I thought I would take this opportunity to relate a few personal experiences regarding crimes by blacks. Not that only blacks commit crimes, or that I’m claiming that blacks can be expected to commit crimes, but as has been amply proved by government statistics, the majority of violent crimes in the U.S. is committed by people who are black or who claim to be black.
Once before I posted these details online and one of the readers replied “You made this up.” What can I say to someone who simply refuses to believe even when the evidence is public and easily found though of course what I personally experienced over the years I have no way of proving.
When my mother was having a garage sale in front of her home some years back a black man grabbed her money box. He jumped in his truck and my mother, who was in her 70s, ran and grabbed the door of his truck. He dragged her down the street before she finally let go. She never got her money back. Thankfully, she was not injured. It could have been a lot worse.
Around that time I entered a local convenience store to buy a newspaper. As I glanced at the front page at the checkout counter, the black clerk working there proceeded to argue with me because he didn’t like the headline in the paper which had something to do with Republicans. He tried to prevent me from buying the newspaper. When I insisted on buying it, he ran around the counter and rushed at me with his fist raised. At the last moment he stopped and returned behind the counter and, although expecting more trouble from him, he went ahead and allowed me to buy the paper. It was only later that I realized I could have sued the store chain for a considerable sum and gotten the fellow fired. But I wasn’t interested in any of that. I prefer to avoid trouble and mind my own business.
A month or so later I was walking late at night, as was my habit in those days. A block from my home, a car jumped the curb and two black men jumped out. I saw what was up and tried to run–except I really don’t run, only walk. One pulled a knife and cut me up a good bit and soon had knocked me down in the middle of the street. These two I suppose were experienced at this and were likely ex-cons–the first thing they did was to knock off my glasses so I could not identify them. The surprising part to me was that neither of them showed the least concern about being seen or arrested. By a poor chance, no one did see the event, and when they had satisfied themselves that I had no money, they stood in the middle of the street for what seemed a long while discussing what to do, then they casually strolled back to their car and drove away. I walked to the local convenience store and stepped inside–the clerk (a different one than I had encountered before)–almost fainted from seeing all the blood. I was taken to the hospital where I was stitched back together with no long-term consequences except a few scars. This event put a panic into my neighbors. “Were they black?” one couple asked me, as if not knowing the answer. “Yes.” They moved away soon after. The police did phone me afterward saying they had picked up a couple of guys and would I come down to the station to ID them? I said no because there was no way I could ID them since the first thing they did was knock off my glasses so I never got a good look at them.
A couple of years later my brother-in-law was crossing a street on foot in the evening in a black part of town. A car driven by blacks ran the light and hit him. He was in a wheelchair for a year. There were witnesses but all were black and they told the police that he had been jaywalking, when in fact he was crossing at the public crosswalk with the right of way. Thank goodness he can now walk again.
My wife attended mostly black schools growing up. She has told me many stories of how she and her sisters were attacked by groups of blacks at school. No one ever did a thing about it. Thankfully, she was never injured, or her sisters.
My son later held a late night security guard job. One time a gang of blacks drove up, pulled a gun, and threatened to kill him. They took his wallet and jacket and other personal items. One of them wore the jacket when he robbed a convenience store that same night. They were never caught or identified.
Neighbors a mile or two from my home let their teenage son work in a pizza shop. One evening when he was alone cleaning up, a black man entered and robbed the place. He shot the teenager in the head, killing him. It was his first job. The black man was identified from a surveillance photo. He had just been released from prison.
At a local fast-food restaurant a black homeless man began showing up. He asked me for money in a friendly way, explaining that he had no money to buy lunch. I kindly gave him a five dollar bill so he could buy a sandwich. A week later I saw him again. He asked for more money as I was leaving. I didn’t hear him and the next thing I knew he was rushing at me with his fist raised threatening to kill me. Actually, I had met him a month earlier: I was sitting inside eating a sandwich with my headphones on and I suddenly realized that this black man was standing over me shouting and threatening me. That was my first encounter with him; still I did give him the five dollars a month later. We were far from through, though. Some time later he entered the same restaurant, and with at least a dozen people there, he began shouting at the clerks and threatening to kill them. I approached him and said “These people work hard, why don’t you wait your turn in line and show them a little respect?” His response was to turn his threats to me. He yelled “I have a gun in my car. I’m gonna get it and come back and kill you.” I yelled back “Go and get it. I’ll take it away from you and break your head open.” He stalked off as if going to get his gun. All the customers ran out, leaving two helpless clerks in the shop and one white woman who shook like a leaf. As soon as she got her sandwich, she bolted. I was actually disappointed that he did not come back. I was ready to take it away and teach him a lesson. Some time later this same guy came in again when I was not there. He threatened the clerks and when they told him to get out, he dropped his pants and exposed himself to a child. He was finally arrested. No, he never had a gun, but he did have a large knife.
Once when I was in another restaurant, I went to my car for a minute leaving behind a satchel. When I came back a young black girl of maybe ten was sitting in my seat going through my satchel. Her parents were sitting a short distance away watching her. When I came back she jumped up and ran back to her parents who merely looked at me with blank stares clearly having sent her over to do some free thieving for them. There was nothing of value in the satchel but I thought it amazing that parents would use their young kids to commit theft. They knew that a young girl of ten would not be arrested. Since there was nothing I could do and nothing was stolen I of course let it go and ignored them. I had heard in the news of young children being used to commit thievery but this was my first personal experience with it.
Once a manager, an immigrant from Mexico, related to me an incident where a black guy had come in and pilfered money from his change-jar while the manager had his back turned preparing the guy’s sandwich. The manager turned around and saw him and said “You took money from my change-jar” but he simply denied it. When the manager pointed out that the guy was on camera and had been filmed he still denied it. He paid for his sandwich and took his meal and left. The manager added that his shop had been broken into several times with much money stolen, of course he doesn’t know by whom exactly. The police rarely follow up on such break-ins. The manager also told me that a black man had once put a gun on his pregnant wife’s stomach and robbed her. The manager said that he wished he could keep blacks out of his store entirely to halt the theft and crime but of course could not, though he had been forced to physically hold his door shut to keep determined black troublemakers from entering which in effect kept the manager imprisoned in his own store while blocking out customers. The same manager was playing basketball when a black guy on the opposing team assaulted him and knocked him down, injuring his back and causing him to spend much time and money on medical care to fix his back.
I can’t count the number of times that I’ve encountered angry black men outside various stores, demanding money, or glaring at me or others in a threatening way, or parking their cars at gasoline stations deliberately in such a way that made it difficult for others to pump.
My sister was walking downtown once when a black man grabbed her and shoved a hot dog in her mouth, yelling “This is how you whites make us blacks live.” She had never seen him before and never saw him again.
My father spent his life at a large company waiting for promotions that never came because the company felt compelled to promote blacks who had a fraction of his education and experience. It was a bitter experience for him. This reminds me of another incident: when I was very young, perhaps twelve, I had a new bike. I took it to a local park where a number of black kids were riding bikes. One asked me if she could ride my bike and young and innocent as I was I said yes. She hopped on and rode away never to return. My father was so angry that he took me and drove all over the black side of town looking for that bike. Thank goodness we never found it or I suppose a race riot might have ensued. Clearly, it wasn’t about the bike, but the incident showed how angry and bitter my father with his Ivy League degree was at being passed over so many times in favor of uneducated blacks due to affirmative action.
This was followed years later when I was about seventeen. Outside a local club a black guy my age sat himself on another bike I had and tried to ride off. I stopped him. He turned out to be a really great guy who simply was raised wrong and had lots of issues like drugs and alcohol. We became friends. He didn’t have a mean bone in his body but was kind and respectful to everyone and was very funny. Years later when I was in college, I let him room with me for a day. When I went to class I locked him out and said he needs to spend the day looking for work because I could not afford to support him. When I returned later I discovered that as soon as I left he had broken into my apartment, taken all my money he could find, and spent it on booze, rolled cigarettes, pot, and girlie mags. I found him passed out on my floor. Understanding that his emotional problems were way beyond what I could deal with, I sent him on his way and years later learned he was confined in a drug rehab center. I never saw him again.
Across from my college apartment several blacks lived with a dog. The dog stayed outside by their front door and had a broken leg. They kicked at the dog a lot, never showed the dog any affection, and never fed him and finally when the dog’s leg healed, he trotted off and never came back. I had never seen anyone treat a helpless animal like that.
Later I had a couple of rent houses until rising taxes forced me to sell. In all the years that I owned these I never had to evict anyone for non-payment of rent. Every tenant communicated well and if they didn’t pay the rent on time at least they acknowledged what they owed and eventually paid up. By coincidence and certainly not by my policy, no black had ever rented one of my houses or tried to. The first black who did rent stopped paying after only a couple of months. Despite many attempts to work something out or renegotiate, nothing worked out and she never paid another dime. She became the one and only person I ever had to formally evict. I sold the houses soon after so the experience was not repeated.
Not too long ago a man tried forcing his way into a neighbor’s house when the woman was home. He broke the door and then fled. She reported this on NextDoor and at the end of her long description of what had happened she mentioned that he was black. I commented and pointed out that she had said he was black. NextDoor banned me. On a local radio show a man called in and it was clear that the caller was a recent Arab immigrant who was still struggling with English. He pointed out that government statistics show that it is mostly blacks who commit violent crime — the host said “That means nothing. Statistics can be used to prove anything” and cut him off.
I live in a large city of millions. The crime here is very high and is almost always committed by black men. People get robbed while jogging, or even in front of their homes. Recently a new trend has developed of blacks watching ATMs inside grocery stores and when they see someone getting money from the ATM, they follow him or her into the parking lot, smash their car window and rob them at gunpoint. Or they follow them home and rob them there. When I lived elsewhere, blacks robbed the next door neighbor in broad daylight while she was unloading groceries in her driveway.
We know not much will ever be done about these crimes because City Hall is monopolized by blacks who control the machinery of justice in this city. Having served as an election judge during elections, I have heard much about how blacks falsify voting records so their representatives have no possibility of losing office. They own the government here, and even though Hispanics outnumber the blacks, the blacks have such a lock on it that they cannot be removed by normal election processes. Recently the city tried installing cameras at lights to catch cars running red lights. They soon took them all down for the simple reason that they discovered that it was mostly blacks who were running the lights, so to keep the cameras in place was politically impossible.
Every violent crime ever committed against my family was done by a black man, and most of my family members have been victimized at some time by black men. And this is just one small family. Many of the crimes I have related here were never reported to the police due to our lack of confidence that they have the ability to arrest the perpetrators or that the courts would prosecute the cases, assuming I could even identify them, or would even bother to investigate. Needless to say, these days I never leave my home without a gun. I have friends who have actually gotten into situations where they and groups of blacks have had a standoff where both sides were pointing guns at each other. Blacks seem to back off when they meet someone with a gun.
I am constantly amazed at the naivete and ignorance of people who live in mostly-white areas of the country and how little they understand about blacks and crime even though many cities have been made almost unlivable in many parts of the country due to black crime.
I will also add that I have friends who are black, and I have even had black business partners who were excellent people. I’ve known many capital fellows who were black and I don’t avoid people simply because they are black. Black does not necessarily mean violent, but I do caution all my family members not to visit the home of a black who seems to be friendly unless accompanied by other whites, or if you know for a fact that the black is a pious church-goer who has many white friends. Otherwise, you just never know what might happen. I have seen several reports of whites who accompanied a black ‘friend’ to his home only to be attacked by several blacks. It’s best just not to go to any black’s home without an escort or backup.