in regaining his position in the household of his once betrothed. That knot was ties rather quickly after the assumed fate and disappearance of Ichabod Crane.

The tale of the headless Hessian only bloomed to a higher level of acceptance. No one ventured out alone at night ever again. The schoolhouse was deserted and soon fell into decayed rotting wood and fibre and mulch…only good for plant and crop composting.

Travelers came, visited, and passed through the lively out of the way shire, many have said that they’ve heard voices out on the moor and varied times of the season…some even said that they heard a voice that sounded like that of Ichabod singing in the distance. That remains to be seen.”

Raymond had just completed his story when a thunderous knock came upon the door, followed by the explosive entrance of angry townsfolk and “Slave Catchers!”

Raymond’s owner went missing one morning when the young slave was just reaching puberty. He was treated like that of many young male captives from Africa. He was whipped when he didn’t give in to the overseer on the plantation. He vowed that he would run the very next time that anyone laid a hand on him.

One winter morning, Raymond was out in the field working with the plantation owner. For some unforeseen reason he began to whip Raymond with a saddle whip… The slave master was out in the field working with his newly purchased wheat chopper/hay baling machine. The baling machine chopped grass, wheat, and hay for the farmer(s) (while being pulled by horses) and baled the material up as it passed over the stalks. Its a bit before its time, but a highly desirable farming tool. The last time the slave owner was seen was when he went to chasing Raymond while his new machine was running…it was found to be operating alone. There was no one running the damned thing…the plantation owner simply disappeared. The livestock that year appeared to be truly fattened and contented when they were gathered and brought in for examination.

Raymond was also nowhere to be found either.

Years later, Raymond was found up North, teaching at a college in New York City.

When Raymond returned to the South Carolina Plantation in an attempt to free all those he left behind upon his venturing into the strange new world. His successful adventures led him back to his people, in attempts at freeing them – mentally, physically, and spiritually, all over and across the country.

The townsfolk in the then tiny New England Territories, didn’t like uppity northern niggers to come around teaching their darkies how to read and write. They sighted Raymond, locked him up and many threatened to drag him out and lynch him in front of the courthouse for all to bare witness.

When his friends up north got wind of Raymond’s dilemma, they quickly scrambled, assembling everyone they knew that could and would venture southward in a rescue of their studious and illustrious Black friend, teacher, and colleague. Just before their arrival to the small and secretive village, the previous night proved them to be a bit late in the rescue attempt.

A small band of townsmen and their new found friends (the slave-catchers), managed to sneak Raymond out of the jailhouse. They had him roped and gagged when they dragged him into the waiting horse and wagon tethered out back of the jail. Little did they know, the “Law Keeper” in the village was alerted that two young children had not returned from the nine o’clock hayride. They were thirteen and fourteen year old white kids. The marshal was busy gathering a posse to search for the missing teens. Meanwhile, someone caught up to the hanging party and informed them of the missing kids. They were momentarily distracted from their mission. They all turned to listen to the news and alert when a few Black folk sneaked up and slashed the ropes on Raymond, freeing him in a swift swoop of the machete, the young teacher was set free. When the hangmen turned to find him gone, they froze like statues when they heard the un-Godly sound of a shrilling shriek. It seemed to be coming from all around them. No one could pinpoint the exact location or direction of the strange noise. It came closer and closer. The hangmen were suddenly all very terrified…they feared for their very lives as they all of a sudden realized that they were out on the moor in the dark of night.
A light flashed and vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The group of six men were suddenly bombarded with the splashing of bloody body parts. They couldn’t for the moment figure out what the gooey substances were. Then one of them realized that they were the body parts of the missing young white juveniles to whom the town was in search of. They all panicked and began to run back toward the village. They left behind the horses and wagon in which they had originally arrived. They all ran on foot as fast as they could. It did them no good…then the light appeared again along with the un-Godly screech and screaming! They found themselves under attack…the attacker could not be evaded. One by one, the hangmen all vanished into the dark moonless night of death and wanton destruction.

Raymond also heard the screams of death and the death-dealer as his horse galloped closer and closer to him and his escaping friends. The scared and running Raymond could not keep up with his rescuers as they all fled. He unthinkingly took a look back, tripped and fell into the ravine alongside the old church bridge. The monstrous spectre of the horseman was suddenly upon him… The over-sized blackened monster horse whined and raised up on its hind legs, towering over the hapless teacher…he saw the face and head of his mentor...It was Ichabod who sat upon the black stallion of the night!

As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared.

The villagers reported sightings of the headless horseman in the distance that night. Many were in disbelief. They shrugged it all off and called it an old wives tale…a “Halloween Fantasy!”

Only the people who resided in that region knew that the horseman would return every year at this time. While Raymond remains alive and well, telling his version of the adventure of a lifetime…to all those who would listen and possibly believe.

 

End.

 

 

Til Next Time…

“G”

References and Acknowledgements:

Based upon a story by:

‘Mr. Washington Irving’
“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”
http://www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/LegSle.shtml

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“FAIRMOUNT”

The Series:

The Willis Samuel Investigations

Part 8:

“A Reckoning Is A Coming”

By

Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

Part 8:
“A Reckoning Is A Coming”

http://thebookmarketingnetwork.com/profiles/blogs/fairmount-the-series-the-willis-samuel-investigations-part-8-a

“How am I supposed to feel when shit like this hits the fan nearly each and every fuckin day!?”  Samuel thought aloud while alone in his office…

“Damn, investigations; committees and committees over them. The senseless onslaught of killing continues. On top of all that, another law enforcement oversight committee is considering legislation measures that could bring police conduct under control.” Willis thought to himself as he sat down behind his large paper and file cluttered desk; in his large overstuffed high-backed leather chair.

Giancarlo Miller, a Black Congressman, made an announcement that made reference to or as “The Law Enforcement and Integrity Act” in the House of State Representatives the other day. The inclusion of one measure in ‘Philly’ would ensure the appointment of city commissioners with the approval of City Council and State House Reps.
The Chairman of the Black, Puerto Rican, Asian, and Hispanic/Latino Caucus in the state assembly, announced an upcoming meeting which will introduce new legislation to be known as “The Africanus Diallo Amani Law,” which analyses an outlines police reform(s) nationwide.
This new law would require city police to be bona-fide residents of the city in which they serve. The law also includes diversity training while removing the rule allowing officers not to speak about their actions forty (40) hours after a police involved event has occurred.

“The National Black Alliance Network,” headed by the Reverend Lemuel Sharsman, is also considering legislative measures…introducing legislation at local, state, and federal levels to “check all acts of police brutality across the nation, let alone here in our own city.”
One such act was committed by four white officers who are accused of brutality when they shot to death an unarmed Black Man in the doorway of his apartment building a little while back. Sharsman urged Black Legislators to understand that “Africa is their continent and that Africans in the United States who number more than five million in our city, would and will stand together to fight for justice against injustice and the “blind eye(s) that aids it!”
He also said that he was assured that ambassadors from African Nations such as “Sierra Leone,” in the U.S. will also join in the support for the fight for justice.

Everyone seemed to agree that the law would tackle problems like racial profiling, death while in police custody, and drug testing among other related issues.

Another endorsement came from the Reverend James Jackson Matthews. He is also the head of an organization involved in the struggle known as “The Southern Council For Civil Rights” (SCFCF). They want all of the participants in the struggle to completely understand that the “White Nation” views our fight for justice as some sort of a sport or game…a contest guaranteeing a difficult episode…guaranteeing that all players will surely come out soiled and dirty.
The killing of “Diallo Amani” has opened a massive golden window…an opportunity for people of color to make an effective demand for change as observed by another Black Congressman, ‘Owen Majors.’

“This killing – This brutal murder has united our people and people across racial and religious divides. This development should be used as a means of coming together – uniting us one and all in this intrepid yet indefatigable pursuit of justice!”

Congressman Majors continued to suggest that a week in April be declared “A Week of Outrage!” He says this action should be organized all across the country, bringing cities to their knees, making a very strong case for change.
The congressman reminded people of the 1992 beating of a Black Man…‘Rodney King.’ He was beaten by White Los Angeles Cops.

“Fifty-five people died protesting against a jury verdict that acquitted the cops involved in the attack which was captured on video tape…on film!
Did it matter? Did it matter to law enforcement? This beating…this shooting…this practice is simply only one part of a pattern of American authority designed to oppress Blackmen…to keep “Them/Us” in our place!”
The congressman cited figures and statistics backing up his statements. He said, at the same time that states across the country have reduced education budgets while increasing funds for the prison industry.

The trial of the acquitted cops was closely followed by people of color across the globe. The cops contended they all fired in self-defense after ‘Amani’ reached for what they said was a gun. The object in question was the young Man’s wallet. He was shot and struck by bullets more than nineteen times. It was reported that the young Black Man died in a barrage of forty-one bullets…police bullets!

Willis’s thoughts were interrupted with an unsuspecting knock upon the door.

“A nickel for your thoughts Captain? …I thought I’d up the anti from a penny.” Sally smiled, he didn’t.

“Just remembering some shit I’d like to forget.”

Sally replied, “I hear ya Bro. It’s like a bad dream that never goes away or stops biting on ya.”

Willis stood up and stretched. A man who was much larger than his visitor who weighed in at about one-hundred and sixty pounds sopping wet. Willis carried an older two-hundred and forty-two pounds – a healthy lean six foot individual floating around in his late fifties.

“I can’t get over this case of the African Brother who was killed by police…a case of pure over-kill.
This young brother simply believed this place was a place that he could come to and be free and safe…where police are your protector; your friend, where justice could be done.
This brother came from a place where human rights are constantly violated, arbitrary arrests and tortures are committed on a daily basis, extra judicial killings remain common placed, entire families often times disappear where many are never seen again.
The city had to put out big bucks in over-time when the marches and demonstrations took place…many people got hurt – Black People!
Amanis’ family seemed very appreciative for the support of the people – there was irony where the department was concerned though…they defended the exonerated cops who were responsible for the death while offering a half-baked apology!
His parents told Me of the shared dream of coming to America. Now he is remembered as a shy young man, devoted to his Mother and Father, his studies, his relatives, and friends.
Now, he is another symbol, a statistic of police brutality and/or racial stereotyping in the annals of justice, I should say non-justice.
His father said they will put tiles on his grave when they bury him next to his Grandfather in Africa. Y’know that man was the first man in his village of two-hundred people who made the trek to ‘Mecca.’ His mother and father told Me that when I visited. I couldn’t help but notice how close and tight the “Holy Qur’an” was held by his father.
I have gone over this event over and over again in my mind…I can’t get it out of my head; my heart and soul aches for him and all the other Young Black Men who have perished by the hands…the bullets of police in this country. But for the life of Me Sally, I simply can’t…the one major thing – the question that keeps coming back in my mind is why? Why shoot this kid over forty-one times? Sometimes Brother, it gets really hard to hold the line on where your loyalties should be...”Human Rights, Democracy, it’s for whites only – or at least for those with the means to afford it…being able to defend themselves whether innocent or being guilty as hell.”

“Yeah Cap, I feel ya.”

The Philadelphia Sunny Globe Newspaper Reporter, Salestion Michaels,  sat down in the chair in front of Willis’ desk with a large sigh of sadness and despair. His face darkened his high-brown-complection (some identify his skin color as “High-Yellow” or “Red-Bone”) with the weight of sorrow.

“I kind of hate to lay this on you Captain Samuel, especially at a time like this…”

The captain trained a listening eye on the newspaper reporter.

“It’s apparent that you haven’t been apprised…haven’t gotten the report, the call yet.” said Sally.

“Okay, spill it dude, I’ve got things to do…”

“Remember that ole’ case I was working on awhile back…the report that I did on the “Kelpians” and their society, the cult out in the “Chestnut Hill” area?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m here to tell ya, not only did the case not go away, it never resulted in a closing… The missing kids were never found. I never let the story go, I stayed on it even when it went cold…two more kids went missing. I got this just an hour ago. They vanished into thin air!
The kids were waiting at the school bus stop. They were waiting for the school bus to the “Y.M.C.A.‘s after school activities and programs. Their parents called ‘The Y’ to confirm their arrival, just like they’ve always done… The kids were not there. They did not check in! They weren’t on the bus…some of their classmates stated they saw them get into a blue Ford Maxi-van that had “YMCA” markings on it.
The ‘Y’ people said they have no such van…only the bus.

Where are these missing kids?”

Til Next Time…

“G”

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“The Games Afoot!”

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~ “Three Laws Safe” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

“Do Robots Dream?”

“Do They Have Souls?”

“Sorry…we cannot sell or pump gas at this time.” “The computers are down”, “we can’t get anything to work.” “Can you come back later?”

I can remember the words of Our Brother, ‘Marvin Gaye,’ “What’s Going On?” “Thing’s Ain’t What They Used To Be…Mercy, Mercy Me!”

Many of us have PC’s in our homes today. And there are many others who feel they are, and believe they are a step ahead while utilizing home-robots like “Alexa” or IBM’S “Watson” and a myriad of cloned devices that clean, monitor, and coordinate their daily lives or lifestyles.

Where’s your cell phone?

Do you remember the scene in the movie “Star Wars,” where the bar-tender shouts at ‘Luke Skywalker’ to get his droids out of his establishment?
That scene is a result of human prejudices against machines or robot-kind. Detroit, Michigan’s automobile industry and workforce is all but totally manned by robots (or robotics). Robots are doing major operations on humans and animals alike. Robots are preparing foods, packing and shipping items, driving cars, and diagnosing human ailments and diseases. Robots are answering telephones and redirecting calls. Robots are calling you on your telephones, reminding you of past due bills, appointments, prescription pick-ups, and making attempts at selling you goods and other services. Robots are building bridges, buildings, and homes. Robots are doing just about anything and everything a human or animal can and has been doing. Ask yourself…how many jobs have been lost and are being lost to robots?

“Many companies are using sentiment analysis to gauge the mood(s) on social networks and/or the web…but getting insight takes new tactics and skills,” said Doug Henschen of ‘Techweb.’

LAW I:
“A ‘Robot’ may not injure a ‘Human Being’ or, through inaction, allow a Human Being to come to harm.”

LAW II:
“A ‘Robot’ must obey orders given it by ‘Human Beings’ except where such orders would conflict with the first law.”

LAW III:
“A ‘Robot’ must protect its’ own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the first or second law.”

Technology is defined as the knowledge of tools and crafts. It is a broad view or concept that deals with human inventions, intervention, and the ability to adapt and control of a particular environment. The clock has a form of control over the way we react to time, i.e., cause and effect. Technology can also be construed as material objects in use by humans such as machines and devices that involve systems, techniques, and/or methods of organization. Do humans control computers or do computers control humans? Why is the question germane to this topic? View my article: “Device Machine Dependent!” (It has been removed from the EzineMagazine posting site)

But…where is the law in preventing a robot from taking a human’s job; replacing human kind?

Robotics are everywhere these days…they are in the operating room, the automobile industry, the restaurants, the hotels, communications – pick up a telephone and see if you are speaking with a human or robot…they control the flow of Internet operations, traffic, trains, and many forms of transportation, i.e., air travel…flights coming and going; albeit, human flight engineers are still needed as supervisional controllers…

If you haven’t been able to read the article which was originally posted to the magazine site, It is re-posted to this posting for your edification…as well as it not disappearing from existence altogether:

“Device Machine Dependent”

“Sorry…we cannot sell or pump gas at this time.” “The computers are down”, “we can’t get anything to work.” “Can you come back later?”

Haven’t we all, at one time or another, experienced waiting in line at retail, wholesale, and/or any given checkout counter where everything stops when the computers fail? Didn’t you wish the operators of these devices could use a (for those who can remember) portable calculator, abacus, or something that will get the line moving and allow you to leave with your purchase? How about using a plain ole pencil and paper?

“Sorry…We can’t write you a receipt, the computer knows all of the prices and keeps inventory as well as who I am, the date, time, transaction number, my station number, and the store location number.” We are at the mercy and dependence of computers and machines that do all and most of what we used to do, as well as the things that we don’t do.

While perusing through some tech articles, mags, and reports of several major tech info media, I came across an advertisement that I could not ignore. It depicted a giant or larger than man-sized robot. This robot was seated like the statue of “The Thinking Man”; one of Auguste Rodin’s most famous sculptures, the “Thinker Statue.” The Thinker was part of a commission by the Museum of Decorative Arts in Paris to sculpt a monumental door based on The Divine Comedy of Dante (Dante’s Inferno). The image of the robot was an advertisement for anti-virus software protection. Remember the “Good Book?” Remember the first book of “Moses”, (the “King James Version”) called “GENESIS”, chp.1, para.26; “and GOD said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.”

The image of the robot was man-like. Albeit, the image appeared to personify a particular type of person or a particular race of human being; should it have? The robot had blue eyes; a pointed elongated nose, a broad and deep eye-socketed brow, and the physical characteristics of a long and lean structure. The similarities were unmistakably that of the European Caucasian male. I wondered why. The word power entered my mind; “Let us make things in our image, after our likeness.”

ESET NOD32 Antivirus’ advertisement reminded me of a story written by Isaac Asimov. The anti-virus caption stated “we’ve been told only the most knowledgeable IT managers have heard of us”. Mr. Asomov’s story, “I ROBOT”, is probably recently known by the 2004, movie by 20th Century Fox. The story was also depicted in the 1960’s TV series “The Twilight Zone”, created and narrated by Mr. Rod Serling. Albeit, the TV show starred several “persons of color” This practice is not out of the norm for many moviemakers. Some believe that people of color either weren’t thought of or the existence is or will be non-existent. Why is that? The perceived non-contribution to science and the world economy by people of color is questionable as well. i.e., the movie “Logan’s’ Run.”

Many robot images in science fiction stories and movies are depicted with expressionless, non-human-like features; even though many of them are crafted with eyes and mouths. It could be assumed the representation of eyes, ears, and mouths are a comfort-zone interface designed to allow human beings the benefit of comradery with these service-provider machines. But why is it

we characterize or model the seemingly most intelligent-looking centralized robot appear to be copied after the image of one particular race of people? Is it the intention to “create in the image of its creator?” Was it not the Asian Scientists that created, produced, and perfected the first humanoid robot? Was it not recorded as such? Do you ever wonder, which came first, the chicken or the egg?

What would you do or how have you reacted when you realized that you’d left your cell-phone at home; or worse, you’ve lost it? How about the crashing of your computer? Your TV doesn’t work because the computer component of something or other on its’ motherboard went capluwie? Oh no! The cable-TV system is down! The computerized micro-wave stopped working, the computerized washing machine and dryer stopped working, the computerized automobile stopped working, the computerized radio isn’t working and you can’t get the news, the MAC machine doesn’t work and you can’t access your funds for cash purposes and/or transactions, the telephone doesn’t work, the lights and heat stopped working, and what ever else relies on computer controlled operations or power?

Have you ever seen “Colossus,The Forbin Project?” It’s a movie where a master computer and its on-line rival compute and eventually control the future and demise of mankind. And heaven-forbid that we lose the Internet! What would you do? How do we function? Do we go back to the old fashioned, simpler way of life? Are we willing to barter or trade? Are we willing to re-learn to use paper and pen, the abacus (how many of us know how to use it?), and/or are we ready willing and able to utilize our financial reports by way of the hand-written ledger again?

The next time that you’re standing in line awaiting purchase checkout; with all of the devices, instruments, and all of the technological tools at our disposure, remember, we will still face the inevitable confrontation of “Sorry…we cannot sell or pump gas at this time.” “The computers are down, we can’t get anything to work.” “Can you come back later?”

>

Now, what about the television system(s), streaming, the rating process? How many shows have been broadcast regarding killer robots or robotics, and the movies…how many times have you gone out to view movies about robots and/or androids, i.e., “Alien,” “I Robot,” “Colossus,The Forbin Project,” and the latest movie(s) about renegade machines run amok, “The Drone,” “The Transformers,” or “Mr. Robot?”

They are taking away the pleasure and ability to drive our cars…the automobile industry seems to love that – remedy!?

Is it possible that robots can cure the sexual desires of the sexual predators who walk amongst us? Can they cure the common cold…are robots delivering our babies in the delivery room…would you be comfortable with a robot giving you a physical; Looking down you throat or up your anus during a physical exam? They have been pretty popular among those men who desire the companionship of women, who for whatever reason can’t or simply do not want or desire the difficulties or challenges of the human woman…would they replace the woman as they appear to be replacing the man in his ever changing attitude(s) toward utter and complete power.

The truth is…there is nothing that we can do about this evolution, this new life form, this cure-all for Mankind. The robot has without a doubt, proven to be a most useful tool and asset to technology as it is…will there ever come a day when we would not have to do a damned thing for ourselves…would we loose the desire (or possibly, the ability) to do anything for ourselves in this fast approaching future; a future that is apparently NOW?

You have the ability to judge for yourself…for now.

 

…Til Next Time.

“G”

 

Posting List Links and Locations to Articles by Boulware
‘The Platforms of BoulwareEnterprises/Publications’
~ ‘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
New BCID: 823-13940945
http://www.bookcrossing.com/journal/13940945
New BCID: 823-13940945 – Hallow

/*
~BoulwareEnterprises~
http://www.BoulwareEnterprises.com
https://about.me/gregory_boulware

“Article Posting Sites”
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http://chocolatepagesnetwork.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
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http://www.amazon.com/Gregory-V.-Boulware/e/B00OI16PDI/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0
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And

“Twitter”

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‘Virtuosity101.com’
http://virtuosity101.com/
http://virtuosity101.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?id=641608
http://virtuosity101.com/content/288611/sankofa-never-to-forget
http://virtuosity101.com/content/288593/a-timeless-epoch-an-ingrained-memory
http://blackisms.com/education-2/
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ThePaper.Li.BoulwareDaily
http://paper.li/~/publisher/5445ebb6-59f5-4aaf-bbbb-4bfc6689d423
*/

 

References/Acknowledgments:

Marvin Gaye:
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=marvin+gaye

Isaac Asimov:
Aka, “Isaak Judah Ozimov” of Petrovichi
Shtetl, near Smolensk, Russia…
https://search.yahoo.com/search?ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&p=Isaac+Asimov

“AI” Of Human-Kind
http://ezinearticles.com/?AI-Of-Human-Kind&id=9927310

“The Platform On The Cloud”
http://ezinearticles.com/?The-Platform-On-The-Cloud&id=5458157

“Internet SOS – Save Our Systems”
http://ezinearticles.com/?Internet-SOS—Save-Our-Systems&id=4481594

“IT and BI”
http://ezinearticles.com/?IT-and-BI&id=714057

“Device Machine Dependent”
http://devicemachinedependent.blogspot.com/
(Previously posted to EzineArticles – for some reason, it has been removed, (5.19.8))
http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Gregory_V._Boulware
https://search.yahoo.com/search;_ylt=A0geK.ZmFlNclTsA6yNXNyoA;_ylu=X3oDMTFhNTRqcWc4BGNvbG8DYmYxBHBvcwMxBHZ0aWQDQjY4ODFfMQRzZWMDcGFnaW5hdGlvbg–?p=device+machine+dependent&pz=10&ei=UTF-8&fr=crmas&bct=0&b=1&pz=10&bct=0&xargs=0
Saturday, November 7, 2009
“Device Machine Dependent”
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.

“We the Matrix”
https://ezinearticles.com/?We-the-Matrix&id=3251674
https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/we-the-matrix/

Search Results for “Device Machine Dependent”
http://hbcu.com/cgi-bin/search.cgi?processSearch=1&keywords=Device+Machine+Dependent&go=Search

~ “Device Machine Dependent” ~
http://hbcu.com/content/288853/device-machine-dependent
“Sorry…we cannot sell or pump gas at this time.” “The computers are down”, “we can’t get anything to work.” “Can you come back later?” Haven’t we all, at one time or another, experienced waiting in line at ret…
Page Last Updated: 01/23/2016

~ “AI”…of Human-kind ~
http://hbcu.com/content/334105/ai-of-human-kind
~ “AI”…of Human-kind ~ By Gregory V. Boulware, Esq. http://ezinearticles.com/?AI-Of-Human-Kind&id=9927310 “Which Came First, The Chicken Or The Egg?” Several years ago, you may recall a publication …
Page Last Updated: 04/26/2018

~ ‘Internet SOS’ – “Save Our Systems” ~
http://hbcu.com/content/326528/internet-sos-save-our-systems
‘Internet SOS’ – “Save Our Systems” By Gregory V. Boulware, Esq. http://ezinearticles.com/?Internet-SOS—Save-Our-Systems&id=4481594 https://www.amazon.com/Gregory-V.-Boulware/e/B00OI16PDI/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 June…
Page Last Updated: 08/02/2017

“Craplets and Software Junk”
http://hbcu.com/content/219630/craplets-and-software-junk
“Craplets and Software Junk” By Gregory V. Boulware 5.8.11 A poem danced around for a while in my mind…It said something about a tree. Is there nothing as lovely as a tree? While pondering and reminiscing my co…
Page Last Updated: 09/14/2011

‘Amazon’
“The One Thing I Know is…How To Understand Information Technology?”
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1502581159/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_taft_p1_i3
“Anthology of An Essayist” – Volume II: Total Comprehensive Compositions: Total Comprehensive Compositions (Volume 2)
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1470114399/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_taft_p1_i4
https://www.amazon.com/Gregory-V.-Boulware/e/B00OI16PDI/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0%20

“Robot Movies”
https://video.search.yahoo.com/search/video;_ylt=AwrEzed7IlNcFO0AVS1XNyoA;_ylu=X3oDMTEyY2pjZm9hBGNvbG8DYmYxBHBvcwMxBHZ0aWQDQjY4ODFfMQRzZWMDc2M-?p=robot+movies+of+2019&fr=crmas

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*/

~ “The FAIRMOUNT Chronicles” ~
Uncensored: ‘The Willis Samuel Investigations’

*Chapters One Through Six

Without being redundant, before the year changes and introduces new and exciting events, I thought it fair to present to you, “Faithful Readers,” Here On The WordPress Network, the complete and un-Censored version of The Willis Samuel Investigations Saga in the “Full Tort Boogie ADVENTURE! ” – Chapters One through Three and Four through Six Package!

~ “FAIRMOUNT”: ‘The Willis Samuel Investigations!’-The Series ~
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/332195/willis-samuel-investigations-the-series

“Ironically Speaking!” (Intro):
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/333148/ironically-speaking

A Rap Sheet: The Year 2013 – To Current…
“On the corner of 10th and Mifflin. One guy was pissed because he couldn’t get his car out of its’ parking space. Another patron’s car was double-parked, blocking him in. Mostly all of the South Philly residents were accustomed to this way of life. The average South Philadelphian didn’t blink an eye at the thought of not doing so. From Delaware Avenue to 25th Street and Snyder Avenue to Oregon Avenue was considered the zone for double parked cars.
If you were a member of the family’s business, you did whatever you wanted anyway. Made members were the elite in those particular neighborhoods. One could compare such a society to that of mob figures in New York. The South Philly Mobs were a force to be reckoned with.
When the old ‘Mustache Pete’s’ like ‘Angie-B’, ran things, there wasn’t a great deal of blood on the streets. There was only money to be made.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/332195/willis-samuel-investigations-the-series

*

“Mask Of The Crime Czar”
“It is late Winter in the year of 1990. Jason Parks is an ex-NYPD Detective turned Private Investigator… and he’s also a Drunk. There’s nothing new about this combination; it happens all too often in detective stories. The difference here is that, through a billion to one accident he has acquired certain abilities. The accident opens up a whole new set of frustrations and tests of his resolve while dragging his psyche nearly to the breaking point.
Coping with his altered life while wrestling with the dilemma of whether he should use his abilities to assist local law enforcement or mind his own business, fosters an internal debate that has him questioning just about every move he makes. There is also the local media that can’t make up its collective mind if he is a champion of Good or a force for Evil.
The trail to catch the Crime Czar in his quest to take over and run the Mobs in the city takes Jason from Philadelphia to New York City where he must dispose of the demons of his past there, then back to the City of Brotherly Love to forestall a bloodbath between the local Mob Boss and his challenger. The trail of deceit and betrayal, suspicion and lies, takes Jason from the skies to the ground and deep under it
Will Jason overcome: the frustration, accusations, mistrust and his own internal strife and self-doubt or will he: turn his back, wipe his hands clean of it all and walk away? Even he is not sure of the outcome.”

*

“So you’re telling me is all we needed is a ‘C-4’ pack and a couple of whirly-bird yahoos to dispose of this beast, is that right Mr. Agent?” Glenn wasn’t even looking at the man. He was looking at the hole and burn scene while his gazing glances took his focused view to the ledge above.
The bomb exploded with a thunderous Earth trembling boom… The flash and:

*

“When There’s No More Room In Hell”

The pedestrians and equestrians reveled in the park’s courses of pathways and trails throughout the region. Another favored entranceway into the grotto like valley was Mount Airy’s Cherokee Lane from Allens Lane near the Lincoln Drive. The wondrous beauty and mystery of Philly’s Fairmount Park was simply adored by all and who resided and those who visited. But just as much as it is alluring it was also a most deadly place as well.

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.

Yeah, she was something else. Genailia put the whammy on me at the zoo. She definitely whipped my ass in that booth. But man, just to get the opportunity to be near her, to feel her voluptuously warm and supple body and that magnificent ass close to mine…was worth it. I guess I really shouldn’t have grinded on her ass though. I thought she might like it. I was wrong. I’m still searching for a way to apologize. They’re somewhere up in the Yukon or Alaska nowadays. I do hope that she gets back this way.

I wasn’t happy with the hospital bills either.

The ‘Dungeon Queen’ case hasn’t come to trial yet. And the Fairmount Park Rapist case was never solved – it’s still wide open, soon to become a cold case.

There’s been some talk around town and throughout the buildings downtown of something else. Rather than the beast, although that story will remain on many lips for a long, long, time; another frightful occurrence screams for resolve. Apparently, ‘The Wissahickon Kelpius Society’ is being looked at. There appears to be some sort of mystery surrounding missing kids and some dark robed monks…of course I had to twist a few wrists and ring a couple of ears in order to get the case. Albeit, my curiosity abounds with the want of knowledge about these characters and the missing kids, I wanted to be paid for the research and story as well.

Paying close attention to the ‘scuttle-butt,’ gossip, and rumors about, I remember hearing something about an occultist and his group back in history class. It was something about George Washington and a mystic back in the 16th or 17th century. It was during, I think, the French-American and British war of the colonies. The old mansions in Germantown reflect upon the general’s visit along with the French leader, Lafayette.

The mansions along ‘The Great Road’ held a complete and authenticated history of events from back then.
What I do know up to this point is what has been said, stored, and recorded:

~ “The Battle of Germantown” occurred at the Cliveden Manor. “It was also the country home of Pa. Chief Justice Benjamin Chew. On October 4, 1777, a British regiment occupied Cliveden and defended it from full assaults by the Colonials. Over 70 soldiers died on these grounds. Although it was an American defeat, Washington’s bold strategy helped to win French aid for the cause of independence.” – “The First Protest Against Slavery was here in 1688, at the home of Tunes Kunders, an eloquent protest was written by a group of German Quakers. Signed by Pastorius and three others, it preceded by 92 years Pennsylvania’s passage of the nation’s first state abolition law.” ~

What began as a summer retreat, to a colonial landmark, became the site of a viciously nasty war, “The Battle of Germantown.” Many have wondered if this was an accident in history.
Cliveden Manor is a story of a colonial family, the servants, and its slaves.
Before William Penn and the Mayflower, the Native Americans lived on the land now known as the United States of America. Here in the northwest, the Philadelphia-Germantown area is where the Quakers settled to farm and establish businesses. They were mostly of German descent, hence the name Germantown.

This area was also a haven for runaway slaves. “The Underground Railroad” ran through this region of the country as well. There existed a number of “Safe-Houses” for escaped African-American Slaves (not known then as African Americans) such as, The Mennonite Meeting House and the Johnson House. The route to freedom for Black people often led to Canada, although a number of African descendants decided to settle in Germantown where they felt safe from persecution.
http://nomoreroominhellwhen.blogspot.com/
*
On day two of the group’s hunt, the skies cleared at 8:30 a.m. The group of rangers set out to follow a creek bed upstream looking for tracks…some sign.

“Damn Man…he’s a big mutha, ain’t he?” That was all that Willis was able to squawk.

“We’ve gotta bag his ass.”

‘FAIRMOUNT’

The beasts eyes…
“Suddenly, out of nowhere it lunged and snapped its jaws…another man was gone!”

“We were sitting there concentrating when, a few seconds later, he pops up right in front of us, about 10 yards away and he was coming toward us,” A tracker said. “I don’t know if the wind was in our favor or what. We were dressed in camouflage. It might not have seen us.”

“I put the scope on him. I wanted to hit him in the chest, but all I could see was nothing but head!”
https://www.createspace.com/pub/community/give.review.do?id=1129978&rewrite=true

>

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’
(Pt.1)

~ “A Four Cornered Phling” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/332195/willis-samuel-investigations-the-series

“I should not have been born… I was supposed to be aborted. Now see what you’ve done. You’ve allowed me to come of age and become the monster that I am…”

Detective Willis Samuel of the Philadelphia Police Department recalled something…someone…somewhere, not long ago. There was a conversation that he’d overheard regarding justice.

“Ha! Justice in this place! Someone was making a joke.”

There were six murders of late. All of them occurred on the ‘Philly’ side of the bridge. Camden recorded fifteen as of late. Four of the victims were women. The other two, a homo-sexual and a hetero-sexual. Each of the Philly murders happened in all four corners of the city, on the same night.

Willis crawled into bed with his wife, Elizabeth. He’d been working all day and late into the night, racking up a grand total of 18 straight hours. It was a hot and sweltering night in “Mount Airy.” Summertime in Philly can be a deadly killer. The gripping effect of humidity and heat has claimed the lives of several elderly and physically challenged citizens. Many of the city’s homeless have been approached and sometimes gathered up in groups by authorities suggesting shelter of a mandatory nature.

Willis didn’t want to be saddled with the first victim of the case, let alone all six. His new partner and subordinate made a clumsy comment.

“Ya know boss, don’t cha’ think these deaths have something in common?”
Willis replied, “Yeah, they’re all dead…and don’t call me boss!”

Chasey (pronounced ‘Chazzy’) Deltaveino was an old Jr. high school chum when we both attended ‘Vare Middle School’ in South Philly. Chasey Del, as he was known, was a made members’ son. He knew anything and everything, especially if and when it concerned South Philadelphia and South Jersey goings-on known as business. Last week, a bar fight jumped off on the corner of 10th and Mifflin. One guy was pissed because he couldn’t get his car out of its’ parking space. Another patron’s car was double-parked, blocking him in. Mostly all of the South Philly residents were accustomed to this way of life. The average South Philadelphian didn’t blink an eye at the thought of not doing so. From Delaware Avenue to 25th Street and Snyder Avenue to Oregon Avenue was considered the zone for double parked cars.
If you were a member of the family’s business, you did whatever you wanted anyway. Made members were the elite in those particular neighborhoods. One could compare such a society to that of mob figures in New York. The South Philly Mobs were a force to be reckoned with.
When the old ‘Mustache Pete’s’ like ‘Angie-B’, ran things, there wasn’t a great deal of blood on the streets. There was only money to be made.

The two guys were squaring off outside after a pushing and shoving match occurred inside. Apparently, the “made-man” didn’t move fast enough for the guy who wanted to get his car out. The angry man didn’t know the guy who shoved him back was a made-man. He shoved harder and won out on the shoving match. The made-man punched him in the mouth with a solid blow from a straight right-cross. The angry man fell backwards into the bar, landing on a couple of patrons who allowed him to drop to the floor. More angry than embarrassed, he pulled himself to his feet and took a defensive posture. Realizing he was in more of a situation than originally ascertained, he quickly began to think of a way out of the situation.

“Yo man, all I wanted you to do was to move your fuckin car so that I could get out!”
The mobster replied, “Fuck You! I’ll move it when I’m ready…and I’m not quite ready, so take your best shot pal!”

The foolish man obeyed the suggestion and swung hard with his right fist. He attempted to hit the left side of the made-man’s face. He missed when the mobster took a quick lean back and recoiled with a barrage of deadly blows.
He hit the angry man squarely on the right side of his jaw. He then punched the man right on the point of his chin with a straight right, sending him out through the glass doors, into the street. Returning to his feet, the injured and dazed fellow hit the outside wall of the bar wall with a loud thud and fell down face first onto the concrete sidewalk from the blow of another pulverizing punch. Picking himself up from the ground proved to be a daunting task. His face and nose were bloodied from the punch and fall. In the attempt to get up, the man was struck again. The mobster kicked him viciously in the stomach. The man groaned in agony. The mobster was geared up to stomp on the man’s groin area when the injured man rolled over into a supine position.
Retaining his defensive gesture, the man rolled over again into a fetal posture. Recovering quickly, the man jumped to his feet. He was preparing to attack the made-man again. Reaching into his right trouser pocket, he produced something shiny. It flashed a brilliant silver-blue reflection from the bar-room glow and lights from the streetlamps. It clicked and snapped while it swung like a chained-stem “yo-yo” with its flashing recoil. The man mastered the tool like a pro. It was a switchblade knife with a nearly invisible edge equaling a straight razor. The mobster took a step back as his adversary prepared for the attack. The mobster then did something to cause the man with the blade to freeze dead in his tracks.
The mobster pointed a brand new blue-steel Smith and Wesson 9mm at his face, cocking the hammer with the slide bar on top.

“Listen boy, you got your ass kicked here tonight. So let’s call it a night and go our merry way…I’ll move my car so you can go.”
The knife wielding man cringed and swallowed with embarrassment and fear. He knew he was a dead man. But foolish is as foolish does. When the made-man turned to re-enter the bar, the man lunged forward. The mobster twisted around to his left and with deadly accuracy, pointed the gun from under his left arm and shooting with the right. He shot the knife-wielder in the left knee.
He screamed in agony as the red hot bullet tore through the joint, ripping it to shreds. The blood squirted everywhere. It hit the gawkers standing nearby and sprayed gore all over the wall of the bar and sidewalk. The knife wielder dropped his knife, gripping his leg in utter agony; fell back down to the ground.

The made-man walked over to him, placing his right foot on the man’s neck and pointed the Glock at his face and smiled down at him.

“Well son, the first rule of confrontation is to never bring a knife to a gunfight… So long pal, hope I don’t see ya in hell!”
Just as he was preparing to pull the trigger, a car pulled up with blinding lights and screeching wheels.

“Damn little Ricky, I see you’re still doing that gangster shit.”

“Yo Chasey…what’s happnin Bro! Long time no see, Homes!”

The foolish and frightened man’s life was spared. “Little Ricky” waved the guys; who made up his immediate crew; off. This gesture of mercy allowed the beaten irreverent loser the opportunity to live and see another day. Ricky’s gesticulation was completely understood by his men and the surceased and bloodied individual who was hurried by several tacit bystanders to his car. No one called for an ambulance because no one wanted to answer any questions the police would obviously have. They would not risk an interrogation by the leader of the group responsible for the foolish man’s injuries. He was on his own.

Sirens sounded in the distance. The sound grew closer to the bar’s location. Apparently, some one did call for medical assistance to the injured individual.

“Yo Rick, I need to talk to you for a mo.”
Chasey’s car pulled around behind the back of the building which housed the tavern. He didn’t bother to look and see where the driver parked the car. He wouldn’t be concerned because he wouldn’t have to move any further than the curb when his ride was needed.

Little Ricky’s boys automatically jumped to attention whenever Chasey showed up. They knew that penalty for disrespect. Several of them used to belong to him before he became the head “Knock-Around-Guy.” A few of them who were designated leaders, were with him back in the day when he was just starting his ascent to the top. Now that he is the current known “Capo di tutti capi,” Chasey’s ass was frequently kissed most everywhere he went. Little Ricky also bowed and scraped upon the “boss of bosses” arrival on any given scene at any given time.

“I’ve got this lil problem… One of our boys in blue took a trip to “never-never-land” a bit too soon. He owed us a great deal of dough. About ‘800 large.’ He departed this planet with a debt to heavy to forget or forgive.
Although he croaked on the job…he paid the ultimate price without our permission. He croaked at the behest of his superior…a Black.

Now, the thing that compounds my dilemma is that I know this Black Commander – I went to school with him – we were good friends, buddies.

Now I don’t, I’m not quite sure how to handle this situation. Somebody has to pay me my money.

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2018/03/23/willis-samuel-investigations-the-series/

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Part Two:
“The AR-15 Incident”

~ “FAIRMOUNT”: ‘The Willis Samuel Investigations!’-The Series ~
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/332195/willis-samuel-investigations-the-series

~ “The AR-15 Incident” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/333201/the-ar-15-incident-pt-2-willis-samuel-investigations-fairmount

‘Raphael Koheaven,’ a private lawyer for the ‘Don,’ has said he paid ‘Ms. Sarah Milfford’ $136,000 of his own money during the appointment to the “Capo di tutti capi” campaign. ‘Koheaven’ did not explain why he made the payment or say whether ‘Trappolli’ was aware of it. The fierce and ruthless competition for ‘Boss’ of The Washington D.C. province, has put a number of “The Brotherhood” on edge. An infamous Porn Star is Offering to Repay the $136,000 for her silence in Dispute over the alleged “Trappolli Love Affair!” The trigger fingers of high-ranking buttons were indeed hot and juicy with the anticipation of who the next leader would be as well as what the next order will be in the executions of and upon targeted identifications.

Koheaven, Trappolli’s lawyer, came after Stevie Cliff, whose real name is “Sarah Milfford,” in recent weeks, filed for court arbitration. A document signed by Milfford and Koheaven — but never Trappolli — promised Milfford $136,000 if she agreed not to publicly discuss the details of her relationship with Trappolli.

Trappolli did not sign the document, but Koheaven still sent Clifford the money out of his own pocket. Trappolli has reportedly not paid Koheaven back.

Milfford’s lawsuit rejects Trappolli and his legal team’s attempts to scare her and her mother, “Kristine Milfford,” into silence. According to the police complaint, Koheaven in last December, forced Milfford to sign a statement that her reports on the relationship weren’t true.

“To be clear, the attempts to intimidate Ms. Milfford into silence and ‘shut her up’ in order to ‘protect Mr. Trappolli’ continue unabated,” the complaint states.

“For example, only days ago on or about November 27, Mr. Trappolli’s attorney, Mr. Koheaven surreptitiously initiated a bogus arbitration proceeding against Ms. Milfford in the New York Court System.

Actress “Sarah Milfford,” who uses the stage name “Stevie Cliff,” has said the affair with Trappolli began in 2006 and lasted several months. Trappolli has denied he had an affair with Milfford. The alleged affair has become the latest distraction for Trappolli as he tries to advance his trade agenda and prepares for the bid to become ‘councilman of his district within the City of Philadelphia and a proposed meeting with Korean Crime leader “Kin Un-Dun,” for an expected large shipment of narcotics. It also threatens to erode the Don’s support among his local crew members and the neighborhood evangelical leaders.

“This is an extremely fair offer,” her attorney, “Aveno Michaelangelo,” said in an interview. “It accomplishes the goal of allowing the few people involved to decide who is telling the truth after hearing both sides.”

Rapheal Koheaven, has said he paid Milfford $136,000 of his own money during the leadership (Mob) transition. Koheaven did not explain why he made the payment or say whether Trappolli was aware of it. Regardless of whether Koheaven accepts Milfford’s offer, the money is the subject of a complaint by the watchdog group “Common Directions,” to the Federal Election Commission. The group claims it is an illegal campaign contribution for the esteemed seat of ‘Council Person.’ Because of the size and purpose of the illlegal payment, to shut the woman up about the alleged affair, in order for the legal petition to move forward.

Michaelangelo in a letter to Koheaven, a copy of which was seen by Reuters, said the actress would wire the funds to an account of Trappolli’s choosing by Friday. Michaelangelo set a deadline of Tuesday for Koheaven to respond.

Under the proposal, Milfford after returning the money would be allowed to speak “openly and freely about her prior relationship with the candidate and attempts to silence her.”
She also would be able to “use and publish any text messages, photos and/or videos relating to the ‘Don’ that she may have in her possession, all without fear of retribution and/or legal liability for damages,” the Michaelangelo letter said.

The letter also asked that the candidate’s lawyers agree that neither Trappolli nor the shaddy company Koheaven used to pay Milfford would attempt to block the broadcast of an interview Milfford taped with television News’ “The City Minutes” program last week. And it would require the agreement be signed by all parties, including the council seat candidate, who did not put his name on the previous nondisclosure deal.

Koheaven did not immediately respond to a request for comment on the letter, nor did Koheaven’s attorney. The Mayor and sitting council members also did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

We got news of the machine gun attack over the ‘Inter-National-Police-Communications-Wire’ as well as all of the televised news report programs.

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The Feb. 14 attack in Florida killed 17 people – 17 confirmed dead in the ‘Horrific Attack’ on a Florida high school – as it happened:

“Don’t Look to The White House for Leadership After the Florida School Shooting,” wrote one online reporter.

“It’s at times like these that a normal leader would step up to reassure the country of its values and take action to protect its citizens. But we don’t have one of those right now. This is the leader who took a whole week to say he was “totally opposed to domestic violence” after his staff secretary quit, amid accusations from his ex-wives of just that. The man’s supposed condemnation came after he heaped praise on the guy for his job in the White House, wished him the best in his career, and suggested that he deserved “due process” against all these allegations. That’s the cost of doing business with a man who wanted the death penalty for five teenagers known as the Central Park Five, and claimed they were guilty even after they were exonerated by DNA evidence.”

“This happens nowhere else”: one senator decries gun laws after Florida shooting.

A 17-year-old junior at the victimized school, said “I used to be friends with him (the suspect), but that he started “progressively getting a little more weird, and I kind of cut off from him!”

What we know so far:

According to reporter,’Claire Phipps,’ “Here is what we now know about the terrible events that unfolded at ‘Marjory Stoneman Douglas high school in Parkland, Florida,’ on Wednesday.

Seventeen people; children and adults; were killed when a gunman entered the high school on Wednesday afternoon and launched an attack. Twelve people were found dead inside the school, two were killed outside the building, one in the street, and two died later in hospital from their injuries.

The suspect has been named by police as 19-year-old Nikolas Cruz. He was arrested at the scene and is being questioned by investigators. The killer was armed with an AR-15 rifle and “multiple magazines”, police said.

Cruz was formerly a student at Douglas, but was expelled for disciplinary reasons. A teacher at the school said staff had been warned not to let him back on campus. The suspect had reportedly been receiving treatment for mental health issues.

Twelve of those killed have been identified, police said on Wednesday evening. The names of victims at this time, have not been released, but Sheriff Scott Israel said a football coach was among those lost. Fifteen victims remain in hospital, five in life-threatening conditions and ten with injuries that are not life-threatening.

Students who had been at school with Cruz said many classmates had predicted he could “do something” to harm them and that he had previously brought guns to school. One Teacher, Melissa Falkowski, said drills for a code red (active shooter) situation had been well rehearsed.
“We could not have been more prepared for this situation. We have trained for this, we have trained the kids for what to do, We did everything that we were supposed to do! I feel today like our government, our country, has failed us and failed our kids and didn’t keep us safe. This tragedy appears to be the eighth deadliest mass shooting in contemporary U.S. history. It is also one of at least eight U.S. school shootings so far in 2018 that have caused injury or death.
The so-called President tweeted his “prayers and condolences” to those affected, but decided not to speak about the attack, reports said. But others said thoughts and prayers were not enough.”

Chris Murphy, senator for Connecticut – site of the 2012 Sandy Hook school shooting, in which 26 children and adults were killed – said:
“This happens nowhere else other than the United States of America. This epidemic of mass slaughter, this scourge of school shooting after school shooting. It only happens here not because of coincidence, not because of bad luck, but as a consequence of our inaction. We are responsible!”

Another reporter, ‘Lois Beckett,’ said, “The emotional impact of school shootings has sparked a booming school safety industry. In 2017, the market for security equipment in the education sector was estimated at $2.68bn, according to industry analysts at IHS Markit. Some companies have capitalized on parents’ fears by selling bulletproof backpacks or whiteboards, as well as offering ways to fortify school buildings against attack. While refusing to pass substantive gun control restrictions, Congress has approved hundreds of millions of dollars in federal spending to help put police officers in public schools, including $45m in 2013, the year after the Sandy Hook elementary school shooting. Some gun rights advocates have pushed to expand gun-carrying in schools further. Andrew McDaniel, a state legislator in Missouri who introduced legislation last year to make it easier to carry guns in schools, told the ‘Guardian’ that, in rural schools where it might take 20 or 30 minutes for law enforcement to respond to a school shooting in progress, it made sense to have other armed citizens ready to step in.”

Sheriff Scott Israel adds:

“If a person is predisposed to commit such a horrific event; if a person is committed to committing great carnage; there’s not a lot law enforcement can do about it. We have to be able to mitigate, we have to be able to respond quickly. He says more money needs to go to treating mental health issues.”
Israel also says that, in his view, “people with mental health illnesses should not be allowed to use, own or purchase a handgun.”

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The AR-15:

“An AR-15 style rifle is a lightweight semi-automatic rifle based on the Colt AR-15 design. After Colt’s patents expired in 1977, an expanded marketplace emerged with many manufacturers producing their own version of the AR-15 design for commercial sale. They are referred to as modern sporting rifles by the National Shooting Sports Foundation, a firearms industry trade association, and by some manufacturers. Coverage of high profile incidents where various versions of the rifle were involved often uses the shorthand AR-15.

Since 2010, AR-15 style rifles have become one of the “most beloved and most vilified rifles” in the United States, according to the New York Times. It has been promoted as “America’s rifle” by the National Rifle Association. It has also been the weapon used in many of the largest mass shootings in the United States, and is often legally classified as an assault weapon. The Federal Assault Weapons Ban restricted the Colt AR-15 and derivatives from 1994-2004, although it did not affect rifles with fewer features. There are an estimated 10-12 million in circulation in the United States alone.

Its’ Use in Crime and Mass Shootings:

Most killings and other gun crimes in the United States are committed with the use of handguns. As a result, AR-15 style rifles are used in a very low overall percentage of gun crimes in the U.S., but they have still played “an over-sized role in many of the most high-profile” mass shootings in the United States, and have come to be widely characterized as the weapon of choice for perpetrators of these crimes. AR-15 variants have been used in mass shootings in the United States including the 2012 Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, 2012 Aurora shooting, 2015 San Bernardino attack, the 2017 Sutherland Springs church shooting, the 2017 Las Vegas shooting, and the 2018 Stoneman Douglas High School shooting.

Following the use of a Colt AR-15 rifle in the Port Arthur massacre, the worst single-person shooting incident in Australian history, the country enacted the National Firearms Programme Implementation Act 1996, restricting the private ownership of semi-automatic rifles with a capacity of more than 5 rounds.

Some Definitive Terminology:

1973 Colt AR-15 SP1 rifle with ‘slab side’ lower receiver (lacking raised boss around magazine release button) and original Colt 20-round box magazine

In 1956, ArmaLite designed a lightweight assault rifle for military use and designated it the ArmaLite Rifle-15, or AR-15. Due to financial problems, and limitations in terms of manpower and production capacity, ArmaLite sold the design and the AR-15 trademark to Colt’s Manufacturing Company in 1959. In 1964, Colt began selling its own version with an improved semi-automatic design known as the Colt AR-15. After Colt’s patents expired in 1977, an active marketplace emerged for other manufacturers to produce and sell their own AR-15 style rifles.

In 2009, the term “modern sporting rifle” was coined by the National Shooting Sports Foundation for its survey that year as a marketing term used by the firearms industry to describe modular semi-automatic rifles including the AR-15. Today, nearly every major firearm manufacturer produces its own generic AR-15 style rifle. As Colt continues to own and use the AR-15 trademark for its line of AR-15 variants, other manufacturers must use their own model numbers and names to market their AR-15 style rifles for commercial sale.

Another Comparison to The Military Versions:

The semi-automatic civilian AR-15 was introduced by Colt in 1963. The primary distinction between civilian semi-automatic rifles and military models is select fire. Military models were produced with firing modes, semi-automatic fire and either fully automatic fire mode or burst fire mode, in which the rifle fires three rounds in succession when the trigger is depressed. Most components are interchangeable between semi-auto and select fire rifles including magazines, sights, upper receiver, barrels and accessories. The military M-4 carbine typically uses a 14.5″ barrel. Civilian rifles commonly have 16 inch or longer barrels to comply with the National Firearms Act.

In order to prevent a civilian semi-automatic AR-15 from being readily converted for use with the select fire components a number of features were changed. Parts changed include the lower receiver, bolt carrier, hammer, trigger, dis-connector, and safety/mode selector. The semi-automatic bolt carrier has a longer lightening slot to prevent the bolt’s engagement with an automatic sear. Due to a decrease in mass the buffer spring is heavier. On the select fire version, the hammer has an extra spur which interacts with the additional auto-sear that holds it back until the bolt carrier group is fully in battery, when automatic fire is selected. Using a portion of the select fire parts in a semi-automatic rifle will not enable a select fire option. As designed by Colt the pins supporting the semi-auto trigger and hammer in the lower receiver are larger than those used in the military rifle to prevent interchangeability between semi-automatic and select fire components.

In the 1990s, sales of AR-15 style rifles increased dramatically, partly as a result of the introduction of the flat top upper receiver which allowed scopes and sighting devices to be easily mounted as well as new features such as free floating hand guards that increased accuracy. While only a handful of companies were manufacturing these rifles in 1994, by the 21st century the number of AR-15 style rifles had more than doubled. From 2000 to 2015, the number of manufacturers of AR-15 style variants and knock-offs increased from 29 to about 500. Today, AR-15 style rifles are available in a wide range of configurations and calibers from a large number of manufacturers. These configurations range from standard full-sizes rifles with 20 inch barrels, to short carbine-length models with 16 inch barrels, adjustable length stocks and optical sights, to long range target models with 24 inch barrels, bipods and high-powered scopes.

The AR-15 style rifle has been identified by ‘The North Korean Leader’ as the “rod of iron” in Revelation 2:27, and has been used in his splinter group’s version of the Unification Church mass wedding ceremony.”

Mrs. Willamina Trappolli was absolutely livid when she discovered her husband’s adultery…right under her nose! She got wind of it via the local news media when the story went international. Maximilian Diego Trappolli wasn’t very pleased to learn that his wife has gained knowledge of the lurid affair(s) that have surfaced.

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Part Three:
“Bus Drivers Do It At Their Stops!”

 

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’
(Pt.3)

~ “Bus Drivers Do It At Their Stops!” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/333230/bus-drivers-do-it-at-their-stops-willis-samuel-investigations-the-series
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/332195/willis-samuel-investigations-the-series

Prelude:
Anna served a luncheon soirée. Four of her guests sat at the kitchen table while the others’ were seated in the dinning room.
Potted flowers lent to the permeating atmosphere. Air freshness and ventilation fixtures gave a hand as well. The guests seated throughout the house paid no mind to the hustling and bustling server woman. They simply sat in seemingly blind obedience.

He made it his business to get even…to even the score. They’ve taken his money, his car; after the death of his wife, they took his reason for living. She passed away when she didn’t have too. She was treated like a savage, a vagabond, and a harlot. She didn’t deserve any of it…the crass and brutish behavior, statements and accusations of ill-projected platitudes and non-sequitor.

He had a plan. He knows who all the culprits are – they will become the targets of his revenge; revenge for his wife…

It was raining pretty hard on Thursday. The training class had begun on Monday but he was hired on Wednesday. All he had to do was attend the remaining two days of training and catch the next three the following week.
The classes begin at 9:30 a.m. sharp. By that time nearly all the senior drivers and trainers will have arrived back at the terminal after the A.M. run.
The attendance roll is taken, usually by a sign-in sheet and then verified trainer via name call. The appropriate reading materials are dispensed and the lecture commences.

“As a result of the Federal Commercial Motor Vehicle Safety Act, Pennsylvania established a commercial driver licensing program. This program has been developed to improve driver quality, ensuring that commercial drivers have the skills needed to operate commercial vehicles, and to prevent drivers from having more than one driver’s license. The program requires you to have a commercial license (CDL) if you operate any of the following commercial motor vehicles (CMV’s):

A) A combination of vehicles with a gross combination (GCWR) weight rating of 26, 0001 pounds or more, providing the vehicle being towed is in excess of 10,000 pounds.

B) A single vehicle with a gross vehicle weight rating (GVWR) of 26, 0001 or more pounds.

C) A vehicle designed to transport 16or more persons, including the driver.

D) A school bus designed to carry 11 passengers or more, including the driver.

E) Any size vehicle which transports hazardous materials and is required to be placarded in accordance with department regulations.”

The instructor continued to speak with a dulling autocratic and mundane tone of voice. He made it clear that no trainee can be tested at the DMV without first obtaining a ‘CDL’ permit.
The instructor spoke further. “As many of you know, there are separate classifications for drivers in this great nation. It may well be in place in other major countries around the globe as well. In my opinion, I think it’s a good thing. Right away it separates the pros from the novice motor vehicle operator…the elitist group, if you will. We are the pros, the classiest, and the elitist…the best! I will not quote verbatim because the text is contained within the manuals in your possession. I expect you to read the volume word for word. If you do, and retain at least 70% of the data…as part of your behavior or psyche, I guarantee that you’ll pass the examination. It means that you have the knowledge and desire to be amongst the chosen…the best drivers in the world!”
The class erupted in hand clapping and gestures of approval.

“The classes of driver licensing in these United States are as follows:

Class A, tractor-trailer drivers, super-cede all other driver classifications.

Class B, a single vehicle rating of 26, 000 lbs. and/or towing a vehicle not more than 10, 000 lbs., and Class C, a regular operator who qualifies to operate a vehicle not more than 26, 000 lbs. or any combination of vehicles, etc., etc.
You must be 21 years of age to operate any commercial vehicle out of state. That means Interstate to you low-brows.” The class responded in light laughter.

“In addition to the CDL classes, there are also special endorsements and restrictions that you must have in order to drive certain types of commercial vehicles, i.e., Haz-Mats, tankers, double-trailers and triples, 16 passenger mini bus, school bus (carrying sixty-six passengers or more), and metro buses such as the PTC or SEPTA vehicles. Many of the large vehicles are equipped with air brakes and other various restrictions.
Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who are beginners, you can expect to serve and complete a minimum of twenty-five classroom hours along with scheduled continuing educational transportation instruction for the duration of your career in this industry. Not to mention, the random piss-test and/or blood analysis. So…for those of you who have smoked a joint and or something else of late, I don’t want to see you for at least two months from now. I know some of you have the cure-all for passing the test(s), think again. We have been alerted to the newest changes and technology for drug detection and the weeding out of abusers and users. It no longer takes thirty-days to get clean…it’s been updated to take approximately more than sixty to ninety days to get completely clean and system free, especially for older applicants.”

Douglas Anthony Dixon was successful in his venture to begin a new job and career. Training and certification classes were all behind as he was assigned his new school-bus route. After the first year on the job, his plan for revenge was laid out and awaiting implementation. He had endured all of the pressures of the job during his first tenure.
His disdain for the lack of respect from administrators, bus attendants who were supposed to supervise the young riders, their demanding dispositions, misunderstood driver duties and responsibilities as opposed their behavior on board the bus – (the driver is king-ruler-has the last word), the problems created concerning respect is disregarded by the riders, school officials, and parents alike, bread high animosity among the elite driving staff. The rift between the entities was ever so outstanding.

One of his stops brandished the constant complaints of one unattractive Black woman of means with two children who rode his bus, they were twins. The woman’s condescending, patronizing, and mean-spirited disposition gave ‘Tony’ reason to dislike her almost immediately upon introduction. On nearly every single occasion, the woman would bark orders and attempted to intimidate him with antagonistic rhetoric and threats…a real bitch.

At another stop along the way, was a voluptuous, full-figured blonde woman who happened to be the friend of Mrs. Willamina Trappolli…wife of Don Maximilian Diego Trappolli. Their house was one of many owned by the Don. This one happened to be in Philadelphia as opposed to the New York residence(s). Once in awhile, she would escort her two children, a boy and girl who were 11 and 12 years of age, to the bus stop in the morning. When she didn’t make the trip down the driveway of their Roxborough residence, it would be the maid who seeminigly was not much older than the kids she accompanied. She appeared to be of Scandanavian descent. Like many of the other parents of riding children, Mrs. Gayle Armanio met the bus on the morning pickup and the afternoon return trips. This woman always made sure to be noticed by every male driver who drove through the neighborhood, whether picking up her kids or by route drivers who happened to criss-cross along the way. She especially expressed a definite interest in this particular driver, the driver who drove her children. A party had been arranged. The winter holiday were fast approaching…he had been invited.

A cop who patrolled the area knew of the attention seeking mother. She didn’t like her much. She didn’t like the bus driver much either. She made it her business to watch every move the drive made. She watched him like a hawk. If he made one damned error out on the road of her beat, she’d be there to get him.

The Northwest section of town was on alert for the “Germantown Rapist.” The Northeast section was also experiencing this plague as well. The thug in the Germantown section has attacked and raped three women, the fourth escaped because a passing motorist distracted him while parking his car in the back lot on “Armat Street,” along the Germantown Avenue corridor.

A drug baron was apprehended and detained in a Philly jail by the “FBI” and “ATF” during a surprise raid on nearby “Price Street.” This major player had his hands in everything…whores, gambling, dope, auto-theft, truck hijacking, and real estate. He had the approval of mob kingpin “Chase Del” – a.k.a., Chasey Deltaveino of South Philly.
One of the kingpin’s dope house workers became a disgruntled employee. His money was never right and the managers deducted the missing from his meager wages. It was true the employee was skimming…but it wasn’t money.
His eventual arrest and testimony put his entire and completely innocent family in harms way. The sinister plot to destroy this family were seconds away from being approved. The meeting was nearing its end at the restaurant were “Anna” was serving them. A jail-house visit and an OK nod is all it would take to implement the destruction of innocents.

The riders on the “El” and “Subway” trains are on full alert when a madman is stalking, robbing, and attacking unwary travelers. Several attacks included people being pushed off of train platforms onto the tracks below, seconds before trains arrivals along the entire length of Philadelphia railway system.

The group sitting at the table with Trappolli were also discussing what is to be done about “Stevie Cliff.” She is set to be on television tomorrow night; being interviewed by “Salestian Michaels,” on the “City Minutes” program. Everyone at the table knew that this simply could not happen…it will not happen!

In Germantown, a naked, skinned, and bleeding body was found hanging upside down by the ankles and heels; was found by the police. The body was roped with a length of hemp and around his neck was a length of chain. It hung from a ceiling joist in the middle of the basement of a large house on “Church Lane.” In his mouth they found several one dollar bills and a large rat, forced deep down in his throat. Several cops, two of which were female, were forced to run outside in fits of vomit.

Entering the room(s) was “Willis Samuel, Captain of Detectives”; these four of six hot cases, landed upon his desk; squarely on his lap, his jurisdiction.

>

Chapter 4: “Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold!”

 

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’ (Pt.4)

~ “Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold!” ~

Willis Samuel Investigations: ‘Fairmount’
By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/cgi-bin/blog.cgi?blog_id=333689&cid=10

“Damn… Why’d they have to skin him? It probably didn’t suit them to simply kill the fucker, huh?”

Willis turned to look at his driver and get his take on the crime scene. Warren didn’t say a word. He just stared off in dumb-witted bewilderment. He didn’t listen to the Medical Examiner when he told him to breathe through your mouth…it was too late. The sergeant gagged and ran from the killing room. In between vomiting episodes, a subordinate attempted to inform him of the identity of the hanged and skinned dead man.

“Sergeant, I want this man identified a.s.a.p., and I want to know the time of death…I wonder who would take the time to do something like this. I haven’t seen or heard of something like this kind of shit being done to people in quite some time. It’s something right out of a “Voodoo” horror movie! This is a bit unreal…the mob doesn’t operate like this…the rat and the money, yeah, okay, but not the skinning and hanging upside down. This is made to look like something it isn’t.”

The sergeant managed to gather himself and get back into the exam room. He got the attention of the captain while he listened to the medical examiner. Warren informed the captain that the dead man was a cop.

“Captain, several of the officers seem to know this man, even without his skin…his physical makeup is recognized by one officer in particular…his partner.”

“Really, is that a fact?” The captain rubbed his chin and began to walk around the room, being careful as to not step on evidence or blood spatter. Okay, I’d like photos of everything in here and outside of the building. I want this entire floor, from front to back, dusted and fingerprinted, I want everything bagged and tagged…nothing is to be left undone or uncollected. When the examination is completed by the M.E., I want the names of his contacts personal and professional, and more than anything else…I want to interview his current partner.”

The sergeant quickly and diligently got to work.

“Captain, am I driving you anywhere before I get these things done?”

“No, I’ll drive myself…I need to see a few folks while we’re in the neighborhood. Get this info to me as quick as possible…I’ll see you later at the office. You can get a ride back with one of the other officers.”

Captain Willis’s mind wandered a bit. He couldn’t help thinking of the things that his ancestors endured back in the day…in the south as well as the north. His grandfather’s stories have carried him to time and lands that he would never see or experience…until now. He knew of people who have disappeared, been tortured, and killed in a fashion such as the hanging victim back inside.
He drove around the neighborhood for a little while, gathering his thoughts as he traveled. where, who would know of the type of rope (hemp) that was used in the hanging? Why was this man killed in that fashion? Was he tortured before his death? How did he get there and why was he there in that building? Who was it he was meeting with? Was he on duty at the time of his death? How many men did it take to string him up to the ceiling? What did he do to deserve that type of death?

Willis’s cell phone interrupted his thought processes…it was his sergeant.

“Captain, I’ve located the victim’s partner. She says that he had been threatened a while back. She also said that he had been threatened by the neighborhood drug dealers for coming down on them on a number of occasions. She thought her partner stepped on the toes of one of the “Big Shots” in the network…she thinks it’s a “Jamaican Revenge” thing.”

“Okay, get her ass in the interview room as soon as you can get her picked up…unless she’s coming in on her own. The next thing is I want copies of the duty roster of the two on my desk by the time I get back. It would also help to know about her comings and goings as well, Sergeant. I have a couple of stops to make…I’ll meet you back at the office in couple of hours.”

The captain concluded his ride around the hood and headed for the “Lincoln Drive” extension to the “I-76” expressway…South Philly was his destination. He wanted to speak with an old friend who would know about these types of deaths. Willis did not believe the sergeant’s analogy surrounding the dead man hanging from the ceiling.

The cell phone ringer once again disturbed his train of thought. The call was from one of the district attorney’s detectives who was assigned to keep tabs on “Stevie Cliff,” the porn star. Not only was this detective assigned to the detail, he was a long time friend of the captain. The detective also knew that Willis was overwhelmed with murder cases and wanted to see his friend complete the assignments with expert detail and successful completions. The all-white upper echelon want to see him, a Black cop fail – fail miserably.

“Yo Bro., here’s a heads up…the bitch who had the “Don” on the hook, has disappeared…she’s gone and we can’t find her! The word will come down real soon…they’re trying to keep this shit “hush-hush,” out of the papers and kept from the public at large. I’m sure you know who could be behind this, unless she took off on her own…and I don’t think that part exists. I wanted to let you know before they come at you with who’s to blame and shit! The shit is going to hit the fan and you have time to get the hell out of the way. I’ll catch you later ‘Sam,’

The captain hung up his phone and thought out loud, “I’m not surprised at this, I knew something would happen to squeeze this thing shut… Did she leave or was she removed? He’ll know the answers…”

Captain Samuel turned from “Snyder Ave.” onto the “Broad St.” corridor. Peering out the window of his car, the crowds of people utilizing the area reminded him of his childhood and growing up in South Philly. Albeit, the captain has resided in homes throughout the four-cornered city, he has often reminisced the adventures in this part of the city. He thought of his friends and acquaintances as well.

‘Chasey’ was a special kind of guy. Samuel and Chasey, along with ‘Vincent Mason,’ were a tight knit three. On school days, you rarely saw one without the other. The three guys have been hanging out since the sixth grade. They stayed connected all the way through high school and went their separate ways just after graduating. Chasey kept tabs on Samuel by way of his outstanding accomplishments when he entered and grew in Philadelphia law enforcement. Patrolman Willis earned his strips up the ladder with his participation in community events, drug enforcement while undercover, public school involvement, the mayor’s special task force units, and special assignments along with his education and training. Mayors along the way have all liked him and usually asked for him by name when they wanted someone special to tend to delicate assignments, especially pertaining to community communications.

Chasey kept tabs on him…just in case he had to call on a favor or two. He never thought he would have to watch him due to a possible corrective action. The captain didn’t score any brownie points when he butted heads with Captain Jarard “Noodlehead” Noodles, former Philadelphia Police Captain of the 39th District.
Noodles was their go-to-guy. He was the “key-hole” for the local mob. He kept them appraised of impending action in and around the neighborhood(s) and the going-on’s downtown. The problem with this particular captain is that he liked to gamble, and gamble big. He also often lost his bets.

Willis had no idea that his schoolyard mate had any type of knowledge concerning the late Captain Noodles. Chasey knew of the rift between Willis and Noodles because Noodles attempted to take out a ‘contract’ on his hated rival during his many heated rants. He complained to the Don often about the Black Captain who continually stepped on his toes and kept him from growing in the division. Chasey always said no to the death requests. Noodles did not know of the childhood relationship between the two. Although the captain had nothing to do with the death of the police spy, he was still held to blame mainly because of the potential money loss and defunct “inside-information-man.”

Captain Willis pulled over to the curb of a darkened corner near ‘Twenty-fifth and Ritner Sts., just under the twenty-fifth st. train trestle. The bar on the corner was kept dark looking in order for them to be and remain incognito. Heads rolled as the captain entered the tavern. The made and non-made members of the club weren’t sure what to do when the Black Captain of Detectives walked in. They all knew who he was… He needed no uniform to announce his rank. Everyone wondered who it would be to get the order to “whack” the prominent city official.

Chasey stood up from the table in the dark corner to which he was accustomed to sit. He extended his right hand in a friendly gesture to the captain of detectives. The captain reciprocated the move. The two old friends smiled at one another and sat down to talk.

“Well Bro., long time no see. How’ve you been since our ole school daze?”

“I’ve been well, ole friend o’mine. I know you’ve been keeping a watchful eye on me as I have on you, yes?”

“Shit man, of course. I can’t tell you how proud I am and have been of you. The bad guys and crooks have a force to be reckoned with when dealing with you, my man!” Chasey smiled a grizzly “Cheshire Cat” type of grin as he drank from his cup. The red wine was being poured by one of the waiters as they spoke.

“Yeah man, we’ve done a lot of growing up in this city, haven’t we? I don’t know about how many bad guys are on the run because of me but I know they’d run like hell if it was you that was after them though.” The captain returned the slick grin that he’d received from his old friend as he sipped the red Italian wine from the tall glass that was offered him.

“Okay, good buddy, what’s on your mind…why’d you come to see ole Chazz?”

“Well…I’m having an odd problem trying to get the goods on a dead man we found in ‘G-Town’ yesterday. This guy was skinned damn near down to the bone. He had a rat and some dough in his kisser. Now that’s something “made” individuals suffer after they’ve done the unthinkable while belonging to or having business with any givin “familia!” We’re just not to sure about the skinning part. What’cha think?”

“I don’t know…we haven’t been having too many problems of late. No one that I know would bother taking that much time to do something so gruesome and defiling as taking off the skin of another. I hear that you’re having some other troubles keeping track of individuals…someone has disappeared, yes?”

“Chasey, I’m not sure as to what you are talking about…no one that I know of has disappeared from our surveillance(s). Is there something you’re trying to tell me or not trying to tell me, old friend?”

“No…I ain’t saying shit about nothing. All I know is what I hear from the streets. It’s not like I have ears in the department. Ya know? Have you heard from Vince?”

The captain tilted his head to the left in a kind of bewildering gaze.

“No Bro., I haven’t heard from him or his people in quite awhile.”

The “Capo di tutti capi” of Philly smiled that “Cheshire Cat” smile again. “Listen, Sammy, I’ll look into this skinning thing of yours and get back to you. Who knows, maybe you’ll do me a favor or two later on down the road, huh?

“Yeah, we’ll see Chasey. I’ll be talking to you later on my friend.”

The two men once again shook hands and smiled. On parting ways, they ventured a manly hug as an expression of endearment to their long time memories and happy times. The three of them did stay in the midst of mischief in those days.

The guys who sat along the bar and stood in the doorways, turned their backs to the captain as he walked out of the dark dubious establishment. Two cop cars were parked outside of the bar as he left. Samuel thought it odd that the two marked patrol cars were parked alongside his vehicle. No one knew that he’d be meeting with Chasey. He didn’t even tell Warren where he was going.

Upon entering his car, the phone rang. It was Warren.

“Yo Cap, I think we’ve got something on this killing. There’s been another victim…another cop on a hit list that was delivered to the precinct just after you left. It’s a female cop this time…”

>

Chapter 5: ~ “A Career Voiding Dance of Tomorrow” ~

‘Fairmount’– Willis Samuel Investigations Pt. 5:

~ “A Career Voiding Dance of Tomorrow” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/334330/fairmount-willis-samuel-investigations-the-series-pt-5-a-career-voiding-dance-of-tomorrow

When The Captain returned to his office, he didn’t expect to find “Sally” there waiting for him, unless there was going to be some sort of trouble. Salestian wasn’t one of Willis’ favorite people. He laughed to himself when he remembered how his friend’s girlfriend kicked his ass when he tried to moleste her during the “Zoological Uprising” by the bears. It has been quite awhile since he’d seen or heard from his friend, ‘Ranger Glenn.’

“Listen Captain, I know that you’ve got your hands full with all that’s going on right now. But I do need you to take a moment and look into this “missing kids” case. I’m certain that it ties in with one of the case you’re working right now.”

“How would you know what I’m working on Michaels? What makes you think you know which case are relevant to me or not? Would you happen to believe that your reporters nose is gifted with some sort of “ESP?”

“Captain Willis, I know you don’t like me much, but you know my reputation…you know I don’t go fucking around with stories that don’t directly help the people. This case is about helping all those parents who are grieving for the loss of their young innocent children. Do you care? Do you give a damn, being a parent…a father?”

“Okay Michaels, spill it…and don’t take all day to get to the point, man.”

“Well my Brother, do you remember my report a while back concerning a mysterious cult group that was discovered meeting and hanging out in “Valley Green?” Now bare with me…this shit was going on during your case surrounding the bear killings.

Now dig this…here is section of the hard-copy report that was filed”:

Just across the street, behind the mansion, the existence of ‘Slave Quarters’ stand erect today while being occupied by residents of color – remind us all, “Slaves were born and bred in this area of Philly (bought and sold in Center City – Head House Square), ‘Germantown,’ ‘Roxborough,’ ‘Mount Airy,’ ‘Chestnut Hill,’ and beyond…the suburbs of ‘Colonial Philadelphia’ and its ‘suburbs.’
The Suburbs? Are they truly a heaven from the rigors of city life or are they the heaven of retreat from the horrors of the past and present – the lying lie of “No Slavery in The North,” when there is no more room in hell, will the dead truly walk the Earth?

Are the ‘Kelpian’s’ continuing the tradition of Sabbat?

“The stranger, blessed to deliver the ‘New World’ to its destiny, is George Washington. The year is 1774. This data is from text discovered in the ‘Library of Congress,’ by an occult historian. His name is George Ballard.

His account is one of many legends inspired by a 17th century monk by the name of ‘Johannes Kelpius of Transylvania.’

He led a mystical and mysterious cult under the guise of religion. The so-called religious order was housed in the woods of northwest Philadelphia. The meditations commenced and continued undisturbed and unmolested from about 1694 to 1708, Johannes’s death, into and beyond current day society.

Ballard believes the members of the religious order in the Wissahickon-Valley Green woods of Roxborough – Chestnut Hill – Germantown – Mount Airy vicinity and woodland still reside there to this very day. For the past three centuries, Dracula has reigned supreme in tales of darkness and blood-feasting. But the Gothic and mysterious romance and blending ooze of hard facts tainted with fanaticism, has indeed planted the seed of intrigue into the minds of historians and imagination of people who believe in the mystical magical powers possessed in Kelpius and his ‘Philosopher’s Stone.’

The stone is an alchemical substance that has the ability to turn lead into gold.

Shady dealings and romance was the lore spun of Kelpius. His spiritual teachings were reminiscent of ‘Zen Buddhism.’

Kelpius was reportedly born in or about 1667 in Europe. His home town is currently known as ‘Sighisoara, Romania’ – where religious infighting fueled a protestant reformation. It was a devastating rift in European civilization.

Johannes was schooled in Bavaria (Germany) where he earned a doctorate in liberal arts. He became infatuated with a radical form of Lutheranism, deism. The order rejected the church and religious hierarchy. ‘The Society of The Women in the Wilderness, a band of forty or so like-minded followers, of which he came to lead, advocated a direct relationship with God.

Kelpius thought this devoted group that the world would end is the year 1694, when Heaven merges with Earth.

Kelpius believed the catastrophe would begin in the wilderness of Philadelphia. A vessel was chartered for the journey across the Atlantic to the Americas.

Kelpius’ followers grew to a large number by the time they boarded ship for the journey. Many of them died in transit. Several others decided to stay in Europe.

When they arrived in the new land, they settled on land donated by German settlers who arrived before them. The allotted parcel was located just outside the fledgling city soon to become known as Philadelphia. The village was called ‘Germantown.’ The main route from the city to the settlement was called ‘The Great Road.’ We know it today as ‘Germantown Avenue.’

Several of the group’s membership began to question the “End of Days” theory as the 1694 apocalypse never came to pass. Many of his disillusioned followers,’ followed him no more. They departed the fold and began families, living more secular existences throughout the young, fresh, and green northwestern region.

About a dozen or so surviving members remained in the group. They began to establish the beginnings of the American Chapter by erecting a series of huts and gardens. They built these around a large, log and muck hall of worship that overlooked the Wissahickon Creek. They founded a monastery and became known as hermits – they were portrayed as Philadelphia’s ‘Monks of The Wissahickon.’

Sparking the imagination, romantic novelists and poets began to take notice of the monks. Their hermit lifestyle fascinated one particular writer who happened to be a friend of ‘Edgar Allan Poe.’ His name is George Lippard.

Mr. Lippard wrote of the monks. He is quoted as saying “The Wissahickon Valley, outside of Philadelphia City, is a hot-bed of eerie activity.” He wrote and published a string of books accounting for the occult practices of witchcraft, devils, spells, and debauchery.

Researching and tracing the truth is what I’m after, not fables, legends, and flowery prose. I seek truth and facts. It appears, thought Sally while sitting behind his desk, the more I dig into this so-called legend, the murkier it seems to become.

When I went to the public library, the records were partly vague. I’ve discovered that hermits tend not to keep copious records if any at all. I’ve successfully been able to dig up third and second hand accounts coupled with a few generations of opaque comments and opinions on the legend by nearby residents and family members.

I knew then that I had to dig a bit deeper. Little did I know this intrepid trip would take my research and investigation to Transylvania, Romania, Africa, Istanbul, Morocco, Italy, and back to the States?

One resident of the Roxborough neighborhood who’s residence was near the Ridge Avenue, Port Royal Avenue, and Henry Avenue intersection told me of a man who went walking in the woods; like many who visit the Wissahickon – Valley Green trails. He spoke of how the man stumbled upon a prayer meeting of sorts. He began the tale with a recollection of another individual who transplanted from Europe to the States near or around the same era as Johannes. He didn’t remember his name.

“Like his father and grandfather, this descendant of Attila also remained in seclusion and clandestinely shrouds of secrecy and darkness near the ‘Bells Mills Road’ area.

The man, a rather large and tall Black; a Nubian born prince to the best of my knowledge, was hardly seen out in the bright of day.” He continued saying, about thirty years ago, I remember hiking through the park near Hermits Lane in Roxborough when I heard a ghostly singing nearby. There was another man walking not far in front of me. He noticed the bizarre happenings as well.

We heard “Rom mom, rom mom mom.” The chanting chorus resounded over and over again.” The speaking man continued, “It was gloriously creepy.” Following the sounds of singing and chanting, we came upon an equally, if not more, creepy sight. We saw a circle of figures huddled around a large yawning stone portal embedded in the hillside. Immediately, I, we recognized who they were.”

Listening to the man speak about the park, I remembered reading about their journey from Europe to the America’s during my research. They were ‘Rosicrucian,’ members of a secret society very similar to that of the ‘Freemasons.’ The portal was purported to be the cave of spiritual prayer and conjuring of one ‘Johannes Kelpius’ of Transylvania – the wizard and mystic of the Wissahickon woods. The group had, in the past, explained to uneasy and nervous neighbors as well as the authorities, “the cave was only used for Kelpius’ meditation and prayer rituals.” The stumbling hiker continued on with his recitation and discovery. “The group told me they gathered there because its members believed Kelpius was the first “Master” of their order to reach North America, and that day, the summer solstice, was also purportedly the day he arrived in Philadelphia.”

The second hiking man’s name was reported as ‘Alvin Holm.’ His posted and published report further stated, “I was so struck by this chance meeting with the worshipers in the green glow of the forest, I decided to join them. I became ‘a Rosicrucian!’ I was already a ‘Free-Mason.’ I did fall in love with the order and an essay written by Kelpius. It’s called “A Method of Prayer.”

One such essay reads:

“Dost thou promise that when the appointed time arrives, thou wilt be found ready, sword in hand, to fight for the country and thy God?”

The group of followers – the membership all came to answer, “I Do!”

“Then in his name who gave the new world to millions of the human race, as the last altar of their rights, I do consecrate thee its deliverer!”

Holm was quoting the dutiful anointing he’d learned from another reporter by the name of ‘Ryan Briggs,’ whose report included, “Then, after that a priest of the Wissahickon Order would dip hid fingers into the anointing oil and inscribed the outline of a cross upon the receiver’s forehead. He then prepared to place a wreath made of branches and thorns upon his head after reciting:

“When the time comes, go forth to victory.”

And then the priest turned to one of the followers and said that Kelpius’ instructions for the mysterious box, is to be thrown into the Wissahickon Creek. The mysterious “wooden casket,” that sat next to the alter; was picked up by the worshiping member. The worshiper sensed there might be something of value in the box, disobeyed the instruction. He pretended to do as instructed by going through the motions. Visibility wasn’t all that great. The torchlight and candles of various shapes and sizes provided illuminations of macabre shaped silhouettes and shadows of eerie ghostly spectres dancing about in the darkness. The deceiving wooden casket handler instead, hid the box from sight – hiding it for him.

I wasn’t seeing the relevance of all this until this ‘Sabbat-type’ of gathering occurred. I don’t know why, but a cold and bone shivering chill ran up and down my spine.

“I would advise you to take another look at this information. I know your superiors don’t think it’s worth a shit…but then again, they don’t cotton to you, me, or anybody else of color to get them thinking and moving for any cause that we think worthy. Brother, I wouldn’t go fucking around with not getting this thing out in the open. It may create trouble for you or it might get you the mayor’s seat…possibly the good graces of the public at large. Do it Willis…it’s the right thing to do and you know it.

…Later Bro., I know you’ll let me know what’s happenin.

http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/334330/fairmount-willis-samuel-investigations-the-series-pt-5-a-career-voiding-dance-of-tomorrow

>

Chapter 6: ~ “Without A Trace” ~

 

‘Fairmount’– Willis Samuel Investigations Pt. 6:

~ “Without A Trace” ~

By
Gregory V. Boulware, Esq.
http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/335026/fairmount-willis-samuel-investigations-pt-6-without-a-trace

The Brother had no problem disappearing into the cold dark night. The next morning, he arose to the clatter of noises caused by the happy feet of children. The kids in the neighborhood knew who he was. He was never, ever noticed by those who resided in the neighborhood. He simply wasn’t known. No one knew his name. The children knew him, but didn’t know him by name. Everyone knew him when walked down the street. No one impeded his direction. No one dared to get in his way. He had the look, the style, the cool, the look of someone you just didn’t fuck with…and no one did.

That morning the Sun shined brightly. It glowed with a sense of renewal. The ice cream truck had just turned the corner. Its noise polluting song, chimes, annoyingly loud jingles, bells, and whistles, alerted all who listened and those who hated to hear the peddlers approach. The children jumped too…they gleefully ran from every corner and house to that sound that everyone finds familiar at that certain time of year – “The Ice Cream Man!”

Some knew him to get a bit of “weed.” Some knew him to ask a favor. Some knew him as someone you could talk too. And then, there are those who simply knew him to be someone you could go to in order to get something done…in order to fix something that no one else could fix. He could make the deal that no one else could ever dream of making. If you needed a loan to help feed your family or pay a bill that would take something away from you children, he was the man you wanted to know and be able to go to for help. He made himself available for such situations.

“Jamal” was certainly there when the “Monster Bruin” attacked the bus on 33rd Street. It’s quite possible, his bullet(s) was the killing force. There can be no argument that Jamal played a most important role in the demise of the ‘Monster’ that night.

Brother Jamal tried to help a cop. The cop happened to be a female…a Black Female. Well before he attempted to speak, she had an opinion of him. It was apparent that she was a rookie. She was out of her element and every soul on the scene knew it. Her instructions to all on the scene came out all wrong. People began to laugh. She was simply ignored… The Brother rolled up on the scene, witnessing the sight, he immediately came to the aid of the hapless police officer.

“Yo Get The Fuck Off Of The Car…Allow This Officer To Do Her Job!” Jamal wasn’t playing around. Many of the folks in this part of “Roxborough” hated the thought of any Black Person telling them what to do. And “Rasheeda” wasn’t the first or the last. She looked at the crowd of onlookers witnessing the crash. “Yeah, these so-called witnesses,” she thought to herself.
The Transit Bus was basically on top of the little foreign made import. The poor little car hadn’t a chance in contesting such a large vehicle. Traffic on the ridge was pretty tight and congested. Everyone hated travel on this venue during these hours, especially in the afternoon. Henry Avenue was always crazy during the morning at “rush hour.” Ridge and Shawmont was no exception. The heavy traffic flowed continually up “Shawmont Avenue” into “Ridge Avenue” and “Henry Avenue” in the morning rush as well as the rush in the afternoon hours. The drivers who rushed this route every singly day rode past the ‘Elementary School’ that sat on the right side of the road when facing Ridge Avenue, coming up the hill of Shawmont Avenue. They all knew of the school crossing and its’ elderly ‘Crossing Guard.’ She has directed traffic at this intersection for many years. This particular morning, she took ill and the city saw fit to place a rookie cop to the post. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Officer “Rasheeda Marilyn Johnston” directed traffic to the best of her knowledge. It wasn’t her fault when the transit bus plowed over the “Volks Wagon Jetta” when it was attempting to make a left turn from “Eva Street” into “Shawmont Avenue,” in order to access the parking lot of the elementary school across the street, as it did on every other morning for a host of children; from the first grade to the eighth. The office in charge of the corner this particular morning, waved the big bus through with her left hand in a forwarding circular motion, while waving her right hand in the oppossing direction.
The left hand signaled the bus driver to continue through the intersection on Shawmont Avenue to the downward incline, heading for the “Umbria” exchange. The right hand; in the drivers mind; indicated a go-ahead-motion for a left turn into Shawmont avenue from “Eva Street” while children were crossing the street.
Needless to say, the ‘VW’ driver turned directly into the path of the bus while all of the crossing children scampered for safety. It was too late for the driver of the car and the bus – they had followed the direction(s) of the cop-on-duty to their dismay. The occupants of the mini-car found themselves to be the subject(s) of bus undercarriage removal or the extraction of victims from scrap mettle debris, via the “Jaws of Life!”
Fire-Rescue Worker(s) freed the passengers of the Volks Wagon once the bus was lifted to a considerable height in order to free them from the wreckage. The driver of the passenger-less behemoth, was unscathed except for his nerves and uncontrollable anger. His anger was directed towards the bewildered and stupefied cop.

Rasheeda didn’t know what to do…she lashed out at the nearest target, the one who interfered with her will-full duties at hand… She blamed Jamal for butting-in. She out-and-out pointed at this good Samaritan and blamed him for the crash.
“It’s all your fault man, you had no business telling anyone what to do!” she shouted this craziness for all to hear.

“Yo Sister, all I was trying to do was help you! Shit, I wasn’t even here when the crash occurred! What the fuck were you thinking…what the hell did you see? Why are you trying to blame this shit on me? I’m supposed to be your Brother!” exclaimed Jamal.

“I didn’t need or want your help! Who in hell do you think you are to take things into your hands…I’m a duly appointed police officer…I’m the one in control of this goddamned corner…Me, and no one else! You should have minded your own business.”

The crowd of people didn’t agree with Rasheeda either. Many of them saw the entire episode unfold. They all saw this cop loose it and not have control of the situation from beginning to end. The cop glared at the crowd and again turned on Jamal. She began and immediate mental search to escape this ordeal…someone else to blame; a “scapegoat!”
She thought to herself, “Shit, I can’t be to blame for this, I can’t be held accountable, I have to prove that it wasn’t my fault; damn, there’s a lot of white folk here…what am I gonna do.?”

The acrimonious and exasperatingly cold, contemptuous officer, with an ostentatious display of cowardice; placed her right hand on her service weapon. The holstered blue-steel 9mm Glock Smith and Wesson changed right along with her demeanor.

“Alright, motherfucker, put your hands behind your back…I’m taking you in!”
She motioned Jamal to follow her direct orders. The crowd was awestruck! They couldn’t believe what they were witnessing… The cop, at nine forty five in the morning, was attempting to arrest the very person who had come to her aid in dealing with this pissed off crowd.
Someone shouted “Why in hell don’t you call in for a supervisor – this guy hasn’t done anything wrong! What’s the matter with you? Are you nuts?”
She ignored what was being said…she went on with her bogus arrest…Jamal was more pissed with himself than anything else. He cursed himself for bothering to stop and help a cop, even one who is female! “Why in hell didn’t I mind my own business…so much for helping…even if its a ‘Sister!‘”

Arriving at the fifth police district, the sergeant on duty, an experienced Black Man, asked, “Yo what in hell did you arrest him for, why’d you bring him in here? I’ve already got fourteen fucking calls, telling me what happened on that damned corner! What’s wrong with you?”

Rasheeda glared at her sergeant and said, “He disrespected an officer of the law and I’m locking his ass up!”

The old man shook his head in disbelief and disgust. It was her collar and there wasn’t much he could do about it other than state his disapproval…and he did, in writing. Jamal was released inside of an hour. The older cop just looked at him upon his release, and offered a gesture of apology. He nodded in acceptance and departed the building.

“Another officer will take you back to your car in a moment.” said a white-shirted, ranking cop, while he stood on the outside steps of the building. During the wait, Jamal noticed the arresting officer parked at the side street curb. He thought of approaching the cop to give her a piece of his mind. Wanting badly to confront the woman, he was averted when the cell-phone vibrated in his pocket. All of his belongings were not confiscated when he was arrested. They would have been returned anyway. He wasn’t charged for anything, including what Rasheeda wrote in her report. The report simply disappeared when it was filed…she was notified of such at the end of her shift.

The call received by Jamal was another assignment. Chasey needed him to erase and/or remove all of the loose-ends attached to the ongoing investigation. It was that of the skinned individual found in the Germantown warehouse. Just like on the night of the bus attack, he was to disappear afterwards…like any other assignment. Jamal was highly skilled in his craft…becoming invisible was never a problem.

>

Chapter Seven:

https://boulwareenterprises.wordpress.com/2018/09/26/fairmount-willis-samuel-investigations-pt-7-loose-ends/

http://blackauthorsconnect.com/content/336010/fairmount-willis-samuel-investigations-pt-7-loose-ends

‘Willis Samuel Investigations, The Series’
(Pt. 7)
~ “Loose Ends!” ~

 

Til Next Time!

 

 

Note:

Chapters Eight through Ten will be posted and available in the “New Year!” …the remaining adventure is to be available in ‘Paperback’ and ‘Kindle’ formats!

Thank You All For Reading, Being a Good Sport, and Supporting “The Willis Samuel Investigations!”

Be Sure To Get Your Copy When It Becomes Available In The Year “2019!”

Peace and Love,

“G”
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*/

 

 

 

 

 

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