Though skillfully orchestrated to transform convenience store robber Michael Brown into a heroic martyr for civil rights, his funeral was hijacked into becoming a platform for the evil and obscene slander of police and America, perpetrated by the usual deplorable suspects: Al Sharpton, Democrats, and the MSM.
Candidly, as a black man, it is easy to feel like the odd man out – consistently finding myself taking the opposite side from a majority of black Americans. In 2008, over 96% of blacks voted for Obama. I did not.
While I am familiar with black Republican author, orator, and advisor to U.S. presidents Booker T. Washington, I only recently came across this amazing quote from him, which nailed the Rev. Sharptons and Rev Jacksons of America back in 1911.
There is a class of colored people who make a business of keeping the troubles, the wrongs, and the hardships of the Negro race before the public. Having learned that they are able to make a living out of their troubles, they have grown into the settled habit of advertising their wrongs – partly because they want sympathy and partly because it pays. Some of these people do not want the Negro to lose his grievances, because they do not want to lose their jobs.
Wow! Booker T. Washington had these lowlife scoundrels figured out way back then. He perfectly described the shameful, despicable exploitation of the goodness of the American people on display at the Michael Brown funeral.
Folks, in a nutshell, the left’s selective outrage over Brown’s death is about getting paid and ginning up rage-based black voter turnout for Democrats in November. Apparently, the Democrats and MSM consider a young black male’s life of value only when it is taken by a white person. Epidemic black-on-black shootings get only a yawn from Dems and the MSM while they sip their mocha lattes.
Insidiously, irresponsibly, and strategically, President Obama and Attorney General Eric Holder even threw in their two cents, sharing their uncomfortable experiences with police as black males.
Allow me to offer a few of my numerous anecdotal encounters with police.
In the 1970s, my cousin, who lived in a low-income neighborhood in Baltimore, had a nervous breakdown. He held his two toddler sons hostage in his basement, threatening to kill his kids and himself. Shortly after I arrived on the scene, two white cops responded to my cousin’s wife’s emergency phone call.
In seconds, the young, slim, fit cop dashed up the ten front steps into the house. He then waited for his partner’s instructions. His much older obese partner moved a bit slower. After negotiating the steps, he waddled to the open basement door.
Upon catching his breath, with wisdom, experience, and compassion, the seasoned police officer talked my cousin out of the basement. “C’mon son, I know you’re hurtin’. But you don’t wanna do this.”
Fearful for my cousin’s life, I was extremely relieved. The incident totally contradicted what my militant black college associates said to expect from white “pigs”: shoot the n***** and ask questions later.
On another occasion, my wife and I were surrounded by police cars at a traffic light and ordered out of our car. A bank robbery had just taken place.