According to Tommy DeBarge (right):

Bobby (left) and I had always shared a room together. We used to lie in our separate beds at night and talk before drifting off to sleep.

I had taken a bath one particular evening and entered our bedroom. By the dim light, I saw the form of Bobby's body under the covers. He was quiet that night, whereas he was usually singing or talking.

He looked at my body in a peculiar way. Before I was able to ask him what was wrong, he asked, "Do you jack off?"

Before I could answer, he told me it would feel good and that it would help me relieve stress. He told me there was nothing wrong with it.

Bobby's mind was devious. We were in our own separate beds initially, and then he came over to mine. He moved uncomfortably close to me. He then asked an unsettling question, "Can I put it in?" I was confused by what he meant. I was young and inexperienced with natural intercourse with a female, not to mention unnatural relations with a male.

"No!" I demanded. He laughingly explained how men came together in that manner. and I held firm to my answer, "No!" I wondered where and how my brother had obtained such vile knowledge.

Bobby never took no for an answer. He was strong, and he held me down and he forced his way on me, then in me.

Afterward, I was overtaken with shame and I feared him even more than before. There was no way around what had happened. My brother had raped me!

I was so scared when I awoke the next morning with that being the first thing on my mind. When my eyes met with Bobby's in the kitchen, he quickly turned away.

Bobby had always teased me. But he scorned me like never before in front of our friends and cousins that first day after he molested and raped me.

I held in what happened, which enabled Bobby to continue the abuse. He found words and ways to trick me into his unnatural sexual enjoyment on a regular basis. I hated going to bed at night. I took on the guilt of shame, seeing his degrading acts as my fault instead of his. I had already perceived myself to be unlovable based on Daddy's words and actions towards me; being molested and raped by my own brother made me feel less than human.

From that first horrible evening forward, he refused to allow me to hang out with him publicly until several years later. I continued to be the focus of his perversion at night, nonetheless. Bobby used me and then hated me for allowing myself to be used. He got angry whenever he saw me, since I was a mirror he looked into only to find his vice. He was very cold towards me during our teenage years.

When we finally got separate rooms, I was sure the sexual abuse would finally come to an end. I was wrong again. Bobby would sneak into my room late at night. I would hear him coming. I'll make attempts at pretending to be asleep. Bobby was never fooled. Sometimes I retaliated with anger, but he would manipulate me into allowing him to molest me by telling me he would make advances towards another brother if I didn't participate. The thought of him sodomizing one of my younger brothers terrified me. For that reason, I gave in. Surrendering my own body was my false understanding of protecting my younger brothers.

Bobby abused me sexually until I was fifteen.


by: Erica Taylor

Pat Rainey was a famous showgirl, singer and actress of the late 1940’s. She was the first black singer to appear at exclusive supper clubs, including the famous Zanzibar Night Club. Referred to as a “society girl”, Rainey was described as a stunning beauty. Her father was prominent black attorney Julian Rainey.

Originally from Boston, Rainey was romantically connected to men such as Joe Louis and King Farouk (2nd photo) of Egypt. King Farouk had a thing for light skinned African American women. In the 1950's, Farouk and an Italian Prince exchanged cold glances and hot words over black actress Tessa Prendergast (above-3rd photo) who resembles Pat Rainey. Prendergast was in Rome shooting a film. The two royals continued to clash when Farouk tried to persuade Prendergrast to leave the company of the Italian Prince who had been her constant companion in Italy. The clash became so heated that the police had to intervene.

Though a beloved figure on Broadway, Pat Rainey soon fell into trouble with drugs and prostitution (becoming a high price call girl) when the jobs were slow. She was arrested when an undercover white police officer offered to meet her at the Spencer Arms Hotel. There, he found Rainey with a hypodermic needle, heroine and a fake prescription for morphine.

She was featured in a 1952 Jet Magazine story that covered her trial in a New York women’s court. Using a legal aide lawyer, Rainey was charged with prostitution and for writing a fake prescription for drugs. She was paroled into the custody of her father, who subsequently became her business manager.

In 1954, Rainey took her career overseas to Europe to work the cabaret circuit. In Rome, she met King Farouk, the former ruler of Egypt at the Kit Kat nightclub. Pat Rainey would be featured in several short black films and European productions like London’s “Into Thin Air.” She appeared in shows from Casablanca to Algiers. Her new manager, Jay Clifford, publicly predicted her career to reach that of famed star Eartha Kitt.

Little was recorded about the remaining career of Pat Rainey and she disappeared without a trace.



In the film "Django Unchained," actress Nichole Galicia (above) portrayed a 'fancy girl,' referred to as an 'comfort girl' in the film.

During slavery, attractive female slaves, including mulatto's with golden curls and light eyes were auctioned off into concubinage or prostitution.

The "fancy sex trade,' commanded a higher price than skilled male slaves.


New Orleans and Lexington, Kentucky, had active markets in "fancy girls." Beautiful young girls and women, often mulatto or quadroon, who were sold not as domestics but as concubines. These auctions (18th Century sex trafficking) attracted the richest men in the world; including prominent politicians.

The women were presented at auction well dressed and coiffed, sometimes with expensive jewelry.

In the 1850s, beautiful teenage girls were valued at more than $1,500 (close to $30,000 in today's dollars), which made them "more expensive" than prime male field hands. Buying a "fancy girl" was a status symbol for rich men, traders, gamblers, and saloonkeepers.

Law firms (below) also acted as pimps in regards to 'fancy girls.' Often selling them to men across the U.S. and arranging auctions.

Because New Orleans attracted a large population of gamblers, debauchees and revelers for Carnival, it was the largest market for those girls and young women who were sent there from the Upper South.


D'Marie Warren (above-left) was a member of Alton McClain and Destiny. They are best known for the smash hit "It Must Be Love."

Warren also sang background on Maze featuring Frankie Beverly's classic "Joy and Pain."

After Alton McClain and Destiny disbanded, Warren joined the girl group "Krystol." She was featured on their first album. The group was produced by Leon Sylvers III.

One evening, in 1985, a studio session (in the Hollywood Hills) didn't let out until midnight. It was pitch dark when Warren left the studio.

She was unfamiliar with the area and got turned around, sadly, her car plunged over a cliff, she was killed instantly.

Additional Information:

Alton McClain (top photo-center) would turn her focus to gospel music and marry Grammy Award producer Skip Scaborough (above-center-wearing glasses).

Skip Scaborough (who died in 2003) was considerably wealthy, he wrote and produced the following hits:

"Love Or Let Me Be Lonely" (Friends of Distinction)


"Can't Hide Love", (Earth, Wind & Fire, Carmen McRae, Hummingbird)

"Love Ballad" (LTD)


"Don't Ask My Neighbors" (The Emotions)

"Love's Holiday" (Earth, Wind & Fire)


"Lovely Day" (Bill Withers)

"Love Changes" (Mother's Finest)


"Giving You the Best That I Got" (Anita Baker)


by: Hugo Martin

1995: Every Saturday night for years, rock 'n' roll blared from the outdoor speakers on the balcony of Charlie Minor's (top picture-black shirt and beard) rented Malibu beach house.

Until the frosty hours of the next morning, scores of beautiful bikini-clad women, music executives and celebrities (including Janet Jackson, Quincy Jones, Jeffrey Osborne and Jimmy Jam) checked in to enjoy Minor's food, drinks and hospitality, their limos swallowing up dozens of parking spots along Pacific Coast Highway (PCH).

And when an angry neighbor complained, Minor, the flamboyant and gregarious record promoter, responded, "What's the problem?" as if everybody had the perpetual party attitude of "Good Time" Charlie Minor.

Suave, extravagant and fun-loving, Minor was the king of the record industry's night life, and his beachfront retreat was his castle. He would party all night--usually with an attractive woman on each arm--and get up fresh the next morning to schmooze another record onto the Top 40 list (which made him a multi-millionaire).

But the good life ended for Minor on the second floor of that Malibu home, where he was shot to death, allegedly by a spurned lover, one of the many young, attractive girlfriends with whom he shared his fast-paced lifestyle.

Suzette McClure, a 27-year-old stripper (former aerospace employee) who friends said was deeply infatuated with Minor, was arrested. Investigators believe it was a classic crime of passion: By their account, she showed up at the Malibu home unannounced, found Minor with another woman and killed him after he made it clear that he didn't want to see her again.

Minor may not have been a household name, but many top artists credited him for helping put their music at the top of the charts: Janet Jackson, Jeffrey Osborne, Sting, Amy Grant and Bryan Adams, to name a few.

His success came from being one of the best players in the sometimes shadowy game of record promotion. In the 1980s it truly was a game, according to record industry insiders, that often meant plying radio programmers with money, drugs and prostitutes in exchange for airplay of a label's newest record.

What is clear about Minor is that he was a smooth talker, a man who was often seen charming radio programmers with an expensive meal, some fine wine and a slap on the back.

But toward the end of his life, Minor had begun to re-evaluate his nonstop lifestyle. In the past five years, he had quit the drugs that are so common in the industry, cut down on drinking and put the brakes on the late-night partying.

At 47, handsome but graying at the temples, Minor had many reasons to re-examine his ways. His seven-year marriage had failed, and his position in the industry had dropped from promotion chief at A&M Records to a promotions executive at Hits, a music industry magazine.

And although he had quit most of his vices, Minor still seemed addicted to women.

"Charlie was a womanizer, no doubt about it," one friend said. "But you could also say he was a 'personizer' because he did it to everybody."

Minor was a playboy and a socialite who flaunted his Rolls-Royce, Armani suits and lunches at Le Dome as symbols of his success in an industry notorious for its extremes and extravagances.

"I'm not going to defend Charlie, because he wasn't a saint," said his longtime friend John Fagot, senior vice president of promotions for Hollywood Records. "But he enjoyed life better than anyone I've ever known."

But Minor was also a skilled and hard-working promoter who put in long hours entertaining radio programmers in expensive restaurants and trendy nightclubs.

"Charles was a natural PR guy," said Harold Childs, who hired Minor for A&M in 1970 from an Atlanta music publishing business. "He had that people thing. I'm not sure if I hired him or he hired me."

Those who worked with Minor describe the intense, get-it-done attitude he brought to an office. He would work three or four phone lines at once, bouncing from one call to the other without missing a beat. A&M co-founder Herb Albert nicknamed him "Jaws" for such talents.

Suzette McClure was sentenced to 19 years to life in prison. She's still in prison.



As a young man, Freddy Frank worked as an extra, mainly on every picture Bud Abbott and Lou Costello made. Costello, who allegedly had more than a gay streak in him, was especially intrigued with Freddy's penis.

Costello spread the word that it was the "Eighth Wonder of The World," using the same claim used by Chaplin about his own organ. If any interested party, male or female, on the set of one of Costello's comedies wanted to take a look, Costello, along with Freddy, would retire to his dressing room. Once there, Costello would unbutton Freddy's pants, and with a little hand manipulation, produce an astonishing fourteen inches (soft). Freddy also boasted that when it got fully erect, it was even larger (18 inches). If anyone needed proof, Costello would take out his tape measure for confirmation.

Freddy was paid way over scale as an extra and for these sideshow performance. Word spread across Hollywood. Many Hollywood celebrities hired Freddy as a waiter and "private entertainer" at their parties.


Freddy Frank is mentioned in several books by actors and agents of the 1930s-1960s, and also in several interviews given by noted celebrities of the time, such as Abbott and Costello. Frank was an extra, kept on the payroll (as a gigolo) for the studios to perform sexual services to starlets and male stars, including: Ava Gardner, Marilyn Monroe, Rock Hudson, Sal Mineo, Lana Turner, Mae West, Lucille Ball, Joan Crawford, Tallulah Bankhead and Lupe Veldez.

Frank was in several movies as an actor with Errol Flynn. They had several "measuring contests." Mae West, a notorious "size queen" stated she had never seen anyone like Frank. Milton Berle, who was also well endowed, 13.5" erect, was asked to put his endowment up against Frank but Berle always declined. Frank's fully hard erection was widely reported to be 18" long.

Source: Hollywood Babylon Strikes Back!


“Lance” is a short haul truck driver, with a route that includes southern Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland.

His job allows the brown-skinned, divorced father of two to (have sex with men) on the regular. In truck stops, in the cab of his semi, or in the houses of guys he hooks up with.

Lance, who was always curious about male genitalia but got his first taste in the military, is an insatiable bottom. He loves to get pounded for hours and even brings rope with him in his overnight bag so guys can tie him up and have their way with him.

Who is to say he won’t meet a mass murderer during his travels who will tie him up and knock him off. Lance doesn’t seem to care about danger as long as there is a promise of a stiff d*ck.

“I’m a flat out freak and I love it,” he says.

But Lance doesn’t fit the profile of a typical down-low brother because, well, he isn’t down-low. His current girlfriend, a white chick from rural Pennsylvania, knows all about his yen for bottoming.

In fact, she encourages him to go out and satisfy his cravings, as long he comes home and gives her all the details, including how big was the d*ck, how the black man looked and how did the d*ck feel feel.

Evidently this must get her excited — he claims they still have an active sex life.


Juan Garrido (above-far left) of West Africa was a free black man who was known as a conquistador. In the early 1500’s, Garrido led a life that was uncharacteristic of a black man in that time period. In 1503, Garrido went on his first expedition to Hispaniola and was present for the 1508 expedition with Ponce de Leon against Puerto Rico. He was paid well for his deeds with money and land. Garrido would travel with De Leon again in 1513 and 1521.

Juan Garrido was born in the 1480’s and according to research by Dr. Henry Louis Gates, Jr., he was either “sold to Portugese slave traders or somehow traveled on his own to Lisbon.” After moving to Seville shortly before 1500, Garrido was possibly connected to a man named Pedro Garrido.

Known to use the work of slaves for himself, Juan Garrido became a gold miner, and a slave hunter. He was also employed as a guard of the Mexico City government and a city caretaker. Garrido joined the Spaniards in many raids, claiming lands like Florida, in the name of Spain. As a participant of the conquests of Spain, Garrido financed the trips himself. It wasn’t until 1538 that he petitioned the Spanish Crown for financial support.

Through the path of his expeditions with Ponce De Leon, Garrido came to be the first African to enter what would become the United States. He could be referred to as the first African American.

There are 16th century paintings depicting Juan Garrido, in which he was mistaken as a slave, like one in which he is holding a pike, standing next to a horse belonging to Hernan Cortes.

Juan Garrido explored a final expedition in 1533 with Cortes to Baja California before he passed away in 1536.


Vice President Version of Sally Hemming's & Thomas Jefferson:

Despite his credentials as a war hero and a Kentucky senator, Vice President Richard M. Johnson was never accepted in Washington. Perhaps that's because he dressed like a farmhand, cursed like a sailor, and made no secret of his three black mistresses, who were also his slaves.

The first mistress bore him two daughters before she passed away; the second tried to run off with a Native American chief, but Johnson captured her and resold her; and the third was the second one's sister.

Johnson attempted to introduce this third mistress into polite society, but the couple wasn't well-received. With the support of Andrew Jackson, Johnson landed the vice presidency under Martin Van Buren in 1836. After four years of public relations disasters, Jackson withdrew his support. Nonetheless, Van Buren kept Johnson on his ticket, and the two lost their re-election bid in 1840.

After his father died, Richard Johnson inherited Julia Chinn, a slave. Johnson began a relationship with her and treated her as his common-law wife. They were prohibited from marrying because she was a slave. When Johnson was away from his Kentucky plantation, he authorized Chinn to manage his business affairs. She died in an epidemic of cholera in the summer of 1833.

Johnson and Chinn had two daughters, Adaline (or Adeline) Chinn Johnson and Imogene Chinn Johnson, whom he acknowledged and gave his surname. He provided for their education. Both daughters married white men. Johnson gave them large farms as dowries from his own holdings.


Very little is known about Madeline "Sahji" Jackson.

She was the top exotic dancer (Black or White) in the 1940's and was pursued by White millionaires, White gangsters and blues singers.

She ignored them and quietly married a Black musician in the Earl Hinds band. Despite her marriage, she remained a mystery offstage.

Not only was she a stripper, she was also a vocalist with a large following in South America, Europe and Canada where she was paid upwards to six figures per year ($1 million in today's dollars).

Her cousin was Margot Webb (headline dancer) at the Cotton Club.

Although Madeline appeared in the 1947 movie, "Jivin' in Bebop," with Dizzy Gillespie, not much else is known about the beautiful exotic dancer. The film was no more than a string of musical performances pieced together.

As quickly as she became an overnight sensation-overseas, she vanished from the public eye just as quickly.

Whereabouts unknown.


In 1944, Fat Leonard Caifano figured there was money to be made in the "wheel Games" run in the Black neighborhoods, but nobody was really sure how much money could be had in the racket, since the bosses, two generations apart Caifano and Sam Giancana, had no use for Chicago's Blacks or their money. But, over the years, a few independent hoods had ventured into the business early and got rich. Guys like the Benvenuti Brothers, Caesar and Leo, who, according to their tax returns, each cleared $105,000 from the Chicago wheel game in late 1949.

It was the Benvenuti's who did in Winston Howard, a Black policy king and close friend of Marva Lewis, Joe Lewis' ex-wife, after he refused to knuckle under and leave town. But otherwise, the gambling and vice operations in the Black neighborhoods on the South side were left untouched by the mob. As a result, controlling most of the wheel games and other vice operation in the black neighborhoods were the fabulous Jones Brothers (pictured above).

The Jones boys were the sons of a Black (high yella) Baptist minister from the South who came to Chicago and died shortly afterwards, leaving a widow and three sons, Edward, George and McKissack. From a $16,000 life insurance policy, the boys' mother set her sons up in the taxi cab business, one of the few that operated on the South side.

The taxi business boomed and the eldest Jones boy, Edward, a former Club Car Porter for Twentieth Century Limited, drifted into the policy game. He started at the bottom, as a slip runner and, after he had learned the business, persuaded his mother to lend him $15,000 to start his own wheel. She did, and by the late thirties, the Jones brother's wheel was doing $10,000 to $15,000 a day. It grew because unlike other gamblers in the black neighborhoods, Jones paid off on time and in full. No excuses.

The Jones brothers funneled their cash into legitimate businesses and real estate, enough so that they became the biggest source of ready cash inside the Black belt.

They purchased the huge Ben Franklin department store on 47th Street, which employed 150 people. However, it was little more than a front for the Jones brothers' policy bank. They also bought an enormous food store at 43rd and Prairie and several large apartment buildings all over the South Side and in the late 1930s they added the Vienna, the Grove, the Garfield and the Alpha to their holdings to go along with their villa in France, where their mother Harriet lived, a summer estate in Peoria and another villa in Mexico, just outside Mexico City, the brothers' favorite vacation spot.

Then the entire family had chauffeured limos and lived in enormous mansions, Eddie designing and building his own twenty-one-room digs on South Michigan with custom-made French provincial furniture and gold bathroom fixtures. His wife Lydia was a former beauty queen in the Cotton Club Chorus line, who wore satin or mink every day.

They could afford it. Between 1933 and 1938, they had spent a remarkable $2,772,191.10 but paid taxes on about half that amount. But they didn't spend it all, the money was tucked away in savings accounts, government secured bonds, industrial bonds, commercial real estate and about $1.6 million in various stocks.

The Jones were light skinned, powerful and popular figures inside the Black belt. They were better educated and better mannered then most policy gangsters and cared little, if at all, for the residents of the Black belt except to take their money. They were notorious cheapskates and trusted no one from the Black belt to hold a position inside their operations. As a result, all of their key people were white, and in the end that cost them everything.

In the early 1930s, Billy Skidmore created a shake down market whereas he approached the policy kings like the Jones. He assured them that for the paltry sum of $250 a week, the mob would not interfere in their rackets. Then went to mob, paid them half the $250 and had them agree not to invade the Jones business though it had never occurred to them to try it anyway.

By 1938, Skidmore had hundreds of deals in place with pimps, prostitutes, rouge cops and burglars. A year later, Skidmore and his partner, Bill Johnson, ran as many as nineteen major gambling casinos in the city and their biggest customer was Edward P. Jones. "a man who never wore the same suit twice, lived in oriental splendor and had a credit rating of $1,000,000 with the Chicago banks."

Skidmore persuaded Eddie Jones to teach Sam Giancana (above) about the numbers racket on the Black south side. Jones, a braggart with nothing but time on his hands and eager to impress the young Giancana, gave detailed lessons that included time, dates, places and figures. There were, Jones bragged, about thirty policy games going on in Chicago, and Jones had the largest one called the Maine-Idaho-Ohio, the names given to these games were meaningless like Calcutta-Green Dragon, the Erie Buffalo, the Harlem, the Bronx, the Whirlaway-Jackpot, the Beans-Ham and Gravy; they were only given names because the bettors liked to believe that one game was luckier than the next.

The wheels, Jones said, had two drawings a day, afternoon and night, bets were picked up every two hours by wheel men. The station operation got 25% of the total bets placed at his book, and the house got the rest. The win factor was 99%.

Giancana, a man gifted with the ability to see the big picture, sat and listened in awe. He understood everything. So did Billy Skidmore, who, cutting himself in for a third, helped Giancana map out a takeover of the Black policy rackets in the city and by the time Giancana was released from jail, he was a policy game expert and was armed with a foolproof plan.

Billy Skidmore never left prison. He died of a heart attack in his cell on the morning of February 18, 1944. Two years later in 1946, Momo Giancana was released from jail, and went straight to Paul Ricca with his idea to take over the Black policy games, but Ricca and Accardo were caught up in the Bioff scandal and its aftermath, and in their own efforts to tie up gambling across the city to listen to Giancana's ideas, although they did give it their approval.

Lenny Caifano was very interested in Giancana's new idea. For the past several months he had been moving in on some of the smaller wheels on the South Side's fringe. Now, armed with Giancana's astounding inside information on the wheel games, Caifano and Giancana traveled back to Indiana to approach cash rich Eddie Jones with an idea to corner the vending machine business across the city. The vending business, relatively new then, was perfect for wise guys because it was a cash business which meant they could steal most of the profits off the top before paying taxes. They envisioned a huge operation with thousands of cigarette, soda and novelty machines across the city. But it would take big money to set up and Jones had the cash.

Jones liked what he heard and he was eager to do business with the mob and sent orders from prison to his brother George to start bankrolling Giancana. In the meantime, Giancana and Fat Lenny supplemented their income with counterfeiting gas and food rationing stamps which gave them enough cash to move from the patch to fashionable Oak Park for Giancana and to a Gold Coast apartment for Caifano.

Of course neither the Caifano's nor Giancana had any real interest in sharing their business with Jones, but they led him on, and Giancana went out of his way to get closer to Jones who kept his word and provided the hoods with the money they needed to set up their vending business.

Flush with cash, Giancana and Caifano started buying pin ball machines, juke boxes and vending machines and appointed another 42 gang member, Chuckie English, to manage the operation. In turn, English brought in Joey Glimco, Willie "Potatoes" Daddano, Joe "Gags" Gagliano, Dave Yara and Lenny Patrick, to oversee distribution of the machines. Within six months, the operation employed about 500 people city wide.

While their 12,000 jukeboxes, cigarette and pin ball machines were legal, most of the products sold out of the machine, soda, candy, records and cigarettes were stolen from warehouse or delivery trucks around the city.

English took charge of the skimming, which was done on a fifty-fifty basis with the store owner who provided the space for the machine, Giancana and the others took their profit, an estimated $8,000,000 a year, and accountants fixed the book to show that the business actually lost money, thus avoiding any taxes.

Although he wrote off the payments, during the first year in business Giancana failed to make a single repayment on the loan that he and Caifano had made from Eddie Jones. Nor, for that matter, did they cut Jones in for a piece of the take. In fact, in May of 1946, the boys showed Jones how much he appreciated what he had done for him by kidnapping him off a Chicago Street and holding him for a ransom. They released him five days later at the corner of Loomis and 62nd Street, adhesive tape over his eyes, cotton stuffed in his ears. George Jones paid the $100,000 ransom to release his brother. That was enough for Jones. He retired to Mexico and entered the car business, and the mob took over the policy racket on the South Side with Paul Ricca placing the Manno brothers in charge.

Ricca and Accardo still didn't put much stock in the rumors that the Black policy racket would produce "more money than you could count" as Giancana had promised them it would. Or, at least they didn't until November of 1946, when Tom Manno drove Ricca and Accardo to a basement counting room where the results from the Black policy were counted. What they saw was money stacked to the ceiling in neat little piles that almost filled the room. Six years later, in 1952 the Manno brothers and their partner Sam Pardy were jailed for evading $2,000,000 in taxes from their policy racket, and that was only their 15% portion of the take.

Accardo ordered all stops pulled out. He wanted the Black policy business under his control, and he wanted in line by January 1947. Giancana said he could do it, but there was one problem: Teddy Roe (above), a cocky, mulatto who never liked nor trusted Giancana or the Caifano brothers and he had no intention of giving up his operation to them.

After Jones fled Chicago, Roe took over all of the gambling on Roosevelt Road and Halstead streets and everything in between, and while Roe operated everything from loan sharking to simple handbooks, most of his money was made through wheel games, about $1,120,413.00 per year, all of it in pennies, nickels and dimes.

And Roe had no intention of handing it over to Giancana and Caifano. In one six month period in 1946, a total of twelve mob guys and an unknown number of Roe's thugs showed up dead on Chicago's streets and back alleys. Roe was outgunned by Fat Lenny Caifano and his boys who took over more and more gambling joints in the Black wards every day, setting up bookie operations anywhere they could, from neighborhood taverns and barbershops to church parking lots.

It was just too much money for the outfit not to control.

The fact was, they didn't want to kill Teddy Roe. Right after Jones left, Fat Lenny Caifano tried to work out a partnership agreement with Roe, who refused to even meet with Caifano. So Caifano bombed his house, fired shots at his wife and children and beat up his collectors, but still Roe fought back.

Roe's survival only made him a living legend in the Black community and as a result, more and more people came to place their bets with him. Giancana met with Roe and offered him $250,000 in cash to quit the policy rackets. "I'll die first," Roe answered. "Well, buddy boy," Giancana replied, "you just might."

In the early summer of 1951, Fat Lenny and Marshal Caifano rented the yacht Lady Lu, moored it at Burnham Harbor on the South side and for several days met with Momo Giancana, Fifi Buccieri and Vincent Ioli to discuss kidnapping Teddy Roe. It was decided that they would follow Roe for several days to determine his schedule. Once that was established, they would run him off the road, kidnap him, and then kill him once the ransom was paid.

On the June 19, 1951, Roe and his bodyguards, three off-duty Chicago cops, were driving home when the driver looked into his rearview mirror and spotted a set of bright headlights flashing behind him. The driver sped up but Roe ordered him to pull the car over to the side of the road. Roe and two of his guards stepped out of the car and walked up to the Chevy that carried Fat Lenny and Marshal Caifano and Vincent Ioli.

There are two versions of what happened next. One version, the likely version, was the Caifano/Ioli story that Fat Lenny had flashed his lights at Roe's car and pulled over to the side of the road in hopes of beginning another dialogue with the Black gambler.

The other version, the cop's version, was that after Roe stepped from his car surrounded by four gunmen, Fat Lenny drew a pistol from the car's seat, a dozen shots rang out and Fat Lenny took one to the center of the head. Although it was actually one of the cops who fired the fatal shot, Roe took credit for the killing and was arrested but the charges were dropped.

After Fat Lenny's murder, Sam Giancana, with the full power of the Outfit behind him, led a month long terror campaign through the Black neighborhoods of Chicago where Roe was hiding out. Dozens were shot at or blackjacked, a lot of Black hoodlums simply disappeared and others left town for ever.

Roe was holed up in his mansion on South Michigan Avenue, protected by a small army of hired goons. But it was over and he knew. On August 1, 1952, Roe was told by doctors that he had incurable cancer. After that, Roe stopped hiding. He dismissed his bodyguard, and on August 4, 1952, he dressed in a three-piece suit and hat and strolled down South Michigan Avenue. They killed him with eight shots to the head before he reached the other side of the street.

He received a hero's burial with his minister eulogizing him as a credit to his race. Even Sam Giancana admired Roe for his nerve and over the years they spoke about him often. In the early 1970s, an FBI microphone picked up Giancana discussing Roe: "I'll say this, that bastard went out like a man. He had balls. It was a fuck'n shame to kill him."


The last man to hold the title of numbers kingpin was former Chicago gang leader Henry "Mickey Cobb" Cogwell (above). During the mid 70s Mickey became the first black boss in the policy business since the murder of Teddy Roe.

Cobb used muscle provided by the Black P-Stone Nation a collection of Chicago street gangs numbering in the thousands. Utterly unconcerned about reprisal attacks from an aging Chicago mob, Cobb used his position as President of Local 304 of the Hotel and Restaurant Workers Union as his front in the numbers business. Mickey's runners were seen making drops at Union headquarters.

Like Roe, Mickey Cobb was shot in the back in front of his home in February 1977 effectively ending the reign of the last black power figure in the numbers racket.

*Part 2 tomorrow.

Source: Mob Files


Detroit Michigan:

In short order Dan "The Man" Jackson opened a casino in the Pekin Theater and simultaneously expanded the size of the small casino he had run for years in the parlor of the family undertaking business located in the 2600 block of South State street.

Toward the end of his career, Jackson served as the link between black belt gamblers and Mayor Big Bill Thompson. Jackson by this time had condensed his gambling interests to a small casino known as the Dunbar club on South Michigan Ave.

While maintaining a low profile yet powerful presence in gaming circles, Jackson began to focus on political action as prohibition and racial strife severely curbed the profits made in the saloons and gambling houses located in the black belt.

More and more black belt racketeers depended on the numbers game to subsidize their income. Jackson of course was the man they turned to in order to keep the path clear for their runners, collectors and bankers.

Dan Jackson also supported the Kelly boys. This trio of brothers ran one of the most successful policy wheels during the early 20s. From their headquarters on 29th and State streets, the brothers "Illy, Ross and Kelly," fortunes swung wildly soaring at times and bottoming out months later forcing the trio out of business. In the best of times, the Kelly's Tia Juana wheel earned thousands of dollars daily much of which was then passed onto Dan Jackson for for distribution at city hall.

As the Kelly boys gained valuable experience Illy Kelly (pictured directly above) emerged as the undisputed leader of the group. At his urging the brothers opened other thriving wheels such as the Lucky Strike, Lake Michigan and Greyhound which provided them with enough operating capitol to open a string of gambling houses and blind pigs. Part of the cash flow problem the Kelly's often experienced stemmed from their generous nature. The polished well educated trio went out of their way to serve as benefactors to the patrons of their wheels and gambling establishments often paying rent, buying groceries and clothing for needy families. These acts of generosity were repaid as the denizens of the Bronzeville religiously supported the Kelly brothers operations without fail.

During the heyday of the numbers racket, wheel operators were cornerstones in their community. Some managed to obtain mainstream respectability like realtor Julian Black and his partner John Roxborough who directed the career of Heavyweight boxing legend Joe Louis. Most were unknown to all but a few who firmly believed their ticket to a better life lay on the slip of paper they received in exchange for their nickels and dimes.


Vulnerable black children in some of New York's poorest districts are being forced to take part in HIV drug trials.

During a nine month investigation, the BBC uncovered the disturbing truth about the way authorities in New York City are conducting the fight against AIDS.

HIV positive children-some only a few months old-are enrolled in toxic experiments without the consent of guardians or relatives.

In some cases where parents have refused to give children their medication, they have been placed in care.

The city's Administration of Children's Services (ACS) does not even require a court order to place HIV kids with foster parents or in children's homes, where they can continue to give them experimental drugs.

The Incarnation Children's Center-a children's home in Harlem - was at the hub of controversy over secretive drugs trials.

Jamie Doran (a reporter) spoke to a boy (above) who spent most of his life at Incarnation. Medical records, obtained prove the boy had been enrolled in these trials.

"I did not want to take my medication," said the boy, "but if you want to get out of there, you have to do what they say."

He also conveys a horrifying account of what happened to the children at Incarnation who refused to obey the rules. "My friend Daniel didn't like to take his medicine and he got a tube in his stomach," he said.

Dr. David Rasnick from the University of Berkeley who has studied the effects of HIV drugs on patients - particularly children - says these drugs are "lethal."

"The young are not completely developed yet," he says. "The immune system isn't completely mature until a person's in their teens."

So why are these children targeted? Is it simply because they cannot defend themselves?

At the beginning of this investigation, the ACS said that no child was selected for trials without a long process of decision making, but declined to comment further. The ACS has exceptionally strong legal muscle over the city's kids.

For months, the BBC tried to get information from the people responsible for the trials, but none would comment.

The companies that supply drugs for the trials are among the world's largest, including Britain's own Glaxo SmithKline (GSK).



Rudy Lewis had a nice voice, he was handsome and he was gay. He went to great lengths to hide his sexuality and he became a tortured soul. Before his untimely death in 1964, he wanted to pursue a solo career but put it off because he feared fans would find out lifestyle. Allegedly, he was secretly involved with another famous R&B singer. The discretion drove Lewis to drugs and alcohol.


Rudy Lewis, above-far right was a lead singer, known for his work with The Drifters. In 1988, he was posthumously inducted into the Rock and

Lewis began his singing career in gospel music. He was one of only two males to have sung with the Clara Ward Singers, and sang with the gospel group right up to the day before he auditioned for George Treadwell at Philadelphia's Uptown Theater, where he was hired on the spot. Lewis joined the Drifters as lead vocalist, replacing departed group member Ben E. King, and ended up performing most of King's repertoire live in concert.

Lewis was the lead vocalist on an string of hits: "Please Stay," "Some Kind of Wonderful," "Up On The Roof" and "On Broadway."

Lewis was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He moved to New York City, NY at the age of 24, after joining the Drifters. According to Billy Vera, Lewis was a closeted homosexual, addicted to heroin and suffered from binge eating disorder. It was kept secret from the general public until the release of the liner notes of the CD box set Rockin & Driftin: The Drifters Box (1996).

On May 21, 1964, when the group was due to record ”Under The Boardwalk," which had been written for Lewis, he was found dead in his Harlem hotel room from the prior night. Former lead vocalist Johnny Moore was brought back to perform lead vocals for the recording. The next day, the Drifters recorded ”I Don't Want To Go On Without You”, which was led by Charlie Thomas, in tribute to Lewis. Charlie

Thomas was the one who closed Lewis' eyes when he was found dead.

An autopsy was never performed and authorities ruled his death as a probable drug overdose. However, close friends and family believe he died from a mixture of a drug overdose, asphyxiation and a heart attack. Dying at the age of 27 made Lewis the sixth member of "Club 27."


The three "Briley Brothers" (Anthony Ray Briley, James Dyral Briley, Jr. and Linwood Earl Briley) were responsible for a spree killing in Richmond, Virginia in 1979 that lasted seven months before their arrest.


The brothers were born to a stable home with two parents in Northeastern Richmond, Virginia. With their younger sibling Anthony, Linwood and James were regarded by older neighbors as people who would help neighbors repair cars or mow lawns.

The three boys collected exotic pets, such as tarantulas, piranhas, and boa constrictors. It is also alleged that all three brothers engaged in zoosadism. Their father, James Briley, Sr., was unnerved enough by their behavior that he kept his bedroom door padlocked from the inside overnight. James Sr. was the only person the brothers feared.

In 1971, the first killing was committed by (then) 16-year-old Linwood. While alone at home one day, he took aim with a rifle from his bedroom window and fatally shot Orline Christian, an elderly next door neighbor, as she passed by his window sill. The crime almost went undetected; however, her curious relatives noticed a small bloody mark on her back at the viewing and asked the funeral director to re-examine the body.

Upon a second examination, the director found a small caliber bullet wound in her back. Police investigators were contacted and they sought to find the source of the gunshot. Standing at the open window in her home where Mrs. Christian had been killed, a detective used a sheet of plywood to represent her body, with a hole cut out to represent the bullet wound.

He soon determined that the bullet could only have come from the Briley home next door. There, the murder weapon was found and Linwood admitted to the crime with indifference: "I heard she had heart problems, she would have died soon anyway."

Linwood was sent to reform school to serve a one-year sentence for the killing. His young brother, James or "J.B." followed in his path at the same age, having been sentenced to time in juvenile hall for having pulled a gun and fired upon a police officer during a pursuit.

In 1979, the three Briley brothers and an accomplice, Duncan Meekins, began the seven-month series of random killings that terrified the city and the surrounding region.

Their first attack occurred on March 12, when Linwood knocked on the door of Henrico County couple William and Virginia Bucher. Claiming that he had car trouble and needed to use their telephone, Linwood eventually forced his way into their home. At this point, he held the couple at gun point and waved his brother Anthony inside. The two Brileys tied up the couple and robbed the house, dousing each room with kerosene after picking it clean of valuables.

As they left, a lit match was tossed on the fuel. The two hurriedly packed their stolen loot – a television, CB radio, and jewelry into their trunk and drove out of the area. They were not around when Mr. Bucher managed to free himself and his wife from their restraints and escape just before the house became engulfed in flames. They would be the sole survivors of the rampage.

Michael McDuffie, a vending machine serviceman, was murdered by the brothers at his suburban home on March 21. The brothers first assaulted McDuffie, before shooting him dead and stealing his valuables.

On April 9, the brothers followed 76-year-old Mary Gowen across town from her babysitting job. They followed her into her house to rape and murder her. The brothers escaped the residence with many of her valuables.

The gang saw seventeen-year-old Christopher Philips hanging around Linwood Briley's parked car on July 4. Suspecting that he might have been trying to steal the vehicle, the gang surrounded him and dragged him into a nearby backyard. There the three brothers wrestled him to the ground. When Philips screamed for help, Linwood murdered him by dropping a cinder block on his skull.

On September 14, disc jockey John "Johnny G." Gallaher was performing with his band at a South Richmond nightclub. Stepping outside between sets for a break, he inadvertently came right into the hands of the Briley brothers. Having been looking around town for a victim all night without success, they decided to lie-in-wait for whoever might happen to step outside.

Gallaher was assaulted by Linwood and then put into the trunk of his own Lincoln Continental. He was then driven out to Mayo Island in the middle of the James River, where the remnants of an abandoned paper mill stood. There, he was removed from the trunk of his Lincoln Continental and shot dead at point blank range in the head. His body was then dumped into the river. The remains were found two days later. When arrested months later, Linwood was still wearing a ring stolen from Gallaher's hand.

On September 30, 62-year-old private nurse Mary Wilfong was followed home to her Richmond apartment. The brothers surrounded her just outside the door and Linwood beat her to death with a baseball bat. The brothers then entered her apartment and robbed it of valuables.

Several days later on October 5, just two blocks from the Briley home on 4th Avenue in Richmond, 79-year-old Blanche Page and her 59-year-old boarder Charles Garner were both brutally murdered by the brothers. Page was bludgeoned to death while Garner was fatally assaulted with a variety of weapons, which included a baseball bat, five knives, a pair of scissors, and a fork. The scissors and fork were left embedded in Garner's back.

The final murders occurred against a long time neighborhood friend of the brothers, Harvey Wilkerson and his family. On the morning of October 19, having promised a judge earlier that day that he would stay out of trouble while out on parole for a 1973 robbery and malicious wounding conviction, J.B. led his brothers on the prowl for yet another victim that night.

Upon seeing the brothers down the street, Wilkerson, who lived with his 23-year-old wife Judy Barton (who was five months pregnant at the time) and her 5-year-old son Harvey, instinctively closed and locked his door. This action was noticed by the brothers, who then walked over to Wilkerson's front door. Terrified by their response if he refused them entry, Wilkerson allowed them in.The brothers preyed on people that were scared and/or intimidated by them.

Both adults in the home were overpowered, bound and gagged with duct tape. Linwood Briley then assaulted Judy Barton into the kitchen, where she was raped within hearing distance of the others.

Fellow gang member Duncan Meekins (their next door neighbor who 13 years old at the time) continued the sexual assault, after which Linwood dragged Barton back into the living room, briefly rummaged the premises for valuables, and then left the house.

The three remaining gang members covered their victims with sheets. J.B. told Meekins, "you've got to get one", at which point Meekins took a pistol and fatally shot Harvey Wilkerson in the head. J.B. then shot Barton to death.

Police happened to be in the general vicinity of the neighborhood, and later saw the gang members running down the street at high speed. They did not know where the shots had been fired. The bodies were not discovered until three days following the crime, but the brothers were all arrested soon afterwards.

During interrogation by police, Duncan Meekins was offered a plea agreement in return for turning state's evidence against the Brileys. He took the offer and offered a full detailing of the crime spree; as a result, he escaped the death penalty and was incarcerated at a Virginia prison away from any of the Briley brothers.

The plea agreement gave him a sentence of life plus 80 years, which at the time of conviction would make him eligible for parole after serving 12–15 years. Duncan Meekins is still in prison awaiting parole; both the (former) case prosecutors and the detective who arrested him are publicly advocating his release to the parole board.

A single life sentence with parole eligibility was handed down to Anthony Briley, youngest brother of the trio, due to his limited involvement in the killings.

Because of Virginia's "triggerman statute," both J.B. and Linwood received numerous life sentences for murders committed during the spree, but faced capital charges only in cases where they had physically committed the actual killing of the victim.

Linwood was sentenced to death for the abduction and murder of John Gallaher, while J.B. received two death sentences, one for each of the murders of Judy Barton and her son Harvey.

A Richmond judge presiding at one of the trials summed up the case following the verdict, "This was the vilest rampage of rape, murder and robbery that the court has seen in thirty years."

Both were sent to death row at Mecklenburg Correctional Center near Boydton in early 1980. While there, they were disruptive inmates who used their guile and physical prowess to threaten both fellow inmates and officers. A flourishing drug and weapon trade operated in the prison under their leadership.

Linwood and J.B. Briley were the ringleaders in the six inmate escape from Virginia's death row at Mecklenburg Correctional Center on May 31, 1984. During the early moments of the escape, in which a coordinated effort resulted in inmates taking over the death row unit, both Brileys expressed strong interest in killing the captured guards by dousing them with rubbing alcohol and tossing a lit match.

Willie Lloyd Turner, another death row inmate, stepped in the way of James Briley and forbade him from doing so. Meanwhile, cop killer Wilbert Lee Evans prevented Linwood Briley from raping a female nurse who had been taken hostage while en route to delivering medication to inmates in the unit.

The group's initial plan was to escape into Canada. Two inmates, Lem Tuggle and Willie Jones almost succeeded, making it as far as Vermont before being captured at gunpoint by police. The group was held at Marble Valley Correctional Facility in Rutland, pending their extradition back to Virginia.

Splitting off from their two remaining free escapees at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, the Brileys went to live near their uncle in the north of the city. They were captured on June 19 by a heavily armed group of FBI agents and police, who had determined their location by placing wiretaps on their uncle's phone line. Returned to Richmond, Virginia, few sought to plead for the Brileys lives to be spared.

In short order, the remaining appeals ran out for both brothers. They were executed in the electric chair at the Virginia State Penitentiary in Richmond. Linwood was put to death in Virginia's electric chair on October 12, 1984. James Briley was executed in the same manner on April 18 of the following year.

Linwood is survived by one son, Norman Laquan Ampy, who is currently serving time in prison for bank robbery. James is survived by 3 daughters, who live in Richmond. The two brothers are buried at the Council cemetery in Bethel, North Carolina.

Their younger brother Anthony remains incarcerated in Virginia's corrections system and comes up for parole consideration every few years. To date, all his applications for parole have been denied by the state parole board.


The term 'Eunuch' almost always refers to castrated men-usually young males who were captured and sold into slavery who suffered the atrocity of having their penis and testicles cut off.

The idea was if the genitals were removed, the eunuch would have nothing left to offer anyone else outside of dedication to their captors-plantation owners and the royal families to which they were bound.

They wouldn't leave and start their own families because they couldn't. Society viewed them as "less than" so they were servants for life seen simultaneously as trustworthy and easily expendable in cultures with harems where they became favored guards and religious instructors.

Still, the most attractive among them were captured with the express purpose of becoming "men servants" trained in the art of fellatio (and other sexual pleasures). In some ancient translations of religious and historical texts, individuals identified as eunuchs seem to include men who were impotent with women, those we call transgendered or homosexual today, and those who were simply celibate.

Further definitions include men who are "incapable of marriage," not sexually attracted to women, or unwilling to marry females.


On "Scandal," Joe Morton portrays Olivia's father (Eli Pope).

Eli is a super secret espionage powerbroker who answers to no one; including the President of the United States.

This character is loosely based on Emmanuel "Toto" Constant (pictured above).

Constant headed "FRAPH," a slew of operatives and former special forces soldiers who operated in Haiti among other places.

This elite assassination/death squad was known for murder-for-hire, torture, beatings and explosives.

Constant admitted being a paid agent for the CIA.

He's currently serving a very long prison sentence.


by: John T. Edge


Blanche was known around town by her first name only. She was a good time girl whom everyone loved and respected but Blanche had a dark secret. Blanche was also affiliated with "The Garage." Guest's Garage was involved with White Slavery, pills and bootlegging. Guest’s Garage was also the alleged home base for the Klan security patrol, a group of four to six men, some of whom were known to wear side arms and drive about town with KKK placards fixed to the sides of their cars.

Blanche also belonged to the ladies auxiliary of the KKK.

Blanche's racist associates are accused of murdering Lemuel Penn (pictured above).


Throughout the 1960's-1980's, "Blanche’s Open House," in Athens Georgia served platters of eggs, bacon, sausage and grits.

Set on the seedy side of downtown, between a tire plant and a coin-operated Laundromat, Blanche’s Open House was the place to be late at night. Though Blanche opened at nine each evening, the real action started around one or two in the morning, after the bars closed, after the frat parties began to peter out.

The floor was a checkerboard of red and white tiles. At one time the interior walls had probably been painted white, but years of cigarette smoke had rendered the bricks a dull beige. If there were posters or paintings, I can't recall them. A jukebox stocked with George Jones and Parliament Funkadelic (which is a surprise) hunkered by the front window. Seven red vinyl stools faced a scarred linoleum counter, behind which Blanche worked the grill and the cash register. On a typical Friday night the wait for one of the eight tables approached an hour, and on football Saturdays the line stretched out the door and onto the sidewalk. The food, as I recall, was greasy but generous.

Blanche was a cross between Minnie Pearl and Daisy Mae with a fondness for wearing silk tops and a tremulous voice that sounded like a buzz saw. She always had a lit cigarette dangling from her bottom lip. And all her sentences were punctuated by an expletive. When a patron tried to climb on top of the glass-fronted jukebox, she screamed, “Get down, goddamn it, or you’ll cut your damn fool legs off.”

For fraternity brothers and a host of other university students, "Blanche’s Open House," served as a kind of late-night purgatory, a holding tank where young drunks loaded up on grease and caffeine in an effort to ward off a hangover or stymie a Breathalyzer test. Sure, they heard that Blanche’s husband, Herbert Guest, had a troubled past, that he had been somehow implicated in a murder back in the 1960s, but the word was he had never been convicted. When patrons caught wind of rumors that Herbert was once active in the Klan and that the Open House had functioned as a gathering place for the local Klavern, they turned a deaf ear and ordered another cheeseburger. They figured: What right did we have to stir up the past?

Across town, Martin Luther King, Jr. ate smoke-charred ribs at Aleck’s Barbecue Heaven while his lieutenants plotted marches and sit-ins, kneel-ins and wade-ins. King associates in Mississippi wolfed down pig ear sandwich's at Jackson, Mississippi’s Big Apple Inn and listened as the owner regaled me with stories of the days when the NAACP field secretary Medgar Evers kept his office upstairs. Ben’s Chili Bowl (was also a favorite of Civil Rights activists).

Newspaper archives place Guest, Phillips, Lackey, Myers, and Sims as frequenting the "Open House," restaurant, hangout for rabid Klansmen located at 234 West Hancock Street at various times between twelve zero one a.m. and five thirty a.m., July eleven last.

The matter being investigated was the murder of Lemuel Penn (pictured above), a black Army Reserve officer. During the early morning hours of July 11, 1964, Penn, en route from Fort Benning in Georgia, to his home in Washington, D.C., was killed near a bridge twenty-two miles north of Athens. A shotgun blast blew out the back of his head. According to newspaper accounts of the day, he was singled out by the Klan for the color of his skin and the out-of-state license plate bolted to the bumper of his car.

Accounts of the summer of 1964 almost invariably mention the "Open House." In June, Klansmen from the local 244 terrorized the residents of an Athens housing complex, firing shotguns, first into the air and then later into the back door of an apartment, striking a nineteen-year-old black man in the eye and a thirteen-year-old black girl in the lip. Herbert Guest -- described by the journalist William Bradford Huie as a “282-pound garage operator with a first grade education. . .blackhaired, with several front teeth missing” -- was arrested in the first round of shootings and charged with disorderly person. He paid a $105 fine. Paul Strickland, one of the triggerman dredged up an alibi: he claimed to be drinking coffee at the "Open House," when the shots were fired.

Almost eighty FBI agents descended on Athens during late July 1964. They canvassed residents of rural Madison County, where Penn was shot. They questioned college students who claimed to have purchased amphetamines from Guest’s Garage. They interviewed a man who spoke of buying bootleg whiskey from Guest and another man who claimed that the garage was involved in the white slavery trade, specifically the transport of prostitutes from Athens to Jacksonville, Florida. Guest’s Garage was also the alleged home base for the Klan security patrol, a group of four to six men, some of whom were known to wear side arms and drive about town with KKK placards fixed to the sides of their cars. A July 14 FBI memo described them as “ a terror group, ostensibly operating without the knowledge or approval of Klavern officials.”

The FBI knew Herbert Guest to be a Klansman, and they listed Blanche as one of eight members of the Ladies Auxiliary of the Ku Klux Klan. At the time of Penn’s murder, Blanche and Herbert worked together at Guest’s Garage, four blocks away from the Open House on West Hancock Street. The Open House was a regular stakeout sight. On the evening of July 19, FBI informants observed the following patrons at the restaurant: a filling station employee, a drive-in theater worker, several college students, a midget, two state patrolmen, one Athens policeman, and a man who bragged of “ hitting and killing a n*gger with his car.”

On August 6, suspect James Lackey confessed to FBI agents that he, Howard Sims, and Cecil Myers were on “security patrol” the morning of Lemuel Penn’s death. Lackey was driving, with Myers in the passenger seat and Sims in the back. Sims and Meyers were armed. According to witness interviews, they spent the majority of the evening shuttling back and forth between the Open House and Guest’s Garage until around four in the morning, when they spotted Penn’s car. “The original reason for our following the colored men,” Lackey told investigators, “was because we had heard that Martin Luther King might make Georgia a testing ground with the new Civil Rights bill. We thought some out-of-town n*ggers might stir up some trouble in Athens. . . . I had no idea they would really shoot the Negro.”

That same day, on the strength of Lackey’s confession, FBI agents arrested him along with Sims, Myers, and Herbert Guest -- who at the time was pegged as the ringleader of the group -- on federal charges of violating Penn’s civil rights. A state murder indictment followed for Lackey, Sims and Meyers. Conviction seemed inevitable. But by the time of the murder trial, Lackey and Guest repudiated their testimonies. On September 4, an all-white jury found the defendants not guilty of murder. Almost two years later Sims and Myers were convicted on the civil rights charges, but as far as the courts are concerned, the murder of Lemuel Penn remains unsolved.

Though Herbert Guest was never convicted in the Penn case, he did serve time for the sale of amphetamines -- a turn of events that compelled Blanche to try a new career. When Herbert headed for the federal penitentiary in late 1966, she closed the garage and bought the restaurant that her husband and his cronies had called home. She dubbed it Blanche’s Open House. Assisted by Herbert after his release from prison, Blanche operated the Open House until 1985, when she sold her lease to a man named Herbie Abroms, recently retired from a career in the ladies” apparel industry.


Berry Gordy wasn’t the only enterprising Black man in Detroit in the 50’s and 60’s. Another success story that is overshadowed by the folk lore romance with Motown is that of one Ed Wingate. Wingate was a successful businessman who owned a motel, several cafes, a taxi cab service, the extremely famous "Twenty Grand Supper Club," and "Golden World Records."

While Golden World Records was Motown Records’ chief rival, it was Berry Gordy who came to Ed Wingate and asked him to become his business partner at Motown. Motown had its first hit record with Smokey Robinson & the Miracles’, “Shop Around,” but Berry still needed more cash to keep up with his manufacturing costs and other business expenses.

Ed Wingate turned Berry Gordy’s partnership offer down. Why? Because Wingate intended to have the same success with Golden World Records he had achieved in his other businesses, especially the Twenty Grand, Detroit’s hottest night spot. The Twenty Grand is where all the Motown acts and musicians hung out and sat in, performing more music during their down time.

After all, the Twenty Grand was a stone’s throw away from Motown’s studios on West Grand Boulevard. Ed Wingate and his business partner, Joanne (Jackson) Bratton, created “the other Detroit music empire” and co-reigned with Motown for four short years, from 1962 to 1966. Joanne Jackson was a savvy businesswoman and considered one of the most beautiful black women in Detroit. She was also married to boxer Johnny Bratton (pictured above). It was unheard of for a businessman of any race to partner with a woman in the 1960's, Ed Wingate responded: "She's the smartest person I know regardless of gender."

Golden World and its subsidiary labels, Ric-Tic and Wingate Records, flaunted such dynamic acts as J.J. Barnes (Ortheia Barnes’ brother), The Fantastic Four, Pat Lewis, Edwin Starr, The Holidays, Steve Mancha (recorded “I’ll Love You Forever” with Edwin Starr and J.J. Barnes but was never featured as a Golden World artist), The Debonaires, The Parliaments (with an “s” at the time), The Reflections, Theresa Lindsey, The Sam Remo Golden Strings, The Detroit Emeralds, Gino Washington, Flaming Embers (on Motown changed name to Flaming Ember and had the hit, “Westbound #9”), Laura Lee, Carl Carlton and Freddie Gorman (later became Baritone/Bass singer for The Originals).

In 1966, Berry Gordy bought out Golden World Records; I guess Berry made Ed and Joanne an offer they couldn’t refuse. Motown continued the Ric Tic label for a couple of years and utilized Golden World’s recording facility on West Davison as their “Studio B” to the famed Hitsville Studio on West Grand Blvd. The end of an era of excitement came to pass and shortly thereafter, in 1972, Motown moved its operations to Los Angeles, California and Detroit has been trying to reignite its music industry ever since.

Would Motown have been as big if they wouldn’t have had Golden World chasing them? Did Ed Wingate’s success as a business mogul motivate Berry Gordy to be the best in his own town, let alone the world? After selling his Golden World assets to Motown in 1966, Ed Wingate never returned to the music business. He spent his last years living in Las Vegas and passed away in 2006 at the age of 86 (obituary above).

There were some extremely talented singers, songwriters, producers, musicians and arrangers who all traveled in a small circle, working together from project to project. It was an explosive musical Renaissance period in Detroit. You see the beginnings of greatness for countless artists who had an OULET for their Artistic Expression. To have been an intricate part of that period of explosive creativity had to make some of these artists who still create today, like George Clinton, the geniuses that they are.

Berry Gordy bought out Golden World Records to get rid of the competition that the Fantastic Four (1st pic) presented to the Temptations and the competition that J.J. Barnes presented to Marvin Gaye and so on.




Mae Louise Miller grew up in chattel slavery working from plantation to plantation for White owners in the South where her family picked cotton and she was beaten and raped repeatedly from the age of five. Her story is typical of the horrid accounts of slave life in America during the 19th century, only this saga is not from back then, it is a true story of the present.

Ms. Miller was enslaved until 1961 (which we reported on earlier in the year) and there is evidence of slavery today in different parts of America's South.


Yes, slavery still exists in 2013 in Mississippi and Louisiana, says Timothy Arden Smith, who captured the story in a 2010 documentary called “The Cotton Pickin' Truth … Still on the Plantation.”

In the process of interviewing Ms. Miller about her life as a 20th century slave in America, Smith learned from her that slavery was still being practiced in Mississippi and Louisiana today. Then the filmmakers were taken to Glendora, Miss., and Webb, Miss., where they said they saw and documented the existence of plantations.

Smith said the areas are isolated, deep inland from main roads and “far away from civilization,” where plantation owners do what they want.

According to Smith, there are many who know that slavery didn't end with the Emancipation Proclamation nearly 153 years ago.

Others express disbelief and denial because of the perception of racial progress in America, such as having a Black president.

“The upper class Blacks look at it and they are shocked,” said Timothy Smith. “They feel ‘this is not going on we have a Black president."'

It is out of sight and out of mind for those who know slavery exists, he added.

Trapped by extreme poverty, isolation, fear and shame, some Blacks remain victims of neo-slavery in rural areas of the South, locked into work in fields, factories and assorted industries.

While not bought and sold at auction block, these poor Blacks are forced to work, live in shacks, often have no indoor plumbing and are often trapped in peonage, tied to land where they owe owners debts that are never repaid.

“Slavery never ended and that's the point, it never ended. It just disguised itself in other forms,” says Antoinette Harrell, who is based in Louisiana and has documented the plight of people she describes as modern slaves in America.

Ms. Harrell has been tracking this problem for the past decade. She knows it is hard for many to accept abusive conditions that amount to slavery exist today. Blacks don't want to believe this is happening in, she adds. But people are forced to stay on plantations in Glendora, Miss., Webb, Miss., Roseland, La., and other places where landowners use isolation and threats of violence to keep these Black workers under control, she says.


George Washington Johnson (c. October 1846 – January 23, 1914) was a singer and pioneer sound recording artist, the first African-American recording star of the phonograph.

Johnson was born in Virginia, either in Fluvanna County or near Wheatland in Loudoun County. His father was a slave; he was likely freed in 1853. From an early age, Johnson was raised near Wheatland as the companion and servant of a prosperous white farmer's son. During his time with this family, he developed his musical ability and even learned to read and write, which was unusual for a black child in Virginia before the American Civil War. Johnson later worked as a laborer, and in his late twenties he moved to New York City. By the late 1870s he was making his living as a street entertainer in New York, specializing in whistling popular tunes.

Some time between January and May 1890, Johnson was recruited by two different regional phonograph distributors who were looking for recording artists for their coin-operated machines.

Although Johnson could whistle all the tunes of the day, one of his first recordings for both companies was a popular vaudeville novelty song called "The Whistling Coon." Johnson sang as well as whistled, and also was able to give a boisterous laugh in musical pitch. From this he developed the second performance that made him famous, "The Laughing Song."

By 1895, Johnson's two tunes "The Whistling Coon" and "The Laughing Song" were the best-selling recordings in the United States. The total sales of his wax cylinders between 1890 and 1895 have been estimated at 25,000 to 50,000, each one recorded individually by Johnson. Remarkably, the New Jersey record company marketed Johnson as a black man, during an era when much of American life was strongly segregated by race.

At least one of his 1891 recording sessions was held at Thomas Edison's laboratory in West Orange, New Jersey. The Edison estate owns the publishing rights.

By 1905, Johnson's popularity had declined.

There is no evidence that he ever legally married or had any children, but Johnson did have at least two common-law wives, both of whom died while living with him. The first, an unnamed "German woman," was found dead in their apartment on West 39th Street in late 1894. No charges were filed. The second, Roskin Stuart, was found beaten and unconscious in their apartment on West 41st Street on October 12, 1899. Stuart was taken to the hospital and died a few hours later. Johnson was tried for first-degree murder and found not guilty.

Johnson died in 1914.


Real Life Science Fiction:

When it comes to haunted dolls, Robert is arguably America’s most famous. The Key West doll is a fixture on local ghost tours and even served as an inspiration for Chucky in Child’s Play.

Robert belonged to Key West painter and author Robert Eugene Otto. In 1906, a Bahamian maid reportedly gave the doll to Robert and then cursed the toy after Robert’s parents displeased her. Soon after the maid’s departure, strange events began plaguing the Otto household.

Young Robert enjoyed talking to his namesake, and servants insisted the doll talked back. They also claimed the plaything could change expressions at will and move about the house on his own. Neighbors reportedly saw the doll move from window to window when the family was away, and members of the Otto household heard maniacal giggles emanating from the toy.

Robert the Doll spooked plenty of folks during the day, but at night he focused on young Robert Otto. The boy would wake in the middle of the night, screaming in fear, as the heavy furniture in his room crashed to the floor. When his parents demanded to know what happened, Otto’s response was always the same: “Robert did it! It was Robert.”

Robert Otto died in 1974, and his notorious doll now sits on display at the Fort East Martello Museum in Key West. Legend has it the doll will curse anyone who takes a photo without permission, which Robert grants by slightly tilting his head. Visitors who forget can always beg for forgiveness which is what cameramen from the Travel Channel did after their HD camera mysteriously stopped working.


Even in a city accustomed to stories of heartbreak and loss, the still-unsolved murder of Tiesha Sargeant stands out as an unbearable tragedy.

A beautiful, 26-year-old publishing exec was in the second-floor Brooklyn apartment she shared with a boyfriend, Keve Huggins, when three masked gunmen climbed up the fire escape, tied the couple up, and made off with $5,000 in cash- but not before firing a shot into Tiesha's head, killing her.

That is Huggins' version of events supplied. He also told police he'd sold $6,000 worth of pot from the apartment at 1785 Bedford Ave. earlier that day.
Huggins offered to take a lie-detector test, but later backed out.

"Given the circumstances, he knows more than he is telling," a law enforcement source told the Daily News at the start of the investigation.

Years later, the NYPD says there are still no suspects in the murder.
It was always a great, disappointing mystery to Sargeant's friends and family that she ever took up with Huggins.

The daughter of working-class Guyanese immigrants, she was a star from an early age, winning a slot in Prep for Prep, a program that provides scholarships, tutoring and the all-important introductions that enable bright inner-city kids to attend top private schools.

Sargeant ended up at Brearly, one of four black students in a class of 40 at the exclusive all-girls school, and ended up co-head of the student government. She went on to Wesleyan University and excelled yet again.

Programs like Prep for Prep and A Better Chance were created to discover and nurture future black leaders-men and women to provide diversity inside mainstream institutions and new directions within the communities they came from.

People like Tiesha Sargeant.

She began living up to her end of the bargain right after college, taking a job as a recruiter for Credit Suisse, scouting out bright college minority students for openings at the Wall Street bank.

Sargeant ended up leaving the bank for a job as a Web designer at Condé Nast, the magazine empire that includes Vanity Fair.

And along the way, trying to strike the right balance between her inner-city roots and elite training.

Sargeant wound up with Huggins, a pot dealer going nowhere fast, nibbling on scraps of the entertainment business.

Source: NY Daily News


by: Gary James

Tony Turner has worked with some of Motown Records greatest recording artists. They include both The Supremes and The Temptations. As road manager for those acts, Tony had the best job in town - or did he? Tony takes us on a journey though time with The Temptations and lead singers Eddie Kendrick and David Ruffin.

Q - Tony, how did you put up with the kinds of treatment these people dished out to you? It's very painful to read the verbal abuse that was hurled at you.

A - Well, I had been around Motown people for so long, since I was 12 years old, which got chronicled in the other book, All that Glittered, My Life with The Supremes, you get used to a certain amount of abuse. I would say it was more like a parent with a child. Your father or mother scolds you and you really love them, and you know that in their heart, they really don't mean it. It's just that they're so confused at that time.

The personality, especially of David Ruffin and Eddie Kendrick, were so intricate, so many facets to their personality that the only way to make it in that situation, and many employees did not make it in that situation because of the attitudes of the bosses, was not really to take them seriously, just to really ignore them, take your check, and keep on going. If you were thin-skinned you could never have lasted at Motown, even in the early days. There was always that attitude that they were the stars. They were bred on that old Hollywood system that you are a star. So, that's how I stood it. I ignored it, and did not take it seriously, because I knew they really didn't mean it.

Q - Were you a fan that was hanging out and Mary Wilson (The Supremes) offered you a job?

A - No. Actually, I was born and lived in New York. It was fate, to make a long story very short. I happened to be wandering around 34th Street and 5th Ave. when I was 12 years old, at that corner where the B. Altman Department. store once stood. They're now closed. I decided to take a peak inside of this huge magnificent store. I was a kid from Harlem. I had never been inside a store of that caliber. When I went into the vestibule of that store, that is where I ran into, as fate would have it, Florence Ballard. She was standing in the vestibule with 25 shopping bags, full of things she had just bought. She, Florence Ballard, from the original Supremes, simply asked me to help her get her packages from that point out to the curb, to get a taxi.

And that, was my first encounter with The Supremes. She started to weave this long, intricate story of how she was gonna be on Ed Sullivan. Of course I did not believe that. She went on that she was a singer, and had I ever heard of a group called The Supremes, and she lived in Detroit, and she not gone into that store, or had I gone in using one of the other doors, I dare say I would never, ever have met Florence Ballard and none of this would ever have happened. It was just being in the right place, at the right time. I didn't know anything about The Temptations, The Four Tops. I had never heard of any of these people. I did not start out as being a fan of The Supremes. That is quite untrue.

Q - Tony, about ten years ago there was a school for road managing in New York. Can you really teach someone to be a road manager? It's really an art, isn't it?

A - Oh believe me, it is an art. Road managing in my opinion is nothing more than being a babysitter for adults. That's all it is. You have to have though good organizational and people skills. You have to be a people person. You have to be thick-skinned. You have to be able to change things on a moments notice. It's like being a school teacher, taking a class out on a field trip. Some groups are much easier to manage than others. I didn't go to any school for formal training other than Motown. I learned simply by being there, from 12 years old, and watching others do it.

I learned the ins and outs, and it was something I always wanted to do, so I paid especially close attention to the road managers. But, in developing your skills as a road manager you have to know a lot about the travel agency business, ways to get seats on planes that are fully booked, travel discounts, ways to get hotels, limos, restaurants, key restaurants in certain cities. You have to keep a good contact as you travel around the world and build up a good file of contacts, because chances are you will be going back to that city, and if you receive good service at one place, you want to go back there. Promoters can be terrible crooks, just very, very deceitful people, and you are in charge of a great deal of money that you have to collect. You're also in charge of a payroll.

I've found that sometimes musicians can be worse to work for than the stars themselves. However, you have to be almost like a union delegate. You have to keep your band appeased, because once you get a band that is completely crazy and wild, they can cause major, major problems. The Temptations cannot go on unless that band goes on first. The audience wants the music, along with the lyrics. So, being a road manager is not for everybody. You get very, very little sleep. You get all kinds of abuse. Everything that could possibly happen is your fault.

You have to be up hours before the star, and hours after the star. You really, really have to love it. You wear many hats as a road manager. You have to know about sound, lights, costumes. You handle everybody's passports, tickets, and somebody may ask you to sew a button on a suit. You can teach the fundamentals, but it would be so varied in what you would have to know, that a person really needs hands-on experience. Then you get involved in merchandising of t-shirts, souvenir books, all that stuff that goes on, on the road. You have to be able to delegate responsibility to other people also.

Q - You write: "We wanted to work for the stars, because that made us stars too." How did working for a star make you a star? You've already said the work was far from glamorous.

A - It's not glamorous work when you're doing it, but it is glamorous work to people outside of the profession. It makes you a star in your everyday life. No matter what you do, if you become known, this is Tony Turner, he's the road Manager for Diana Ross, it sort of becomes your name. People want to know you because of who you work for. The bigger the star, it buys the employee a certain amount of snob appeal. At airports you use it.

You say, "I'm with The Supremes. I'm with The Temptations," and things automatically change. Doors open up that were previously closed to you. In everyday life, in shopping if you go to a mall and shop at particular stores, and these people know that you work with a recording group, they'll treat you differently. They'll hold clothes for you. They'll give you clothes on consignment. You go into the car dealership, you're treated differently. It's because you're perceived as somebody special, That is why I find that sometime working with musicians on the road, you get a little more attitude than working for the stars. You can go into a hotel restaurant and pay for absolutely nothing, simply because you're with the band. So, it makes for a very convenient life at times.

Q - Of all the Motown artists, it seems that Diana Ross was the smartest when it came to business matters. Would you think that's part of the reason why she is not liked by other Motown artists?

A - No, I don't think Diana Ross was the smartest, nor do I think that she had a great sense of business. I think the resentment stems from the fact that among the original stable of Motown stars, by the stars themselves, Miss Ross was considered one of the least talented. I think the resentment from people like Martha, from Martha and The Vandellas and from maybe David Ruffin (The Temptations), was the fact that she was sleeping with Berry Gordy (Motown founder), therefore, she was afforded certain allowances and certain perks so to speak, that no one else at Motown was afforded.

She got the better gowns, the better hotels, the better show, more was spent on the music, more was spent on the look, more was spent on publicity. She got the top shows. Anything that came into Motown was first looked at as a potential vehicle for Diana Ross. The jealousy towards Diana Ross at Motown was simply because she was considered by her peers as not that talented, and she only got as far as she did because she was sleeping with Berry Gordy. It had nothing to do with business sense, nothing what-so-ever.

Q - You say in your book that the New Kids On The Block seemed to be "tightly controlled puppets and without their babysitters telling them exactly what to do, they would have been lost." Has anyone in their organization gotten back to you on that?

A - Not a word. Not a single, solitary word. I think that's because you really can't fight the truth. They don't even interview well, without the lists going out and the questions that you can ask, that they're rehearsed for. But, it was the same in the early days with the Motown groups. Everything was very, very well rehearsed, down to how to act and how to proceed in an interview, and you were rehearsed on the questions you would most likely be asked, especially back in the 6O's and 7O's. Nobody wouid ask questions like they ask today, because The Supremes or The Temptations didn't put themselves in a light like Madonna or Ice T. There was nothing ever controversial released, if you look back at the history of Motown, not an ounce of scandal really ever came out of that. It was very tightly controlled. The Supremes and The Temptations were ladies and gentlemen. This is not to say that they weren't doing something that perhaps Madonna is doing or striking some of the same poses. That would have been suicide to their careers.

Q - David Ruffin (of The Temptations) once said, "Mary Wilson (The Supremes) was trash".

A - David Ruffin was right.

Q - Why was she trash?

A - Well, it goes back to privately how she carried herself. She was a woman that everyone at Motown had slept with, so to speak. She was a party girl. By her own admission, in her own book she said she told Gordy when Gordy said she would make herself too available, the quote went something like, "I like to be out." She's a party girl. That's not to say she trashes per se. She likes men. David Ruffin liked women. So, there was a double standard there.

A gentlemen back in the 60's, 70's, you were a Hugh Hefner playboy. A woman was a tramp, a slut, a whore, and that's how David Ruffin looked at her. David Ruffin was of course on the inside. Outside, Mary Wilson, Florence Ballard, Diana Ross, were the epitome of black womanhood. They were like Black Barbie dolls. And this was the Motown machine hard at work. People didn't know for years that Mary Wilson had went with Tom Jones, until years after the fact, and that she went with a string of prominent men, Flip Wilson, Steve McQueen, David Frost, men inside and outside of Motown. She was very beautiful, and still is, and quite, quite popular. Men liked her, and she liked men. But David was right, she was trashy.

Q - A real eye-opener in your book is the story about Mary Wilson and her appearance on Robin Leach's Lifestyles of The Rich And Famous. She moved her belongings to a friends's mansion for the show, because in reality she lived in a two bedroom bungalow with her family. What's Mary's financial condition these days?

A - That was really my doing. Mary called me one day at my home in Long Island and she said very excited, "Oh, I'm going to be interviewed for The Rich and Famous, which actually turned out to be one of his other shows that didn't last that long, called Romance of The Rich and Famous. I said "that's fabulous." They sometimes interviewed people on location or in a hotel suite. I said "Mary, where are they going to interview you?" She said, "At home." I went like, completely crazy, I said "you cannot have the Rich and Famous interview you in that little bungalow." She was like, "Oh, you don't think so?" I said, "I don't think so. You're going to have to get a suite at The Beverly Hill Hotel or something and tell them your house is being renovated.

You can't have them come to that little thousand square feet place, out in the valley." Oh, my God, that place is horrible. She said, "Oh, I didn't think of that" I said, "Well that's what you have me for, dear." I said "what about asking Mrs. Avery?" (Dr. Avery was Mary's gynecologist) "You're good friends with her." She has this huge house up in Las Felices that originally had been built for George Raft. "Why don't you just ask her if you can use that house." So that is where the idea came from. We moved all her memorabilia such as oil paintings of herself, all of the Gold Records and we hung them up in the living room of that house. We took Mary's old Rolls Royce and put that in the driveway of this really big English Tudor that's on like over an acre of land. A quite imposing house it is. Once again it was my own training from Motown that at all costs you keep up the stars image, no matter what.

Q - Financially speaking, she was....

A - Broke. The nice beautiful Rolls Royce couldn't go over 30 miles per hour. The inside was a wreck. She finally spent about 30 grand to have the car re-conditioned which I thought was a bad move. About a year later, she sold it like for 20 grand, so she lost money on it. But, she had been badly ripped off. Long gone was the huge mansion in Hancock Park and the home up in Hollywood Hills. She was living in Studio City, on Eureka Drive in a small, little bungalow, right off of a main thoroughfare with one bathroom, 2 little bedrooms. There was about eight people living there. She had seen hard times. She was still working, but not making what she used to.

Q - But what about today?

A - I don't know what her financial shape is today. After she wrote. Dream Girl, My Life with The Supremes, she made quite a bit of money, and immediately took most of it and bought a house not too far from Dr. Avery's house. She bought an English Tudor in Las Felicies for about $600,000. She continued to work, and fell on some hard times and sold that. She moved to Washington. I understand she rented a place. Now, she's left that, and she's been living for the last year in Las Vegas. I don't know, if she bought or rents. She is a person, like the rest of America who has to work. Mary Wilson is not in a position to retire.

Q - There's a Motown saying, "Good manners can take you places money cannot."

A - Indeed.

Q - Like where?

A - Good manners can take you anywhere you want to go in the world. People like people who are nice and have good manners and are cordial. They remember people that way. If you are a multi-millionaire, but just a despicable person, there will eventually be doors that close on you. Diana Ross has tons and tons of money. She's a millionaire, of course. There are people that will not deal with her, because of her attitude and her manners. So although she has the money, there are certain stores and restaurants that do not want her business in New York. They do not want to put up with the theatrics, the special requests, and the rudeness. So, that is one lesson she did not learn.

Q - David Ruffin had everything anyone would want, but he wasn't happy. What was he looking for, did he know?

A - Yes, he knew. David Ruffin was looking for that intangible thing that I think a lot of people are looking for...inner peace. He was looking and he and Eddie Kendricks were not happy people. They were some of the nicest people I've ever met. David would curse you out in one breath and five minutes later would be taking you out in a shopping spree. It was just his personality was that schizo. I guess you had to be kind of schizo to even like the man. He had a good and kind heart. He was just very unhappy. He also felt that he'd never gotten the true recognition as a singer that he should have gotten. He and Eddie both thought that they should have been where Diana was, with the publicity, the movies, and the whole bit. They felt their talents were used to build Motown, and once Motown was solid, Berry felt he didn't have to bother with them anymore. They were very bitter about that situation. That bitterness from the early days at Motown and their resentment of Berry Gordy completely and utterly clouded their lives, from that moment on. They were never happy.

Q - You tell in the book how David Ruffin signed away his Lincoln Continental to a 14-year-old kid, for $20 worth of cocaine. You had to lose a lot of respect for someone who would pull a stunt like that.

A - It wasn't even his. It belonged to his girlfriend. When I got the call from his girl friend, Diane, and she was telling me what happened, we just burst out laughing. You know, what are we, as sick as these people? At this point, it was not funny, it was "Oh my God, David has done it again." One time, he rented a limo. I didn't write this in the book, a stretch limo, got the chauffeur all drunk and the tried to sell the limo. It comes to a point where you say "What is he going to do next?" I said to Diane, "Are you crazy? Why in the world would let David Ruffin take your brand new Lincoln Continental? You have to be crazy." I said "I would never loan that man my car!" "

Q - Let us say there was no Motown. Would a C.B.S. or M.C.A. have signed an act like The Supremes or The Temptations?

A - Well, you had The Shirelles. You had The Chantels. Earlier you had The Coasters and The Cadillacs, so you did have some black groups that made some prominence before Motown. I would very confidently say, without Berry Gordy, without good luck, without the Grace of God, without Motown, none of this could have ever happened. There's been no place like Motown since. I doubt that there ever will be a company in one location that would churn out that many people, basically all from the same neighborhood. It was just sheer luck.

Without Motown, I do believe that some of the Motown stars would have become stars on their own, at other companies. I do not think we would've had a Supremes per se. I do not think we would've had a Temptations. I think David Ruffin and Eddie Kendricks would have become stars as solo artists. I think Diana Ross would have had a solo career. I think people with lesser talent like Otis Williams (Temptations) and Mary Wilson would not have ever become stars had they not been in a group situation.

Without Diana Ross, had it just been Mary, Flo and some other money, whereas the stars paid attention to being a star. I didn't have someone to make my decisions for me, I made my own decisions. I learned from their horrible decisions. If you're making money, it's always best to count your own money. You don't need someone to count your money. If I'm gonna go broke, I'd rather go broke because I had the money and I spent it all, not because I had it and only gotten a percent of it, because somebody else spent it all. There's no reason why Mary Wilson should have ended up broke or Florence Ballard, and Eddie Kendricks, David Ruffin, and Berry Gordy end up living in Bel-Air. There has to be some balance there. So I watched the mistakes they made and paid close attention. Then once again, I don't have their drug habits either, which ate up a lot of money.

Q - But, I would imagine, you made your money in real estate and not road managing.

A - Road managing didn't pay a lot, but I did make good money when I was working with The Supremes and also, more recently with Eddie and David, before they died. The bulk of my money comes from wise investments.

Q - When you write a book like "Deliver Us From Temptation," what is the central message you tried to get across?

A - The central message that I tried to portray was, look at what happened to these talented people that were known throughout the world, living legends, the whole bit, look what happened to them. Do not let this happen to you. Count your own money, honey.


Rich clients never meet him. They're invisible and so is he.

You do business via an untraceable phone or through email (unmailed) drafts.

If you're an hedge fund manager who ran a ponzi scheme netting millions and you need to disappear, he's the man to call. If you're a billionaire accused of murder and you have to flee before arrest, he's the man you call.

The "Invisible Broker," supplies transportation (a private jet), passports and fake diplomatic credentials to get through customs; you can also smuggle money through customs (read below).

Diplomatic passports are typically issued only to diplomats and consuls on official state business. These passports are sold on the black market “for huge amounts of money.” With one of these, “you can go through customs and won’t get searched. It’s the ultimate disappearing tool.”

Is there a common destination for wealthy people on the lam?

If you’re in Colombia and you give $10,000 to the chief of police, you’re the mayor. And Canada’s popular for Chinese fugitives. Lai Changxing, who had a $6 billion smuggling empire, and Gao Shan, a former Bank of China manager accused of embezzling, spent years hiding in Vancouver.

There's a black market for people who have to launder money quickly. The Invisible Broker instructs them to buy expensive jewelry, art, watches and collectibles. He contacts a fence (for the wealthy) and the items are liquidated for quick cash.



When you think of the best falsetto's in R&B music, you automatically think of Eddie Kendricks, Curtis Mayfield, Bobby DeBarge, Philip Bailey, Russell Tompkins (Stylistics), Ted Mills (Blue Magic) and Prince.

Two names are absent from this list: Wayne Cooper (Cameo) and Tony Washington (Dynamic Superiors). Both men are pictured in the Top 2 photos (above). In my opinion, Cooper and Washington can out sing all of the men mentioned above and Sylvester idolized Tony Washington. Wayne Cooper and Tony Washington were the best falsetto's in R&B history.

It was a known fact that the Dynamic Superiors would regularly upstage the Temptations and the Dramatics as the opening act. Their dance steps were somewhat acrobatic. They were known for their live shows and fancy footwork but they were disregarded because of Tony's gay flamboyance.

The reason why Wayne Cooper and Tony Washington are constantly overlooked? They're sexuality. They were both gay and died of AIDS in 1984 (months apart). Bobby DeBarge also died of AIDS but he fathered kids and was married to a woman at the time of his death.


by: Mark Anthony Neal

Early on, straight members of the (Dynamic Superiors) made a pact not to get married so the unity of the group would remain intact. There biggest hit was "Shoe Shoe Shine," written by Ashford & Simpson.

Products of the Washington DC housing projects, Tony Washington and the Dynamic Superiors began singing with each other as high school students in the late 1960s. Their big break came when they performed at a music industry showcase in 1972 and were spotted by Motown executive, Ewart Abner, most well known for his work as President of Black owned Vee Jay Records which featured acts like Gene Chandler and Jerry Butler and distributed the initial American releases of The Beatles. The group was quickly signed by Motown and their first album "The Dynamic Superiors," was released in 1974. The lead single, “Shoe, Shoe Shine,” was in the vein of the popular harmony groups of the day like the Stylistics and Blue Magic, and as lead singer, Tony Washington’s falsetto was every bit the match of Russell Thompkins, Jr. and Ted Mills, respectively.

Yet, Washington exuded something more—a something more that can be easily recognized on the cover art from that first album. For a label that years earlier released an Isley Brothers album with a picture of a White couple on the cover in order to enhance crossover and in the late 1970s released Teena Marie’s debut without a photo in order to obscure her White identity, Motown's willingness to even visually suggest Washington’s queerness is striking; he often performed in drag and he always wore fake eyelashes, rouge and lipstick. Whatever curiosities arose in response to that album cover would be put to rest when the group began, rather famously to perform a cover of Billy Paul’s “Me and Mrs. Jones,” in concert with Washington clearly singing “Me and Mr. Jones.” Such performances quickly had the Black Press describing the Dynamaic Superiors as a “gay” group, as was the case when a 1977 feature on the group in the New York Amsterdam News was titled “Dynamic Superiors Lead ‘Gay’ Music Crusade.”

The group didn’t make much of such descriptions; in a magazine article in 1977 (New Gay Life), simply Washington suggested that “I guess it’s because it’s me myself. The fact that I’m the lead singer. I don’t hide it on stage.” Washington’s brother Maurice, also a member of the group adds in the same magazine piece, “It was always there. We just brought it out. Tony was just another member of the Dynamic Superiors…He never did hide.” In an era when no one talked openly about Black queer identity, Maurice Washington suggests that his brother’s willingness to be “out” on stage was empowering to some audience members: “there are a lot more homosexuals there than we think. But, they don’t care to let it out. Quite often after the show they want to meet Tony and want to thank him for being as open as they wish they could be…Tony’s a great inspiration.”

However progressive Tony Washington’s band mates may have been in their views about homosexuality—it was in fact his voice that made the group so distinct—audiences were not always in sync. As Washington admitted to The Advocate in 1977, “I guess I was trying to push the clock ahead, though I wasn’t that flamboyant in the beginning…I tried to ease it on them, bit by bit. I thought to myself, man, my makeup is part of the program, so why not accept it.” Washington often made the point, as he did to the Baltimore Afro-American in 1977 that “we are everyday people…we are proud and excited about what we do, but we still have our same friends in Washington.”

The Dynamic Superiors released four albums for Motown between 1974 and 1977. Trying to find just the right musical touch, Motown hired Ashford ands Simpson to do production on the first two albums. The group disbanded in 1980.

At the time of Washington's death, he was working at a Post Office in Washington, D.C. He often entertained co-workers on his lunch hour.



The Moorish Science Temple of America is an American religious organization founded in the early 20th century by Timothy Drew (far left-above). Although presented as a sect of Islam, the Moorish Science Temple also draws inspiration from Buddhism, Christianity, Freemasonry, Gnosticism and Taoism to present a message of pride, uplift, self-determination, personal transformation, and self-sufficiency.

The founding of the Nation of Islam by Wallace Fard Muhammad also created competition for members. In the 1930s, membership was estimated at 30,000, with one third in Chicago.


Timothy Drew aka Noble Drew (above-center) was born on January 8, 1886 in North Carolina, USA. Accounts of Timothy Drew's ancestry variously described his being the son of two former slaves who was adopted by a tribe of Cherokees or the son of a Moroccan Muslim father and a Cherokee mother.

Drew reported that during his travels, he met with a high priest of Egyptian magic. In one version of Drew's biography, the leader saw him as a reincarnation of the founder, while in others, the priest considered Drew a reincarnation of Jesus, the Buddha, Muhammad and other religious prophets. According to the biography, the high priest trained Drew in mysticism and gave him a "lost section" of the Koran.

Drew crafted Moorish Science from a variety of sources, a "network of alternative spiritualities that focused on the power of the individual to bring about personal transformation through mystical knowledge of the divine within". In the inter-war years in Chicago and other major cities, Drew used these concepts to preach racial pride and uplift. His approach appealed to thousands of African-Americans who had left severely oppressive conditions in the South and faced struggles in new urban environments.

In early 1929, following a conflict over funds, Claude Green-Bey, the business manager of Chicago Temple No. 1 split from the Moorish Science Temple of America. He declared himself Grand Sheik and took a number of members with him. On March 15, Green-Bey was stabbed to death at the Unity Hall of the Moorish Science Temple, on Indiana Avenue in Chicago.

Drew was out of town at the time, as he was dealing with former Supreme Grand Governor Lomax Bey (professor Ezaldine Muhammad), who had supported Green-Bey's attempted coup. When Drew Ali returned to Chicago, the police arrested him and other members of the community on suspicion of having instigated the killing. No indictment was sworn for Drew Ali at that time.

Shortly after his release by the police, Drew Ali died at age 43 at his home in Chicago on July 20, 1929. The exact circumstances of his death are unknown. Many of his followers speculated that his death was caused by injuries from the police.

According to Tommy DeBarge:

My wife (Duckie), myself and my kids were relaxing when I received a summons to court. I had no idea why I was being ordered to appear before a judge this time. Without a clue, we showed up on the specified date to find Mama and her new husband Jorge (Papi) Rodriguez there. I was confused. I wasn't connected with Mama or Papi in any way when it came to legal matters, so I couldn't put the pieces of the puzzle together.

The judge stated that I'd incurred possible psychological problems from a recent automobile accident (this false information was provided by my Mother).

The judge also spoke of my drug use, stating that I was perhaps addicted to prescribed pain medication. He claimed that my wife and I were unfit parents. These charges were being brought against us by my own mother, Etterlene Debarge Rodriguez.

Mama walked out of the court room that day with complete control of my money. I had no idea she had been up to this behind my back. She couldn't wait for an opportunity to get her hands on something that wasn't hers.

I had been receiving a large sum of money each month from the insurance company for lost wages due to the car accident. The judge authorized Mama to receive every penny of it. He appointed her conservator over my affairs. Mama with money was like a hungry dog getting a bowl of chow. She had no control. She was greedy and had been lusting over my money, plotting how she could get her hands on it.

The things the judge said were actually Mama's thoughts, and they hurt. She lied, too.

Was the judge aware of all the hurt and incest? Did he realize how Mama picked favorites amongst her kids based on who had money at the time? He should've been sentencing her to jail for the crimes she allowed Daddy to commit against me, Bunny and Bobby.

So much had gone on under her roof that she didn't see or at least said she didn't know about it. Then, she would accuse us kids of exaggerating to ease her guilt.

In my heart, I detested what Mama was about.

Mama was a church woman, but that didn't mean she wasn't as wrong as two left shoes. I was still suffering all those years later from what this church woman was about. I didn't care how glamorous she looked in her church outfit with her nails done and her wig on because on the inside she was just as poisonous and destructive in my life as my drugs.

Someone should have shot and killed me, for the impact of the bullet would've been less painful than the hurt I felt.

I had stood speechless in the courtroom that day, wanting to tell the judge all about Mama and the horrible atmosphere in which I'd grown up. And the judge didn't know her new husband had drug problems.

As far as I was concerned, she was a thief who had robbed me not only of my money, but the inability to support my wife and kids.

My brothers and sisters couldn't see it then, but one day they would know without a doubt, as she would have her day of robbery with each one of them. She always found an excuse for what she took so that it wouldn't be seen as stealing, but in the end, here was no other word for it.

I had recently purchased a home on Alger Street, Mama, knowing that, saw that as a reason not to pay my mortgage any longer since she had control of my finances. The home was foreclosed on.

She used my money for her own benefit as soon as the first check came to her. She had access to my credit cards and bank accounts. She bought items for her home and trivial things. She spent my paycheck as if it was her own hard-earned money.



William Lloyd “Little Willie” Adams (above-right) might have been one of the wealthiest Black men in America, with an estimated worth of $40 million in the late 1970s.

Bumpy Johnson, Frank Lucas and Nicky Barnes are better known but Lloyd "Little Willie" Adams was the richest black gangster in U.S. history.

He isn't well known because he kept a low profile but he was a shrewd businessman.


Lloyd “Little Willie” Adams was a black businessman and well-known gangster who gave opportunities to a number of black entrepreneurs by funding their dreams. When there were no black savings and loan, there was Lloyd “Little Willie” Adams. Adams later became a venture capitalist, building small empires, from liquor stores to mortuaries.

The Zebulon, North Carolina native moved to Baltimore as a teenager and was cared for by close relatives. After completing a fast track of advanced college courses, he took on multiple jobs during the Depression era in a rag factory, delivering newspapers, repairing bicycles and operating a shoe shine parlor. The job he was most known for around the city was running numbers for an illegal lottery. One day, his numbers boss rejected his tickets, accusing Little Willie of arriving too late. Forced to make up the money, he decided to become his own lottery boss (a numbers kingpin) at age 16.

Now a gangster himself, Adams opened Little Willie’s Tavern in 1938 with his earnings. Soon, jealous gangs blew up his bar and the law intervened by arresting him.

Adams told a congressional investigative panel about his numbers running past while giving testimony on organized crime in 1951. “I used the illegal lottery to get into legitimate businesses,” he later told the AFRO in a 1979 article.

According to various AFRO archive articles, police claimed Adams still ran an illegal numbers operation that netted $100,000 a week. They conducted mass raids of his businesses, arrested associates and family members, planted evidence and spied on him through surveillance cameras.

Some Black supporters said authorities targeted Adams to overshadow a corruption scandal involving the city’s White state’s attorney. Conaway was one of them. “I thought it was definitely a campaign to smear him,” Conaway said. “He was one of the most outstanding African-American citizens we had at the time.”

Adams was the driving force behind numerous political campaigns, including that of former Mayor and Gov. William Donald Schafer. He played a principal role in elevating Black leadership in the City Council and Maryland General Assembly, and alongside other Black political forces, he helped elect the state’s first Black congressman, Rep. Parren J. Mitchell.

Clerk of the Court Frank M. Conaway Sr. says Adams and his wife Victorine Q. Adams – who was the first Black woman to serve on the Baltimore City Council – were instrumental in helping him win his first election to the House of Delegates. “He was always there to help in the Black community and it was laudable and so unselfish for him to do this,” Conaway said.

But along with his sweeping influence in the business and political scene, Adams will also be remembered as a man willing to help everyday people.

John Milton Wesley, who partnered with Adams on housing projects while working for the Housing Authority and wrote a biographical sketch on Adams, said the businessman once wrote a man facing foreclosure a check for $147,000. After saving the man’s house, Adams invited him to a game of golf. “He was just an extraordinary man,” Wesley said.

Adams managed to beat the Supreme Court system on a $5 million numbers conspiracy charge. When the lottery became legal, Adams served as consultant. He then invested in the dream of Henry Parks & the Parks Sausage Company. By 1969, Parks Sausage became one of the first black-owned companies to go public on Wall Street. Next was the Super Pride Markets chain and Carr’s Beach amusement park. Adams made money on investments as 51% owner of the companies. Unfortunately, some were failures, like a soft drink by prize fighter Joe Louis called Joe Louis Punch.

Little Willie died in 2011 at the age of 97.


by: Michael Clancy


Betty Jean Newsome arrived in New York City from Wilson, North Carolina, sometime in the '50s. She has since corresponded with four presidents in her ministry. But in those days, after working as a live-in maid, Newsome became a dancer and a girl about town. She shook it at the Peppermint Lounge and the Wagon Wheel, eventually became a go-go dancer on NBC's "Hullabaloo," variety show and ABC's "Shindig!" She was known to be quite a looker, and men liked to be seen with her, but Betty says she never smoked a cigarette or drank whiskey (though she'd drink champagne sometimes, if it was mixed with something sweet). She knew Joe Tex, Sam Cooke, and Smokey Robinson, whom she says she may or may not have had a child with—"He's got those same eyes," notes Betty, referring to one of her seven sons. She also has a daughter.


Bobby Byrd rode shotgun in the limousine, while his boss stretched out in the back. By the early '60s-80's, James Brown sometimes used a limo to escape the confines of his tour bus, but he hadn't always hired drivers. So Byrd and "Baby" Lloyd Stallworth, a Brown valet and sometime Famous Flames vocalist, often shared driving duties. This time it was Stallworth's turn behind the wheel for the nearly 1,000-mile, 20-hour journey from Harlem.

On this trip, one of James's girlfriends, Betty Jean Newsome, shared the backseat with the Godfather of Soul.

As Newsome now recalls, at one point in the ride—shortly before they would drive down a stretch of Carolina highway lined with hooded Klansmen burning crosses—she was humming something to James, who listened attentively and even joined in the song.

"Dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah, man's world," the young dancer whispered to Mr. Dynamite as the limo rolled along.

Maybe it was the sound of the road or the length of the limo, but Byrd said he couldn't really make out too much else about it. And he didn't seem to care too much, either. Having slogged along the endless tour of the chitlin circuit for a while now, he knew to give James his distance, especially when it came to women. Newsome "was James's lady," Byrd said in the same legal papers. "You have no business speaking to James's lady. You have no business saying anything to James's lady."

Newsome was indeed James's lady (or at least one of them) for a short spell, during that era when he played hundreds of shows at the Apollo Theater, including the legendary 1962 set that became Live at the Apollo, which would stay on the album charts for 66 weeks and propel Star Time to an even higher orbit. Newsome's romance with Brown was destined to be nothing more than a fleeting affair, one that she views today with little sentimentality. Being that close to James gave her a keen appreciation of the man's genius, but also his brutishness and brutality, especially when it came to his girls.

To hear her tell it now, they were both too hard-headed, too alike, too tough. And he was too controlling.

She says Brown asked her to have a baby with him, but she rebuffed him, saying, "I ain't gonna be having one of your little monkey babies." The Famous Flames, Newsome recalls, marveled at the fact that James didn't kill her right then and there.

Baby or not, Betty Jean Newsome did create something with James that she says is lasting and sanctified: "It's a Man's Man's Man's World." And like two parents in an ugly custody battle, Brown and Newsome—or at least their proxies—have tussled over ownership of the song for decades. First recorded as "It's a Man's World" in June of 1964 in Chicago, it was Brown's second version of the song, retitled a few years later to slyly echo the Oscar-winning It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World, that would became an international sensation, ascending to the top spot on the r&b chart and No. 8 on the pop charts, evolving onstage into one of Brown's signature showstoppers and personal favorites.

When Newsome's protests forced him to make a sworn deposition regarding the creation of "It's a Man's Man's Man's World." Under oath, Brown repeatedly insisted that she had nothing to do with the song. He said he signed over 25 percent of the publishing rights to Newsome because his manager said so.

She had hoped that someone would record her song as a way to fame and fortune, so when Betty hummed it to James that day in the limo, it wasn't entirely by chance.

But in this dispute, Newsome didn't show the fierce independence she'd flaunted during her relationship with James. Instead, her new man, Clarence "Mookie" Jackson, a mobster from Harlem who would later spend time in prison and father a child with Newsome, handled the dispute. Newsome says she doesn't know exactly how Jackson dealt with the hard-headed, penny-pinching Brown, though she does recall the tale of someone letting a box of mice loose at one of JB's concerts. Jackson "really went too far," she says now. "He was a gangster. He didn't care what happened . . . somebody took a box full of mice to the stadium and turned it out, so they had to give all those people their money back. I didn't find out about that until years later." (Though it was never established where this happened, Brown would later testify that Jackson did cause him some problems at a show.)

Mookie was a numbers banker who lived in Harlem, from the Madame Sinclaire/Bumpy Johnson era. He built a rep’ shooting fellow Banker ”Red” Dillard Morrison in the abdomen with a shotgun after Red tried getting in on a successful con game he played for years with Alice, a white Tennessee redhead.

When Frank Lucas and Nicky Barnes were just kids, Mookie was a gangster revolutionary, equally respected by the Genevese family, the Young Lords and the Black Panthers – to all of whom he made significant financial donations.

He reputedly shook Mayor Ed Koch down for city jobs for deserving minorities they knew personally.

Mookie was Brill Building Broadway, Mr. Nightlife. As record producer, his ’60s label ‘Clamike’ specialized in some deep dish soul and started a “fair play’ committee to stop payola and protect his investments. He promoted concerts at Shea Stadium then fights, reputedly literally running Don King out of Madison Square Garden.

Mookie was the uncredited co-producer of "Across 110th Street." The film-makers had to ‘consult’ for his authority on shooting in Harlem. Any kind of shooting: dope, film, enemies, if you wanted to shoot shit in Harlem you needed to consult Mookie. In the movie, those are Mookie’s junkies in Mookie’s shooting galleries being paid in Mookie’s dope to be extras. The brothel scene was shot in Miss Lacey’s, the pimp bar Mookie and Lloyd Price ran on 57th Street next to Carnegie Hall.

His wardrobe reputedly included 500 suits by Phil Kronfield and Leighton’s, then the haberdashers to the stars. His resume included every hustle in Harlem and their consequences: ” Got 10 yrs in Atlanta in 73..did 6..Got busted in Chinatown by the DEA in 89, got another 10 yrs – Got out in 96…with a quadruple bypass…” Organize a fundraiser for Joe Louis.

But whatever happened outside the legal realm, Mookie's publishing company, Clamike Records sued Brown, leading to a 1967 agreement wherein Newsome was listed as co-author of "It's a Man's Man's Man's World" (the original version, which lay unreleased for decades, was of little use), and thus entitled to one-third of the writing royalties.

According to court papers, Newsome has since collected more than $250,000 from the deal.

To this day, Newsome carries herself with regal grandeur—the air of a woman who's accustomed to the attention of men. When Brown was laid out at the Apollo after his passing last Christmas Day, the room hushed a little as Newsome strode in with her long hair and furs. A few people knew who she was, but the rest just suspected she was somebody.



Claudia Lennear was a background singer for Ike & Tina Turner and a former girlfriend of Mick Jaggers; she inspired The Rolling Stones song 'Brown Sugar.'

Lennear speaks three languages; including French and Spanish.

She's also a former 'Playboy' centerfold.

In 1971, she stood onstage with rock icons George Harrison, Eric Clapton and Bob Dylan.


Music surrounded Claudia Lennear at a very early age. Her household in Providence, Rhode Island hosted the sounds of everything from Rodgers & Hammerstein scores to Bobby “Blue” Bland and Little Richard records. “I was probably seven or eight at the time the movie South Pacific (1958) was really popular,” she recalls. “My mother taught me how to harmonize to ‘Bali Hai’. I didn’t really come up in the black church.

Lennear finished high school and enrolled in college. She also started singing with a band called the Superbs. The group released a single “One Bad Habit” on the Dore label and did local gigs around Los Angeles.

Lennear soon discovered that she lived near one of her musical idols—Ike & Tina Turner. “I started networking,” she says. “Somewhere between promoting the Superbs is when I contacted Sherlie Matthews. She was a prominent background singer for many Motown artists and others at the time. I think we met at a Temptations concert in LA. She said, ‘I can get you an audition for Ike & Tina Turner’. I thought she was kidding but I did take her up on it. She introduced me to Ike Turner and set up an audition. I passed the audition with Ike so I left the Superbs behind.”

Claudia Lennear became an Ikette at a very critical time in Ike & Tina Turner’s career. The act had already established themselves in the early ‘60s with hits like “A Fool in Love” and “It’s Gonna Work Out Fine” and had conquered the UK in 1966 with the Top 5 success of “River Deep-Mountain High” produced by Phil Spector. When Lennear filled the slot vacated by Vermettya Royster, Ike & Tina Turner were signing a new label contract with Blue Thumb, which yielded the blues-centric Outta Season (1968) and The Hunter (1969). Within two years of Lennear’s arrival, the group moved to Liberty Records and began incorporating covers of the Beatles (“Come Together”), the Rolling Stones (“Honky Tonk Woman”), and Sly & the Family Stone (“I Want to Take You Higher”) into their repertoire. The latter reached the Top 40 and even surpassed Sly & the Family Stone’s original version on the Hot 100. The group’s next major hit? “Proud Mary”. However, before Ike & Tina Turner ever recorded their Grammy-winning rendition of John Fogerty’s song, they honed it onstage in their live set. In fact, when the group appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show in January 1970 to promote “Bold Soul Sister”, they also staged one of their earliest televised performances of the Creedence Clearwater Revival classic.

Whether catching the Revue on Ed Sullivan, The Hollywood Palace, or Playboy After Dark, audiences could easily spot Lennear with her long, cascading hair and stylish bangs. “That was Ike’s vision—to have these girls with the flying hair, the dance movements, supporting Tina while she sang,” she says. “I guess we were providing the eye candy. That was all Ike Turner’s idea. I think he perfected that. I’ll give credit where it’s due.” Lennear’s first professional gig immersed her in a whirlwind of non-stop rehearsal, performing, and touring. She continues, “Every night with Ike & Tina was a high point. The culture of the Ike & Tina Turner Revue was when you’re onstage, you perform not 100% but at least 200%. You had to do that to keep up with Tina. She’s such a ball of energy. Believe me, it was like boot training. It was really preparing me for the future.”

Ikettes were known to have a high turnover rate but Lennear stayed longer than most. By 1970, she’d reached a plateau and knew she needed a change. One particular incident hastened her departure. She recalls, “On our way to the stage, Tina and I had a little spat. It wasn’t a knock-out, drag-down kind of fist-fight. Tina’s just not like that, nor am I. It was just a very brief verbal altercation. At that point, I was kind of at the end of my rope anyway. We did the show and then I turned in my resignation.” In hindsight, Lennear recognizes just how much her time with Ike & Tina Turner schooled her on the performance side of the business. Long before she left Ike and launched her blockbuster solo comeback, Tina Turner was an inspirational force for Lennear. “I really loved Tina dearly,” she continues. “She was like a sister. She was a family member. She was the most incredible person to learn from. She wasn’t really a ‘teacher’ but just being in her presence ... to this day, she’s still an amazing woman. I kiss the ground she walks on.”


Russ Ulbricht's "The Silk Road," site dealt in narcotics trafficking, computer hacking, money laundering and allegedly,-assassination for hire. The FBI also claims that in May 2013, Ulbricht attempted to pay a "Silk Road," user to murder another member who was “threatening to release the identities of thousands of users of the site.”

The Guardian reports that Ulbricht (top photo and profile) has been arrested in San Francisco. He allegedly had more than 26,000 Bitcoins in his virtual wallet—a stash worth more than $3.6 million.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg: The FBI claims that since its inception, the Silk Road had more than 9.5 million Bitcoins worth of sales revenue, totalling roughly $1.2 billion. Yes, that's "billion" with a "b," and all those sales allegedly generated 600,00 Bitcoins (totalling roughly $80 million) for Silk Road itself.

The Silk Road functioned as a sort of Ebay for drugs and other oft-illegal merchandise, serving as an anonymous marketplace connecting buyers with sellers, complete with an escrow system to reduce transactional risk.

Authorities have been trying to shut down the Silk Road for years, but, until now, it proved a frustratingly difficult gnat to swat. The site cloaked itself deep in the Darknet, the hidden, anonymous underbelly of the Web, and was only reachable when using the anonymizing Tor software and network. The site also relied on Bitcoins to allow buyers and sellers to swap cash without revealing their identity.

Would-be drug buyers are finding their online options rapidly evaporating. Late last month, Silk Road rival Atlantis abruptly shut its doors, allegedly spiriting with its users’ Bitcoins.

Beyond drugs, the sanctity of Tor’s “Onionland” Darknet itself has been under siege recently. In August, FBI agents seized the servers of Freedom Hosting, which housed many of the more popular “Hidden Services” websites that comprise Onionland. At the same time, many Tor websites were compromised.


Annie Turnbo Malone was born to former slaves in Metropolis, Illinois. Some historical accounts say that she dropped out of high school due to illness and others say to practice hairdressing, but by all accounts she had a good knowledge of chemistry and by the age of 20 had developed her own shampoos and scalp treatments to grow and straighten hair.

She took to the streets to demonstrate and sell her wares. By 1902 her products were a success. She named her company "Poro Products," and moved to St. Louis, Missouri to expand the business. Poro is a West African (Mende) male secret society. Some have translated the word as meaning “devotional society". Poro Products became an international company with customers in the United States, Africa, South America and the Caribbean and Malone became a millionairess.

In 1918 Malone built a four-story million dollar factory and beauty school complex in the historic St. Louis neighborhood known as The Ville. She employed over 175 people (including at one point protégé Sarah Breedlove, who would later become known as Madam C.J. Walker.) She became one of the nation’s wealthiest black women, a leading cosmetics entrepreneur, philanthropist and leader in the St. Louis black community. In 1930, the business was relocated to Chicago, Illinois.

Miss Malone died in 1957.

Sarah Spencer was born June 6, 1889 in Beckley, Virginia. She later moved to Atlantic City and worked as a hairdresser. In 1913 she started a hairdressing business in a small one-room beauty shop. She began to experiment with ingredients and later was granted a patent for a new system of straightening the hair of black women. In 1919 she founded Apex News and Hair Company. She worked in the beauty salon during the day (and also taught students the trade) and in the evenings sold her cosmetics throughout the city.

By the mid-1930s the Apex Beauty Products Company was the largest New Jersey black-owned business and one of the nation’s leading black manufacturing companies. In addition to the cosmetics company, she owned Apex Publishing Company, which published Apex News for beauticians and sales agents, Apex Laboratories, Apex Drug Company and Apex Beauty College. 11 beauty schools in the US ad franchised schools overseas. Apex Beauty Systems Sarah Spencer, one of the first African American millionaires. She was awarded a medallion at the 1939 World’s Fair as one of the Most Distinguished Businesswomen” in the country.

Miss Spencer died in 1953.

Nobia Franklin aka Madame N.A. Franklin expanded her 1915 beauty salon into a chain of salons and eventually created one of the first major lines of cosmetics to include face powders that were meant to flatter, rather than lighten darker skin tones. By 1917 she opened the Franklin School of Beauty Culture and relocated manufacturing, salon and educational operations to Houston.

In 1922 she moved to Chicago to open a salon and school and expanded the manufacturing of her business. Soon she began to teach others “the Franklin way” of styling hair using her products. Like Malone and Walker, she trained women to style and grow hair using her products and encouraged them to set up shops to style, straighten hair and sell the company's skin and hair products.

The company's wide range of products included hair tonics, hair growers, soaps, pressing oil and face powder specially created for an African American clientele. Although she was a millionaire, Franklin didn't quite reach the success of Annie Turnbo Malone, Madam Walker and Sarah Spencer, in part because she wasn't able to build as large a network of sales agents nor did she acquire patents for her creations.

Miss Franklin died in 1934.


Who Created the Hot Comb? Annie Malone or Madam Walker?

The answer is neither. It is reported that in 1872 a hairdresser named Marcel Grateau used a pressing comb on his clientele in Paris, who were trying to emulate the straight style of ancient Egyptian hair, but it’s not really known exactly who invented the device. Annie Malone was the first to patent a hot comb. Madame CJ Walker improved upon the comb by widening the teeth for use on black hair.



by: Jonathan Foreman

Fred Astaire ate there once a week and ran a tab; John Belushi dined there the night he died. The late Michael Jackson liked the ambience and Naomi Campbell was spotted at a private table. "Dan Tana’s," was an insider’s place when it opened in 1964, and it’s an insider’s place now.

Tana’s didn’t really hit its stride until the sexy excess of the ’70s, when rockers mixed with Industry swingers. (Regulars still recall seeing customers snorting coke off the bar and having sex in the wine room.)

Tana’s has always been a favorite of professional athletes and team owners. Vlade Divac was a regular (with a dish named after him), and Magic Johnson celebrated his return to the Lakers there. Wilt Chamberlain accumulated a goodly portion of those 10,000 women at the bar, and there are signed and framed Lakers and Rams uniform shirts on two walls in the nonsmoking room. Dan says that one of these days he’s going to take down the Rams shirt because he is disgusted by their departure from the city. Dan Tana's has always been a favorite of pro athletes and team owners.

Tana’s is reputed to have the best steaks on the West Coast (better than Ruth Chris, Mortons and Mastro's), thanks to a “man of respect.” This gentleman, a visitor from Chicago, complimented Dan on his steaks some 15 years ago, then told him that they could be even better if he used the very best beef, and he knew where to get it. So Dan tried the beef, which comes from Kansas City, and it was and is superb. To this day, it arrives fresh in big hunks from K.C., and the chef cuts off huge steaks as needed. Because the meat is so expensive, Tana’s makes virtually no profit on its steaks, but it would never use another source and would never dream of changing the portions. It’s just the Tana Way. If you order the shrimp dish, be prepared to pay (by the shrimp). Each shrimp is priced at $15.00.

The second shift is slightly tipsier, slightly crazier and slightly more diverse. An X-rated comedienne called Glitter. Luis the 911 operator. A smooth African-American banker named Robert. A movie producer with a sideline in coke. A professional golfer. A rich kid in his late twenties who was a hockey star in college. Then, on different nights, the Irish exiles, the Yugoslavs, and the barmen and maitre d’s from the big hotels and restaurants around town who come in after their own establishments have closed.

At times, Tana’s seems like some strange English gentlemen’s club. You just have to fit in, and if you don’t, you wouldn’t like it there anyway. Walk in early on any given night, and you’ll see a smattering of Hollywood grandees, like the Wassermans at the top table, and regulars like the William Shatners in one of the discreet booths. A little later, around 7:30, the middle-aged execs–the Katzenbergs and Gubers–arrive, followed by, say, Larry King and some agents from William Morris grabbing some pasta before a show at the Troubador next door. You won’t see Sean Penn or Matt Dillon till at least 9, and rockers like the Red Hot Chili Peppers blow in much later.

On first entering Dan Tana’s, everything is pitch-black–at least until your eyes adjust.

Jerry Seinfeld was surprised not to be recognized one night.

There are many, many tales of Tana maitre d’s putting celebrities in their place. One Sunday evening, White House chief of staff Alexander Haig phoned the restaurant to say that President Nixon wanted to speak to John Wayne, who was dining there that night. On hearing that the president of the United States was calling, the maitre d’ said, And I’m George Washington and slammed down the phone. Shortly afterward, a carload of L.A. sheriffs deputies arrived with a message that it really was the president. And he wanted to speak to Mr. Wayne immediately.

Perhaps the most famous story involves John Travolta–which is ironic, given his “Let’s go to Dan Tana’s line at the end of "Get Shorty." As legend has it, Travolta was at the height of his Saturday Night Fever fame. He turned up on a busy night, date in tow, with no reservation, and was told that he could have a table in two hours. “Do you know who I am?” Travolta asked the maitre d’. “NO,” came the reply.

“I’m John Travolta.”

“Well, for you, Mr. Travolta, it will be three hours.”

On the other hand, no celebrity is ever hassled at Tana’s. Autograph hounds and paparazzi cannot stand up without a waiter or busboy intercepting them like a Patriot missile. That’s the way things are done there. That’s why three generations of Barrymores, from John to Lionel right down to Drew, have patronized Tana’s.

Regulars always take precedence when it comes to reservations and seating. And while a considerable number of the regulars are rich or famous, many of them are neither, and you end up with a strange democracy that could exist only in L.A.


Nicolás Rolando Gabaldón (1927-1951) was an early surfer who is credited by surfing experts with being California's first documented surfer of African-American descent (some say he was half Latino) at a time when many beaches were segregated and opportunities for minorities more limited than today. Despite being an amateur recreational surfer rather than a professional competitive surfer, he is widely considered a role model for his part in the history of surfing and African American history in the areas of Santa Monica and California.

Nick was born February 23, 1927 in Los Angeles, California. His mother was Black some say his father was Latino (others say his father was black). Very little is known of his childhood. He lived most of his life in Santa Monica, California and was one of 50 black students at Santa Monica High School during the 1940s. Nick taught himself how to surf at a 200 foot roped off stretch of demarcated beach which was part of Santa Monica State Beach. This area of beachfront was informally referred to by names such as "Ink Well Beach", "Negro Beach", and other more derogatory names. In 1924, after the forced closure of black owned and operated Bruce's Beach and due to de facto segregation, that portion of beachfront near Bay Street and Ocean Blvd. became the only place in Southern California that racial minorities were freely allowed to use without harassment or violence. The area remains popular with African American Angelenos up through present day.
After serving in the Navy Reserve during World War II, Nick enrolled in Santa Monica College, where he divided his time between pursuing his studies, surfing and working as a lifeguard. Around 1949, Nick began surfing in Malibu, California at Surfrider Beach where he was accepted without question by several mainland surf pioneers. His friends and surf contemporaries included Greg Noll, Mickey Munoz, Ricky Grigg, Matt Kivlin, Buzzy Trent, Robert Wilson Simmons aka "Bob Simmons," and Les Williams. Since he did not own a vehicle, Nick would either get there by hitchhiking on the Pacific Coast Highway, or he would use his surfboard to paddle the 12 miles to Malibu by way of Santa Monica Bay. According to the Encyclopedia of Surfing, Nick did this water commute each day for several weeks.

On June 5, 1951 (some reports cite June 6), Nick died when he crashed into the Malibu Pier while attempting a surfing move known as a "pier ride" or "shooting the pier." At that time, there was a south swell that came on, creating some of the biggest waves known in that area. Nick's surfboard was found immediately, but it would be 9 days before his body was found washed up on Las Flores Beach, further east of the Pier. The coroner ruled that Nick died as a result of drowning. Most of his Malibu-based surfing peers had attended Nick's rosary. His funeral was held at St. Monica Catholic Church, Santa Monica. He is buried in Woodlawn Memorial Cemetery.


NICK GABALDON WAS BLACK. He learned to surf in the tiny waves off a roped-off parcel of Santa Monica sand known to more charitable whitefolk as "Negro beach." He surfed alone; there were no other colored surfers.
Most of them were afraid of the ocean, but Nick had conquered it; and when he walked, six fee five inches tall and blueblack, into his people's bars on Pico Boulevard, the men stood up. He was their champion.

He appeared at Malibu one day. No one ever knew how he got there. "He just appeared." But every morning he was there. Weeks later they found out. He paddled. Each morning he launched his huge white surfboard and paddled twelve miles to Malibu; each evening his powerful shoulders drew him back over the whitecaps, from Malibu to Negro beach, where he disappeared to do what the Negroes did in the darken ghetto of Santa Monica.

He was a giant of a man, stronger than the chains that might have bound him to a Negro beach. Even after he was accepted into the Malibu group, and one or another of the guys drove him to Malibu, saving him the long paddle, and he stood around the fire with them on the cold gray days, he was quiet and alone. But he was a surfer. He had it inside him.

Some say the waves were eight feet, others ten. It doesn't matter - the waves spun endlessly from point to pier. Toward noon the reached their peak. Then one wave rose outside, higher than the rest, and washed down before the men with flagging muscles could paddle over it. Three were spared. One was Nick.

Surfboards lay scattered along the strand like broken birds. The impact area looked like a cemetery, surfboards jutting up here and there like tombstones; some floated belly-up beyond their riders, who were swimming. Then the second wave hit. For an eternity it clung to the horizon like a shroud, rising higher and higher as it came, until even the sun was obscured behind it. And then the rumbling. And in its awesome shadow, three surfboards came swooping; they skimmed the point ... the inside wall ... and then the pier. Nobody had ever made the pier.

They were close now. "We can make it!" Nick yelled. But the others, doubted, pulled out. The something inside him told Nick he could make it. He bore on. His heart pounded; the rise and fall ... there was hope! Until that last eternal instant when the wave exploded all around him and he was committed and it was suddenly all too clear and his body bent to the will of that one eternal wave of his capricious, vindictive sea, and he flew with the full force of that wave, headlong amongst the pilings.

From the beach they had all seen. They ran to help, but there was no trace. They dived all day, searching, found nothing.

In the next morning's newspaper, a news item appeared:

"Eyewitnesses today described how Nicholas Gabaldon, 20, student at Santa Monica City College, was swept to his death yesterday afternoon while surfing near the Malibu Pier ..."

Nine days later, only a little way down the beach from where the terrible thing had happened, Nick Gabaldon's body washed to shore


by: Shane White

Black History (1820's-1830's):

Writing to Frederick Douglass in 1852, the black intellectual James McCune Smith noted Jeremiah G. Hamilton as “the only black millionaire in New York,” disparaging him for the crassness of his pursuit of wealth. But despite Hamilton’s prominence in his own lifetime, modern American historians have ignored him.

What makes Hamilton’s invisibility all the more remarkable, is that, paradoxically, he was larger than life, anything but a reticent figure lost in the background. Indeed, he left a pretty hefty footprint on the historical record: there are tens of thousands of words of newsprint about him and, in the archives, well over 50 court cases involving Jeremiah Hamilton as either plaintiff or defendant. His well-documented experience as a wealthy black man provides a unique but illuminating perspective on the possibilities and limits of black life in the nation’s largest city, before and during the Civil War.

Hamilton was a broker, a black man whose very existence flies in the face of our understanding of the way things usually were in New Yor

k in the middle of the 19th century. Far from being some novice feeling his way around the economy’s periphery, he was a Wall Street adept, a skilled and innovative financial manipulator. Unlike later black success stories who would make their fortunes selling goods to black consumers, Hamilton cut a swath through the lily-white New York business world of the mid-1830s, a domain where his depredations soon earned him the nickname of “The Prince of Darkness.” Others, with even less affection, simply called him “Nig*er Hamilton.”

Hamilton first made his mark in 1828, when he was just 21, running a large sum of counterfeit coins from Canada through New York to Haiti for a consortium of prominent New York merchants. Discovered, Hamilton, aided by several fishermen, escaped and lurked around Port-au-Prince harbor for 12 days until he could surreptitiously board a New York bound vessel. After he left, the Haitian authorities confiscated Hamilton’s chartered brig, the Ann Eliza Jane, and sentenced Hamilton, in absentia, to be shot. They nailed proclamations all over the island announcing this summary verdict and offering a $300 reward for him.

By the time of New York’s Great Fire of 1835, one of the most destructive events in the city’s history, Hamilton was renting an office on Wall Street. He profited handsomely from this disaster, taking pitiless advantage of several of the fire victims’ misfortunes to pocket some $5 million in today’s currency. Within months he joined in New York’s real estate boom, investing more than $7 million in today’s dollars to buy 47 lots of land at Hallet’s Cove, in present-day Astoria, and docks, wharves and tracts of land up the Hudson River in Poughkeepsie.

No one will ever erect a statue honoring Jeremiah Hamilton. He was no saint. He was more aggressive and more ruthless toward his competitors than most businessmen. But it’s understandable: for a black man to succeed he had to be at least as cavalier about such niceties as keeping within the law as his white contemporaries. Wall Street has never been a place for the faint of heart, but, in the antebellum era, with remarkably few rules of any sort yet established, New York businessmen played hardball and, at least initially sensing an easy mark, they lined up to play with Hamilton.

Hardly surprisingly, given the prejudice against African-Americans that was a commonplace, businessmen often discriminated against Hamilton. His relationship with the insurance industry was particularly fraught. In the 1830s, the New York insurance firms all agreed to blackball Hamilton by refusing to write policies for any of his ventures. Suggestions that Hamilton had conspired to scuttle heavily insured vessels were bandied about, and almost certainly had some truth to them. In 1843, the district attorney charged him with conspiring to defraud the Atlantic Insurance Company of $50,000. Eventually the case was dropped, but not before Hamilton sensationally burst into the police office one morning and claimed that the Atlantic Insurance Company had paid someone to lure the broker down to the end of Pier No. 1 on the Hudson (then known as the North River) at 9 p.m. and then to drown him.

He had his run-ins with the stock exchange as well. In 1845, the Public Stock Exchange passed a resolution that forbade members from buying or selling any shares for Hamilton under penalty of expulsion. As one newspaper commented: “the reason for this appears to be, that said Hamilton is a colored man; and so, forsooth, his money is not to be received in the same ‘till’ with theirs. Oh, ‘the land of the free and the home of the brave.’” For all that, brokers and merchants generally were more interested in the color of the black man’s money than his skin: regardless, Hamilton simply brushed aside all obstacles placed in his way, or connived to get around them, and carried on amassing his fortune.

Hamilton also wasn’t afraid to get personal, and even physical, with his enemies. In a court case in 1843, a Justice Merrit appeared as a witness and denigrated Hamilton’s character. Unable to restrain himself, Hamilton stood up in court and claimed the only reason Merrit had damned him thus was his “refusal to lend the Justice money.” Although proceedings were adjourned promptly, Hamilton and Merrit continued abusing one another as they left the chamber, then started jostling and eventually brawling on the steps of the Tombs (the building on Centre Street housing both the prison and courts). Merrit was striking Hamilton with his cane and the latter was energetically wielding a rung he had seized from a passing cart when the police intervened.

And yet for all of the disdain he attracted, financiers had to concede, time and again, that this black man was sharp as a razor and knew exactly what he was doing. Later, in the 1850s, Hamilton would engage in a titanic struggle with Cornelius Vanderbilt, America’s first tycoon and the epitome of unabashed capitalism, over control of the Nicaragua Transit Company. The day after Vanderbilt’s death on Jan. 4, 1877, an almost full-page obituary on the front of The National Republican newspaper acknowledged that, in the context of his Wall Street share transactions, “There was only one man who ever fought the Commodore to the end, and that was Jeremiah Hamilton.” The writer neither explained who Hamilton was nor even mentioned his skin color, only elaborating that although Vanderbilt “did not fear [Hamilton] because he never feared anybody,” without a shadow of doubt “the Commodore respected him.”

There was a startling disjunction between the financial world, where the black broker relished his predatory role, pursuing aggressively whatever edge he could find in his dealings with white businessmen, and his everyday existence on New York streets, ruled by an unforgiving and demeaning racial etiquette. At work Hamilton was, to borrow Tom Wolfe’s term, a master of the universe, but for the rest of the day and night he was barely a second-class citizen. For all the distance Hamilton put between himself and other African-Americans, to white New Yorkers seeing him about town, he remained just another Negro.

Any time Hamilton ventured outside, particularly if accompanied by his wife, there was the chance of an ugly scene. Hamilton was a racist’s nightmare, and an affront to the beliefs of a majority of New Yorkers. He was very successful, associated with whites – and married to a white woman. Eliza Morris had become pregnant with Hamilton’s child when she was just 13 or 14 and he was at least twice her age. They had nine more children, and their marriage lasted for some 40 years, until Hamilton’s death.

The Civil War merely heightened the absurdity of the black broker’s existence. On Wall Street, he carried on accumulating money, caring nothing about whom he upset. Hamilton was a master at manipulating speculations in shares where the client bore any loss but Hamilton reaped any profits, arrangements that spurred the disgruntled to take him to court regularly in these years. He gave scant, if any, thought to moderating his behavior or large style. On one occasion in 1864, he imperiously demanded of a white client, anxious to be given points and included in a deal, “an acknowledgment of his kindness.” Hamilton deemed a basket of bottles of champagne and a box of 600 cigars to be suitable, but he also made it clear that he “did not want any but the very best.”

Such cocksure behavior from a black man may have been tolerated on Wall Street, but on any other city street it was an incitement to a lynching. There were always New Yorkers more than willing to remind even this most successful of black men of his blackness and what that meant in a city rived by race. Nowhere was this clearer than in the Draft Riots that erupted in New York in July 1863.

On the second evening of rioting, somewhere between a dozen and a score of “men and boys,” turned onto East 29th Street and strode down the street as if they owned it, shouting out threateningly “68, 68, 68” – the number of the house where Jeremiah G. and Eliza Jane Hamilton lived. The white rioters kicked in the basement door and rushed up the internal stairs to the ground floor where they were confronted by the 40-year-old Eliza Hamilton — not only white but also, according to one of her husband’s obituaries, “a daughter of the Hon. Robert Morris of Philadelphia” — who told them Jeremiah Hamilton was away. No one doubted the intruders’ intentions. A curious neighbor ambled down the block to see what all the noise was about, only to have a lookout point a cocked pistol at his chest and tell him that “there is a nig*er living here with two white women, and we are going to bring him out, and hang him on the lamp post, and you stop and see the fun.”

After the Civil War, in the last decade of his life, Hamilton slowed down and took on a veneer of respectability. To be sure, one obituary still damned him as “the notorious colored capitalist long identified with commercial enterprises in this city.” But others were gentler, noting that, when he died, he was “with one exception, the oldest Wall Street speculator” and emphasizing that “his judgment in banking was highly esteemed, and he was often consulted by prominent bankers.” In May 1875, Hamilton was buried in his family lot in Brooklyn’s Green-Wood Cemetery, next to two of his daughters.

Jeremiah Hamilton’s life offers a way to consider, from the unusual perspective of a black man, subjects that are seen, without too much thought, as being quintessentially white, totally segregated from the African-American past: Wall Street, the stock exchange, the Great Fire and even journalism. Benjamin Day, founder of the pioneer New York Sun in 1833, was Hamilton’s best friend. Reputedly, Hamilton wrote several articles about banking that were published in that newspaper and was so closely associated with the Sun in the late 1830s that James Gordon Bennett, proprietor of the rival New York Herald, mistakenly thought for some time that the black man had bought the newspaper.

Hamilton continually defied contemporary expectations (and those of modern historians too) about African-Americans, turning up in the most surprising of places. When Hamilton, his wife and several children went on a European tour, they stopped over in Paris in late August 1870, just as the German armies were preparing to lay siege to the city.

When Hamilton died in May 1875, obituaries called him the richest black man in the United States, possessing a fortune of $250 million today's dollars. He lived out the American nightmare of race in his own distinctive fashion.

Shane White is currently writing a book on Jeremiah G. Hamilton.


Despite selling over 100 million records during her career, Dionne Warwick filed Chapter 7 bankruptcy six months ago.

Her son David Elliott (center photo) is a former cop. He and a friend wrote Luther Vandross's "Here and Now." The record won a Grammy (Vandross's first Grammy). Since this record is a standard and played at weddings, David earns $100,000-$250,000 per year in publishing royalties.

Damon Elliott (second photo) has written and produced for Destiny's Child, Beyoncé, P!nk, Gwen Stefani, Jessica Simpson, Christina Aguilera, Mýa, and Macy Gray. Damon’s production has earned him a Grammy and seven Grammy nominations.

Damon is President and CEO of "Confidential Records," under which he discovered, mentored, and released R&B artist Keyshia Cole. Elliott discovered Cole in 2002, developed her, signed her, and landed major label distribution for her debut album, "The Way It Is."

Damon is a multi-millionaire.

Singers don't make money (Dionne). The real money is in songwriting and production (David & Damon).


Rufus "Brooklyn Heavy" Boyd was the biggest name in Pro Stock and Outlaw street racing in the 1970's.

This man could demand $10,000-$250,000 per race on the underground circuit. He was also a big draw, wherever he raced, the venue was filled to capacity. He also won numerous races and was urged to race on the underground European circuit.

He was the rock star of racing. He was a colorful character with a great sense of humor and he loved to sign autographs and pose for photos.

He was known to show up with briefcases full of money. A few years later he showed up at Capitol Raceway with 13 cars.

Later it was rumored that the government raided his house and found over $1.5 million dollars. Rumors of drug trafficking surfaced. He later turned his life around for the better.

He died from diabetes in 2010.



"Crisis actors" are professional actors ostensibly deployed by government agencies and/or the mainstream media to delude the public with portrayals of trauma and suffering: specifically, to act as victims or witnesses in staged school shootings or hoax (false flag) attacks.

Perception Managers (PM's) have crisis actors on speed-dial.

A Perception Manager operates on an higher-level than a professional fixer.

This occupation is so rare that only two PM's exist in the world. They don't advertise and real PM's can't be found in search engines.

They can bury any secret, despite the attempts of the press to ferret it out. They can allegedly enhance wars based on "certain" truths. And when people start poking around, their work is hidden and insulated under layers of facts, figures and falsehoods that no one could ever reach them. Their work is basically untraceable, protected by electronic tunnels.

PM firms are paid enormous amounts of money by celebrities, politicians, tech billionaires and corporate raiders.

PM operatives operate out of digitized war rooms with hundreds of computers, enormous databases and an Internet pipeline that rivals anything in Google.

A Crisis Management TV series was pitched to several networks, each network passed on it because they didn't want the (general public) to be made aware of this shadowy industry.


The George Zimmerman hero story may have been concocted by a PM. Allegedly, Zimmerman has a few racist benefactors (multi-millionaires) who probably picked up the tab. More than likely, "crisis actors" portrayed the family saved by Zimmerman.


Several years ago, a politician running for re-election considered hiring a crisis actress. The scenario: While he was swimming, the crisis actress pretends to drown, he saves her. He's a hero and his numbers increase in the polls.

Several millionaires were considering (starting a war between two countries with bad blood between them). They were going to hire a crisis actor to appear in a scripted youtube video (hoping it would go viral). The actor would say that a certain country held him and his family hostage, his kids were starved to death and his wife was raped and murdered. They hoped this video would instigate a war between the two countries because oil profits would increase tenfold for the next decade, increasing each man's wealth to billionaire status.


Sylvester Magee's obituary proclaimed him to be "The Last American Slave." According to oral histories, Sylvester Magee was born in North Carolina on May 29, 1841 and sold at Enterprise, Mississippi. He was present at the Vicksburg siege and pressed into service in the Union army. Another source relates that Magee also had duties as a gravedigger in the Vicksburg burial details. By the mid-1960s, due to his advanced age, Sylvester Magee became nationally famous.

On his 124th birthday (above) the citizens of Collins, Mississippi threw him a party and Magee was sent a letter of congratulations from President Lyndon Johnson. Governor Paul Johnson even declared the day "Sylvester Magee Day." Magee took his first flight to New York for a television appearance and later flew to Philadelphia to appear on the Mike Douglas Show. He appeared in the March 1967 issue of Jet magazine, and was noted by President Richard Nixon as probably the oldest citizen of the United States, having been identified as the nation's oldest living person by a life insurance company.

When asked why he had lived so long, he simply stated that the Lord had been good to him. Reportedly, his last words were "Lord have mercy." Sylvester Magee was likely the last living human being who possessed any firsthand memory of the trials of the Civil War or institutionalized slavery.

Mr. McGee died on Oct. 21, 1971 at the age of 130.

Mary Walker from Chattanooga, Tennessee who was certified as "America's oldest student" when she learned to read at the age of approximately 116 years old. According to a 1966 article, she outlived a son who died in his nineties. It's possible that she would still be the most credible claimant to being the world's oldest female slave. Mary Walker even had a family Bible where she recorded the births of her children, which verified her story.

Additional information about Mary Walker is sketchy, is she still alive? If not, what year did she die?


A very rare commemorative booklet (above) that was given out at the 1963 March on Washington where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his famous "I Have a Dream" speech has a collage dedicated to Josephus, a man whom the march organizers designated as the "last living slave" in the United States (although Mary Walker and Sylvester McGee were still alive in 1963 as well). This collectable is currently selling on for $3,300.



Teddy Roe (August 26, 1898 - August 4, 1952) was an African-American mob boss who built an illegal gambling empire in South Side, Chicago during the 1940s and 1950s. Roe earned the nickname "Robinhood" because of his philanthropy among the neighborhood poor. After refusing to pay, "street tax," to the Chicago Outfit, Roe fatally shot a made man who had been ordered to assassinate him. In retaliation, Teddy Roe was murdered by an Outfit crew commanded by Sam Giancana on August 4, 1952.


Theodore L. Roe was born in Galliano, Louisiana to an African American sharecropper, and raised in Little Rock, Arkansas. As a child, he received no formal education, and when he was of age, he did odd jobs for a tailor and learned how to sew. Some time after that, he got involved in bootlegging and gained a notorious reputation as a colorful racketeer who could pass for white.

His career as a bootlegger ended after a few years and he moved to Detroit, where he worked in an automobile plant. When he was 31 years old, he took what he learned working for the tailor in Arkansas, and moved from Detroit to Chicago and began working for an African American tailor named Edward P. Jones. Shortly after Roe began working for Jones, Jones decided to get involved in policy and he made Roe his first “runner”, or salesman of lottery chances. Under the protection of politicians Edward Joseph Kelly and Patrick Nash, the Kelly-Nash Machine, Jones was making $2000 a day by 1930.

By 1938 he had increased his earnings to $10,000 per day and Roe was pulling down nice cuts from the profits. They soon caught the attention of Al Capone and his syndicate, and they set out to take over the numbers racket in Chicago. The Jones-Roe wheels were netting over $1.2 million annually, by 1946, the mob was plotting to move in on the Jones brothers and Roe. They kidnapped Ed Jones and held him for a ransom that included $100,000 and a promise to relinquish his policy business. Ted Roe paid the $100,000 ransom but after Jones was released, he decided not to give up his share of the business. However, the Jones brothers fled to Mexico, leaving the entire business to Ted.

Chicago Outfit capo, Sam Giancana, who was attempting to take over the Southside gambling operations, ordered an attempt to kidnap Ted Roe. On June 19, 1951, Ted ended up killing one of the kidnappers, Fat Lenny Caifano, who was not only a made man, but also the brother of capo Marshall Joseph Caifano.
The Chicago Police Department arrested Roe and charged him with murder. The following day, Chicago Police Detectives Ed Landis and Richard Barrett transported Roe to a court appearance. According to Detective Barrett's son, DEA agent Rick Barrett, "My Dad said the people of the neighborhood loved Roe. He was like a Robin Hood to them. Dad always said Roe was 'respected' because he refused to give in to the Italians, the Outfit. You know how they say, 'a crook with honor'? I guess that describes Roe. He was not a loudmouthed flamboyant jerk and definitely not a murdering thug like the drug lords who took over that same neighborhood years later."

To prevent the Outfit from murdering him, Roe was placed under heavy guard at the Cook County Jail. To prevent poisoning, Roe's meals were specially prepared outside prison walls. On June 25, 1951, Roe was further charged with conspiracy to violate the Illinois State anti-gambling statute.

Roe pleaded self-defense and his defense team was also able to link prosecutors to the mob causing key evidence against Roe to be thrown out. Roe eventually beat the case, but not before being denied bail six times before and during the trial proceedings. Upon beating the case, Roe thumped his chest and exclaimed to reporters, "They'll have to kill me to take me."

In their heyday, policy kings were the black community's banks and employers in Chicago. In the early part of the 20th century, segregation and economic discrimination had a devastating effect on African American communities throughout the United States, and at least in Chicago and some of the other major cities in the north, the policy industry generated a lot of cash money to poor cash-starved black neighborhoods. Policy kings put a lot of their earnings into legitimate businesses such as car dealerships and even churches.

Aside from running a smooth operation, Ted Roe is remembered for paying hospital bills for newborns, and funeral tabs for the deceased. On one occasion, an elderly woman who had hit the number with one of the shady gangster wheels in town, came to Roe to complain that the gang had not paid her her money for the hit. Ted and some of his boys went over to the men and persuaded them to give her her winnings. He has also been known to walk the streets of poor black neighborhoods passing out fifty dollar bills like they were bus transfers to needy people.

Theodore L. Roe lived in Chicago with wife Carrie until his death. He also had several relatives who lived in Dermott, Arkansas in Chicot County including a brother and a sister.

After Fat Lenny's murder, Sam Giancana masterminded a month long shakedown campaign against the Black bookmakers of Chicago. Dozens were shot at or blackjacked and others simply fled the city for ever. Meanwhile, Theodore Roe was holed up in his mansion on South Michigan Avenue, protected by a small army of bodyguards.

On August 1, 1952, Roe was told by doctors that he had stomach cancer and that it was inoperable. As a result, Roe stopped hiding and dismissed his bodyguards. On August 4, 1952, he dressed in a three-piece suit and hat and strolled down South Michigan Avenue. At around 10:00 p.m., as he was unlocking his car on the street outside his apartment, a voice called, "Roe!" He turned and was cut down by several shotgun blasts. He died slumped against a tree which still stands outside his former apartment at 5239 S. Michigan Ave.

Theodore Roe was laid out in a $3,500-$5,000 casket and received the biggest funeral of any Chicago African American since Jack Johnson in 1946. Thousands lined the streets to catch a glimpse of Roe's 81-car funeral procession. At Roe's funeral, Minister Clarence H. Cobb said: "He was a friend of man, and he had a pure heart."

The Outfit seized control of his policy wheels, and many felt that Theodore Roe had pushed his luck too far. That is, until his widow revealed a secret. Lucky Ted had terminal cancer, and had been given only months to live.

Over an FBI wiretap during the early 1970s, Giancana said of Roe, "I'll say this. N*gger or no n*gger, that bastard went out like a man. He had balls. It was a fuckin' shame to kill him."



Iceberg Slim wasn't the most successful pimp to come out of Chicago, that title belongs to Cadillac Baby Bell. Baby Bell traveled with 32 pieces of luggage and he pimped white women and Oriental women in the 1930's which was unheard of at the time. Bell was not only a pimp, he was also a hit man for an African American syndicate headed by the notorious Jones Brothers. Bell would become a multi-millionaire.


Iceberg Slim's mentor was a notorious pimp – and killer, named “Baby” Bell. Born Albert Bell in Omaha, Nebraska in 1899, Bell – a gambler at the time, migrated to the Windy City sometime in 1930 from Minnesota. It is then that he caught the attention of the infamous Jones Brothers, an organization which ran vice in Black Chicago.

According to newspaper clippings from the Chicago Defender, Baby Bell was a psychopath who had a penchant for murder. On June 4th 1943 Bell shot and killed a good friend in cold blood. The Black press and the Black community were enraged as popular attorney Euclid L Taylor (the Johnnie Cochrane of his time) got him acquitted. Bell also had high level political connections.

According to Slim's friend Lamar Hoke, Jr., Baby Bell was a “boss player” (as those in the life would say). “Here was a black man in the 1930’s mind you, that had a stable of Oriental prostitutes that used to chauffeur him around in his Duesenberg. He had a white ocelot that wore a diamond on its collar and had a long gold chain for a leash. He lived in an exclusively white area at a time when Black people didn’t do that kind of thing. He was politically connected downtown. He was virtually untouchable.”

Indeed Bell was invulnerable back then, according to the book Kings: The True Story of Chicago’s Policy Kings and Numbers Racketeers by Nathan Thompson, along with being a pimp, Bell was an enforcer/hit man for the Jones Brothers.

After the political climate changed, Bell was tipped off regarding an impending arrest. He committed suicide.

In Related News:

If Baby Bell was the King of Chicago's Black Underworld, Pepper Givens was certainly the Queen.

Pepper was an ex-call girl who taught Iceberg Slim sexual tricks.

She was also known as a sexual athlete and an bonafide freak.

Powerful men (Black and White) were sexually addicted to her throughout Chicago.

She was also a con woman (long con worth hundreds of thousands) and she was the mastermind behind high profile robberies that netted nearly a million in uncut diamonds, gold coins and cash.

She would eventually marry a rich white man. They resided in an expensive penthouse.

Like Baby Bell, Pepper was also affiliated with the notorious (millionaire) Jones' Brothers (below).



Born Edward Perry Jones Jr. on November 14, 1897, in Greenville, Mississippi, Ed was the oldest of the world famous Jones brothers: Edward, George, and McKissack (Mack). The Jones brothers ran a Policy station from the rear of their Jones Brothers Tailor Shop at 4312 South Indiana Avenue and wrote Policy for most of the big wheels like the Springfield and the Tia Juana. Like most station operators, the Jones brothers made 25% commission on everything they wrote. Ed's ambitions and drive, however, reached far beyond a simple 25% Policy station. At this point Ed was ready to become a wheel "owner" and had the tenacity, wit, financial genius and bankroll to do it with.

Here begins the story of how the Jones brothers cornered the market in Policy, becoming the richest African American family in the country with holdings in some of the country's most powerful corporations, cash in twenty-five different banks, and real estate holdings around the world in America, Spain, South America, Europe and Mexico. Along the way Ed would marry a gorgeous Cotton Club dancer, George would choose a vivacious society woman while Mack picked out a sexy Negro star of stage and song.


Greying, affable Ed Jones aka Emperor Jones is the biggest boss and at the same time the golden goose of Chicago's $25 million-a-year policy syndicate. As such, his well-being is the concern of thousands. His syndicate employs some 5,000 Negroes. Political bosses and ward heelers depend on him to deliver the vote; court officials and police get a healthy cut of the weekly $7,500 in syndicate protection money; the 337,000 citizens of Chicago's teeming Negro belt consider him a hero and a symbol. All of them insist that he remain free and happy.

Ed Jones was a big piece of Chicago. Besides a ranch in Mexico, a villa on the Riviera and an Illinois estate, he owned two mansions, a dairy, a variety store and three hotels in Chicago.

Joe Louis spoke on behalf of the Jones Brothers at the opening of his Bronzeville store and Bill ("Bojangles") Robinson had declared to the folks jamming the street: "You have God, Father Divine. . . . Now you have the Jones Brothers. ..."

In his manicured estate, Ed shaved in a $7,500 gold leaf bathroom, ate in a white-and-silver dining room at a glass-topped table, relaxed in a game room with a miniature pool table flanked by a rolling bar. Eighteen years ago Ed had been a Pullman-car porter. Now he has the golden touch.

Quincy Jones: My dad worked as a carpenter for the black mob, called the Jones Brothers, who ran the South Side of Chicago. My earliest memories are being pinned to a fence with a switchblade. It was nuts in those days, and it still is. One of my best friends was the daughter of one of the Jones brothers. When I was 7, she asked me to cut her hair. Now, she was about 5. I cut it all off. When my father found out he hit the roof. He was like, do you know whose daughter that is? He was scared to death the brothers were going to come after us, but nothing happened.




You are about to enter a very dark, twisted and sinister world that few people know about.

According to the FBI: 'Serial sexual homicide perpetrators commonly sexually assault animals before moving on to human beings.'

Sadly, the popularity of Animal Brothels are increasing in Germany.


You are so small and defenseless, you are terrified, in horrific pain, you have been bound and gagged by your torturer with no means of escape. You have been beaten and kicked until you are almost unconscious, then dragged into a room where your torturer has paid another to put you through so much physical and mental pain you are praying you won't survive.

Still conscious he will deliberately destroy your internal organs, your delicate pelvic bones will be smashed, your skin will literally be ripped to pieces. Your legs will be forced to breaking point, your muscles and ligaments shredded and torn from the bone where your attacker forces your limbs away from your body. So much pain, so much fear, so much horror for someone so tiny, so innocent to endure.

All the while you try to scream out in hopes that someone will help you, anyone, just to make this stop. You try to fight back but you cant, you are bound and your mouth has been gagged so you cannot defend yourself in any way.

You pray that death will be kind and take you to where you cant be hurt any more, because if you do survive, tomorrow or the next day, your owner will again take money from another, to abuse and rape you again.

You don’t understand what is happening to you. Why isn’t anyone coming to save you? Why is he doing this to you? What have you done so wrong that you have to endure this horrific ordeal?

The Truth Is:

You have done nothing wrong, you are an innocent. The reason he is allowed to do this to you is because you are in an animal brothel, in a country that has no laws to prohibit bestiality.

Laws in both Denmark and Norway are fairly open when it comes to a person’s legal right to engage in sexual activity with an animal. The law states that doing so is perfectly legal, so long as the animal involved does not suffer. According to a Danish newspaper, this interesting gap in the law has led to a flourishing business in which people pay in order to have sex with animals.

On the internet, several Danish animal owners openly advertise their services. A newspaper contacted several such individuals and was told that many of the animals have been engaged in this kind of activity for several years and that the animals crave the sexual stimulation. The newspaper found that the cost charged by the animal owners is $85-$170 in US dollars.



Samantha Lewthwaite aka 'The White Widow," was married to black terrorist Germaine Lindsay (they have 3 kids). After his death, Samantha hooked up with another black terrorist Jermaine Grant (2nd pic).

Samantha is considered the most dangerous and most wanted woman in the world!

Fast Forward:

Samantha Lewthwaite, a terrorism suspect on the run from police in East Africa, is allegedly recruiting and training all-female terror squads.

The 28-year-old woman is the widow of Germaine Lindsay, a suicide bomber who killed 26 people when he blew up a London subway train during the coordinated terror attacks of July 7, 2005. This earned her the nickname "White Widow" in the British press.

Lewthwaite, who is believed to be under the protection of the Somali terrorist group al-Shabaab, has been fleeing an international dragnet with her three children since December after being implicated by authorities in an Islamist plot to bomb hotels in Kenya.

Officials from Scotland Yard's counter-terrorism unit have joined the hunt for Lewthwaite in Kenya, according to the Belfast Telegraph.

An anonymous blog post on a radical Kenyan pro-jihadi movement website alleged that the Northern Ireland-born Lewthwaite is recruiting and training an "all-female mujahid [holy warrior] terror squad," the Telegraph reported. Kenyan police confirmed that the post was consistent with their intelligence, according to MSNBC.

According to handwritten notes believed to be authored by Lewthwaithe, which were included in a London police file obtained by the Daily Mail on Sunday, the woman is also raising her children to be Islamist jihads.



Five time boxing champion Emile Griffith died on July 23, reports the New York Times and Washington Post. Griffith became the Middleweight and Welterweight Champion of the World in the 1960s.

Emile Griffith's greatest professional victory came at a huge human cost. It was in a nationally televised March 1962 fight with Cuban boxer Benny "The Kid" Paret. Paret (above-left) mocked Griffith during the pre-fight weigh-in—they are seen above with Griffith at right—and called him a gay slur. Griffith literally beat Paret into a pulp and punched him 17 times in seven seconds. Paret died ten days later. The bloody boxing match became the basis for a decade-long ban on live, network broadcasts of boxing matches.

The 75-year-old Griffith suffered from pugilistic dementia and died at an extended care facility on Long Island. The cause of death was "kidney failure and complications of dementia.


As a youth, Emile Griffith never dreamed of becoming a boxer and was discovered by accident. As a teen he was working at a hat factory on a steamy day when his boss, the factory owner, agreed to Griffith's request to work shirtless. When the owner, a former amateur boxer, noticed his frame he took Griffith to trainer Gil Clancy's gym.

Griffith defeated middleweight contender Holly Mims but was knocked out in one round by Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. Up next, a rematch with Benny "The Kid" Paret.

In round 12, Griffith knocked Paret unconscious yet Paret stood, still propped up against the ropes while Griffith struck Paret repeatedly over the next several seconds before referee Ruby Goldstein stopped the fight. Griffith went to the hospital where Paret was being treated and unsuccessfully attempted for several hours to gain entry to Paret's room. Afterward, he ran through the streets while being insulted by passers-by. He would later receive hate mail from Paret's supporters who were convinced Griffith intentionally killed Paret. Paret never regained consciousness, and he died ten days later.

Griffith reportedly felt guilt over Paret's death and suffered nightmares about Paret for 40 years.

Sports Illustrated reported in its April 18, 2005, edition that Griffith's rage was fueled by an anti-gay slur directed at him by Paret during the weigh-in. Paret called his opponent a maricón, Cuban slang for "faggot," Griffith nearly went after him on the spot and had to be restrained.

Boxing fans believed Griffith wasn't the same after Paret's death. From the Paret bout to his retirement in 1977, Griffith fought 80 bouts but only scored twelve knockouts. He later admitted to being gentler with his opponents and relying on his superior boxing skills, because he was terrified of killing someone else in the ring.

In 1971, two months after they met, Griffith married Mercedes (Sadie) Donastorg, who was then a member of the dance troupe "Prince Rupert and the Slave Girls." Griffith adopted Donastorg's daughter.

After retiring from boxing, Griffith worked as a corrections officer at the Secaucus, New Jersey Juvenile Detention Facility.

In 1992, Griffith was viciously beaten and almost killed on a New York City street, after leaving a gay bar near the Port Authority Bus Terminal. He was in the hospital for four months after the assault. It was not clear if the violence was motivated by homophobia.

Griffith was quoted in Sports Illustrated as saying "I like men and women both. But I don't like that word: homosexual, gay or faggot. I don't know what I am. I love men and women the same, but if you ask me which is better... I like women."

Emile Griffith died July 23, 2013, at a care facility in Hempstead, New York. In his final years, he required full-time care and suffered from dementia pugilistica. His adopted son, Luis Rodrigo Griffith, was his primary caregiver.

by: Erica Taylor

The city of Sanford, Florida will forever go down in history as the place where Trayvon Martin was shot and killed. But the city is also haunted by racist memories of the past, dating back to the early days of Baseball Hall of Famer, Jackie Robinson. After Robinson joined the Brooklyn Dodgers, he was sent to train with their minor league team, the Montreal Royals, in Sanford, Florida. Upon arrival, Robinson was met by an angry white mob and members of the Ku Klux Klan. They refused to let Robinson practice on the field. It was reported that Robinson had to pry himself through a hole in the fence of the baseball field to join the Royals. It was unknown as to whether or not he actually took the field. Later that night, Robinson was forced out of town to avoid serious injury by racist haters.


Sanford, Florida’s nightmare of racial injustice went on for years after the Robinson incident. The story of black civil rights activists Harry and Harriette Moore (pictured above) plagued the community for years. Harry Moore founded the first branch of the NAACP in Sanford, Florida. The teacher was a known advocate for voter registration and the salary disputes of black teachers. Moore’s involvement led to an approximate 31 percent increase of black registered voters in the mid to late 1940’s.

Unfortunately, hatred stirred in the local KKK, which had widespread presence in the city. On December 25, 1951, the home of Harry and Harriette Moore was firebombed. It was the couples’ wedding anniversary. They died a few days apart.
Even now, decades after Jackie Robinson encountered one of the worst bouts of racism in baseball history and the death of the Moore family, accusations of racist police brutality and wrongful death continue to lie in the courtrooms of Sanford, Florida. The city, which is approximately 30 percent black, continues the investigation of the recent murders of three black men.


by: Gerry Smith

When the U.S. Navy created Tor, a software that enables people to use the Internet anonymously, it didn't envision someone like Edward Snowden.

Quite the opposite: military programmers originally built the software in the mid-1990s to support government spying operations.

Yet last month, a photograph of Snowden, who leaked a trove of secrets about U.S. government surveillance, showed a sticker on his laptop supporting the Tor Project, the nonprofit that runs the anonymity network.

The image underscored the diverse -- and sometimes conflicting -- community of people using and supporting Tor to communicate anonymously on the Web.

Tor, which can be downloaded online, operates like a browser -- albeit slower because it is bouncing packets of data across several continents to protect anonymity. Journalists, whistleblowers, domestic abuse victims and dissidents living under repressive regimes use Tor to bypass government censors and prevent their online movements from being tracked. The U.S. State Department provides funding to the Tor Project to promote Internet freedom in other countries.

But the anonymizing software has also been used by whistleblowers to leak sensitive U.S. government secrets. Though it's unclear whether Snowden used Tor to disclose details about NSA surveillance to reporters, Wikileaks has reportedly used the software to protect whistleblowers.

"Tor's importance to Wikileaks cannot be understated," Wikileaks founder Julian Assange told Rolling Stone in 2010.

While some use Tor to traffic government secrets, criminals also use Tor to peddle drugs, guns, murder-for-hire services and child pornography outside the reach of law enforcement, according to security experts.

And yet, for the Tor network to be truly anonymous, it must protect all who are using it -- even those whose actions are condemned by the U.S. government, Christopher Soghoian, the principal technologist at the American Civil Liberties Union, told The Huffington Post.

"When you create a technology that allows activists to communicate anonymously, you don’t get to pick which activists use it," Soghoian said.

"If you want a network that's safe for dissidents and journalists, you have to allow the pedophiles, too," he added. "You have to take the good with the bad."

Tor masks people's online activity by routing traffic through layers of servers, or "nodes," around the world. Its creators likened the encryption method to layers of an onion, giving the software its original name: "The Onion Router." About 500,000 people use Tor every day, according to the Tor Network, which consists of a global network of more than 3,000 volunteers who host servers and promote freedom of speech and online privacy.

Kelley Misata, a Tor Project spokeswoman, said recent disclosures about NSA surveillance have raised the public's consciousness about anonymity tools.

"With the recent news out there, people are becoming a bit more aware of prying eyes in their traffic," she said.

But the NSA revelations have also prompted Tor's supporters to disclose the network's limits in fighting government surveillance.

"By itself, Tor does not protect the actual communications content once it leaves the Tor network," the Tor Project said in a blog post last month. The group said the software is "a key building block to build systems where it is no longer possible to go to a single party and obtain the full metadata, communications frequency, or contents."

Soghoian said activity on Tor is unlikely to evade NSA surveillance. Yet its multiple layers of encryption remain useful for people evading government surveillance and censorship in Iran, Syria or China, as well as criminals looking to escape the watchful eye of law enforcement, he said.

"Just because the NSA can watch what's on the Tor network doesn't mean the sheriff in a small town can," he said.

Or the FBI. In 2011, the FBI said an investigation into an illegal child pornography site was stymied because the site operators used the software to mask their location.

"Because everyone (all Internet traffic) connected to the Tor network is anonymous, there is not currently a way to trace the origin of the website. As such, no other investigative leads exist," the FBI said at the time.

Joseph V. DeMarco, the former head of the cyber crime unit at the U.S. attorney's office in New York, said a criminal who uses Tor "means that avenue of investigation is blocked off."

DeMarco said the FBI has other investigative methods for tracking down cyber criminals, including search warrants and informants. But Tor makes it "extremely difficult, if not virtually impossible" for law enforcement to identify some illegal activity on the Internet.

"Does that mean some people will get away with crimes? Sure," he said.

Some security experts have suggested that Tor's backers should be held responsible for supporting technology that thwarts criminal investigations.

"Ultimately, as with states, anonymization services should be held accountable for their users’ behavior if they do not cooperate with law enforcement," Robert Knake, who is now director of cybersecurity for the White House, told a congressional committee in 2010.

But law enforcement also uses Tor to infiltrate illegal websites and catch criminals who use the software to hide from them, according to Soghoian.

In addition, Tor's creators -- those in the government -- say the more people using the network, the better. Tor's wide range of users, including those engaging in illegal activity, only further assist the software's original purpose: to cloak U.S. spying efforts, according to Michael Reed, one of Tor's original developers.

Of course, we knew those would be other unavoidable uses for the technology," Reed wrote in an online forum in 2011, describing Tor's use by criminals, dissidents and those seeking porn. "But that was immaterial to the problem at hand we were trying to solve (and if those uses were going to give us more cover traffic to better hide what we wanted to use the network for, all the better...)"

For now, the Tor Project says it is focused on improving the software's image by attending conferences to educate law enforcement and dispel the notion that Tor is primarily a haven for criminal activity.

"We live in a world where if you use anonymizing tools, people assume it's for nefarious reasons," Misata, the Tor Project spokeswoman, said. "We're trying to put the word out that they can be used for very benign reasons. As more people use it, it will feel less scary."

And as more people use it, it becomes easier for Tor users to blend into the crowd and remain anonymous.

Source: Huffington Post


by: John R. Moore

The earliest images showed Christ to be of a dark complexion (above). Jesus and His mother were accepted and worshipped in their original form (above) without any issues, but that started to change around 31 BC-AD 14.

These fake images of Jesus which Christians worship today are based on Cesare Borgia (above), a homosexual and mass murderer who was used as the model for the long blonde haired, blue eyed effeminate looking Christ, which Christians the world over have been bowing down to and worshipping for centuries.

It was during the Renaissance period after contact was made with Afrika, that the Dark Ages in Europe came to an end and paintings began to circulate portraying Mary and Jesus with white skin, blue eyes and blond hair. Many of the later paintings of Jesus Christ were based on Cesare Borgia, which in turn have influenced the majority of the portraits of Christ created from that point onwards.

History bears witness to the millions killed for not worshipping the false image of Christ. Rome and Spain dispatched the likes of Christopher Columbus, Hernan Cortes, Ponce De Leon, Arnericus Vespucci among others with armies to kill, enslave and also indoctrinate Blacks and native Indians into Christianity.

When Altobello Melone painted his portrait of Christ around 1520, he drew inspiration from an earlier Cesare Borgia painting, but distorted the distinctions between the faces and ethnicities of the most holy figure with one of the most corrupt.

The portrayal of Jesus in art form took centuries to reach the accepted standardized format for His physical appearance and consequently remained consistent. Illustrations of Jesus were now being depicted as full frontal portrayals with distinctive facial characteristics, shoulder length hair, an extended thin nose, and a parted beard.

The image of the true Christ has been transformed to the likeness of a European, totally eliminating the original Afrikan image and replacing it with the misleading one commissioned by the Catholic Church.

These seemingly innocent pictures were one of the vehicles used to perpetuate the system of White Supremacy, even though history and archaeology have long supported the reality that the people who wrote and distributed the Bible were non-European and non-white. In fact, there was no European in the known world at the time when history was being recorded, since everyone was genetically Black.

This Warner Sallman's “Head of Christ” depiction of 1940 (above) is regarded as the most popular image of Jesus of all time. This image has been deeply engraved in our minds from childhood, perhaps because it was reproduced using a variety of different channels.

This portrait has been reprinted over 500 million times, making it one of the most recognized pieces of art, and it has been used to embellish the pages of the Bible, Sunday school literature, calendars, posters, church bulletins, bumper stickers, lamps, buttons, the walls of Sunday School classrooms, church offices, homes, etc.

As Europe started to prosper, a campaign was initiated to circulate the model of a white Jesus to the world at the time when the Bible was being translated from the black languages to English. The Bible was in existence among Black people long before it was translated into any European language. The first English version of the Bible was available around the time of Wycliffe 1380-93, with a King James Version coming in 1611. Europeans began adding misleading pictures of the blonde, blue-eyed man and his disciples on Bible end-pages and inserts, thereby deceiving the world into believing that salvation came through a white savior.

David Morgan, an art historian, interviewed hundreds of people about their feeling regarding Sallman's “Head of Christ” portrait. One woman said the picture appeals to her because it shows, "just what Jesus looked like."

Today, many ignorantly worship these blasphemous images pointing out that color does not matter, though we have been given a clue in the Old and New Testaments confirming that He and His people were of color and not white as advocated by the calculated lies concocted by Satan and his followers to deceive the world.

According to the bible, Christ’s head and his hairs are described as white like wool, but in these phony paintings of Christ, the woolly hair has been replaced with a straight European hair style.

Rev. 1:14 clearly states, "His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire.” "White like wool," refers to the hair texture. The only people on earth that have a woolly hair texture are those of the Negroid Race whose hair in its natural state is like the wool of a lamb. If Black people do not cut or comb their hair, it will lock together and become woolly over time.

Jesus is called the Lamb of God with His woolly, nappy hair which is usually compared to lamb's wool. When Jesus was first portrayed in the catacombs of Rome, He was depicted as the Good Shepherd, and as a black, beardless, woolly haired young man. The image of Jesus above (also featured at the beginning of this article) was found in a church in Rome in AD 530.

As Christianity became the state religion, the images of Jesus began to take on a more European appearance. From then on a new distinctive look was fabricated portraying Jesus in royal robes with shoulder length hair, a beard and a halo.

Such Images began to dominate the world of art, becoming universally accepted, so to continue hiding the critical truth about the Afrikan Christ, armed guards protect the entrances to the catacombs to prevent anyone from viewing the original wall carvings of Jesus in his original Afrikan appearance.

The original man was Black and created in the image of God his Father, yet the original man continues to proudly accept and worship a counterfeit white savior.

Many Black paintings and statues of Christ, Madonna, the Apostles and other Biblical characters from early Christian worship still exist today however. The most sacred and holiest icons of the Catholic Church and prominent cathedrals in Europe even now continue to display"The Black Madonna and Christ child," pictured above.

Also, in the British Museum there is a gold coin that was minted and engraved at the time of the Roman emperor Justinian II showing an image of Jesus with tightly curled, woolly hair and Negro features while on the other side there is an imprint of Justinian, showing him with straight hair and European features.

How many white Christians in the world would remain in the faith when they come to accept the truth about the real Jesus?

It is time that the distorted portrayal of the Jews and Jesus Christ in movies such as ''The Passion of Christ," and other materials that render Christ and the Jews as white people be exposed as totally false.


Back in the late 1920's & early 1930's, Blanch Calloway was as popular as her brother Cab Calloway (2nd photo). He is documented as saying SHE is the reason he wanted to be an entertainer, and some say that Cab's flamboyance on stage was actually a facsimile of Blanche's onstage antics. Others say she was the first female bandleader to lead an all-male unit called the "Joy Boys," which consisted of members of the orchestra known as "Andy Kirk & His Clouds of Joy." With skill, showmanship and direction as a leader, it is no surprise that Calloway's organization has gone down in history for having a female leader in a time when women musicians were not taken seriously.

Blanche Calloway's looks appeared fair and almost delicate but she was anything but! She could be rough, ready and almost raunchy in her vocals. She was a tough, shrewd businesswoman and later played an extremely important role in the rise of Ruth Brown's career during the 1950's. Before the quick rise (and fall) of her own career, Blanche was a cosmetics "tycoon" with her own skin care "empire" that sold preparations designed specifically for women of color.

In this 1932 print ad for "Black and White Bleaching Cream," the lady tycoon (Blanche Calloway) peddles a peroxide concoction that boasts a skin lightener so powerful that it sunk all the way "down beneath the four layers" of the skin where the "coloring" took place.



Yes! According to numerous historians. Even William Jelani Cobb (historian) at Spelman College thinks the William Lynch speech as a hoax.

This letter (referred to as a chain letter) has been in print since the 1970's and was allegedly authored by a Black college student.

The letter was popularized at the Million Man March in 1995 when it was referred to by Minister Louis Farrakhan.

The text contains numerous anachronisms, including words and phrases such as "refueling" and "fool proof" which were not in use until the early 20th century. The many words and terms used in this speech are out of their proper historical time period.

Also, there is a large body of written materials from the slavery era, yet there is not one reference to a Willie Lynch speech given in 1712. This speech was never mentioned by any slavemasters, pro-slavery advocates, abolitionists or historians studying the slavery era.

Allegedly, the speech took place on the banks of James River in 1712, no documented evidence (including newspaper archives and microfiche) supports this claim.

Despite all this, the alleged Lynch hoax is so widespread that this alleged (fictional) speech is amazingly used as required reading by some college professors.



Rapper Too Short's biggest influences were pimps Ron Newt (above) and Gangsta Brown (Divine Brown's pimp). One of Brown's prostitutes actually earned him $1 million in one month. Against the wishes of the Michael Jackson Estate, Newt has released a book regarding his association with Jackson, titled "All The Glitters Is Not Gold!"

In the 80's, Newt's son's formed a group called the "Newtrons." They caught the attention of Joe Jackson. Newt and his sons moved into the Encino mansion. Michael gave Newt early Jackson 5 tapes to study.

Years later, when Michael was accused of child molestation, according to Newt, the National Enquirer offered him $20,000 to say Michael molested his sons while they stayed at the Encino mansion. Newt declined the offer.







Multiple news outlets have reported on the recent torture, murder and mutilation of a mid-western trans rapper. The rapper, Evon Young went missing.

The official story is that 5 men (above) were arrested for torturing, mutilating, murdering, immolating and then throwing Evon in a dumpster because someone thought Evon maybe stole something… or maybe it’s that Evon was killed as part of a gangland initiation rite… or may it’s that Evon was killed in a burglary gone wrong.

While the official story might not always agree with itself, one thing’s for certain: Evon’s trans status HAD NOTHING TO DO with what happened to him because nobody knew about Evon’s trans status. This line is repeated in just about every story about Evon. Also, officials and media have been very clear about another thing: Evon was a she. Born Ebony Young.

According to Evon/Ebony's friend-James:

I met him years ago. The last time I talked to him he said we should go out clubbing together. He and I got along well. I’ve got tattoos, which were an interest of his… so we talked about that often.

He lived completely as a man. He had girlfriends. He had facial hair. I know he used the mens restrooms.

He and his brother got into playing rap shows and recording music. Jovan got him into it but Ebony really took it seriously. I would talk with Jovan regularly about how to market their music and how to promote their shows. He didn’t seem to push the macho envelope too hard. It seems like his music is mostly about partying. I don’t think he subscribed to much of the thug gangsta image.

Jovan just recently had his first child, which seems to be helping out a lot since his brother’s death.

When Ebony went missing my initial fear was that someone had murdered him after finding out about his gender status. I had a gut instinct that something bad was going to happen to him, considering the crowd that he and his brother had been running with. He didn’t seem to have any connection back to a transgender supportive community so it felt like it was only a matter of time.

Jovan’s friends would go on homophobic rants. [They would tell] Jovan that he would beat up and disown his own children if they came out as being gay or transgendered. After a string of ignorant talk about that hypothetical situation, I could tell that Jovan seemed uncomfortable with the conversation. I felt bad that Jovan was having to deal with a close friend being so openly hostile towards something that exists in his family.

Ebony had gone missing on New Years Eve. I learned about it around January 3rd. A university student named Nick Wilcox went missing that New Years, and his name was all over the news by January 2nd. The first new report on Ebony was on January 7th. Supposedly, the family had to contact a Chicago news station to get any media attention. They were the ones who finally got the Milwaukee news on the case. There’s some understandable anger in the family that it took so long for the media to cover the story.

I believe that the media response was so atrociously slow because a missing black male rapper doesn’t interest the suburban demographic the local news here in Milwaukee tries to cater to. The missing white UWM student was plastered on the news wall to wall for weeks before Ebony’s news got out. I believe that the transgender issue made the crime more entertaining and that’s why it’s now getting some traction.

I heard Ebony’s roommate knew more about his disappearance than he was telling anyone. I was nervous that his gender status might have been discovered and that something bad had happened.

I heard at some point someone burglarized the apartment that Ebony and his roommate lived in. The roommate had a bunch of musical equipment stolen, but nothing of Ebony’s was missing. Supposedly they attacked Ebony for being responsible for the theft.

The brutality of the murder was out of the ordinary, though.

From what I’ve been told, they’d originally decided to beat him up for the robbery but when they discovered he was female in the process, it pushed the violence to an extreme level.

The official story is that nobody – not even the Evon’s roommate, Billy Griffin – knew of Evon’s trans status.

Evon’s last moments were gruesome. He was tied up. A bag was placed over his head and he was beaten. When Evon passed out, he was beaten harder… with blunt instruments. Then, he was shot multiple times and mutilated. After that, they set him on fire… and then threw him away in a dumpster. After Evon’s murders stripped him of his life, both the media and public officials stripped him of his identity.

ANNAPOLIS — Beach vacations often make vivid memories, and those made at Carr’s Beach still linger — the sights and sounds of family get-togethers, church-organized picnics and star-studded performances by blues, R&B; and jazz musicians.

Though it no longer exists as a getaway spot, Carr’s Beach — along with neighboring Sparrow’s Beach — was one of two Chesapeake Bay resorts for blacks in Anne Arundel County during the days of Jim Crow segregation. Owned by sisters Elizabeth Carr Smith and Florence Carr Sparrow, Carr’s and Sparrow’s beaches were the summertime retreat for black families a half-century ago.

“Well, you also had Sandy Point, but there were separate facilities there, and you couldn’t use the entire beach. There was a black side and a white side,” says D.C. native Navada Smith, 62, who began going to Carr’s for daylong church excursions in the 1950s.

“At Carr‘s, you always felt safe. You never felt like a second-class citizen,” Miss Smith says, her salt-and-pepper dreadlocks encircling her shoulders. “As an African-American, going there was always a part of our social activities.”

On occasion, Carr’s also served as a site for baptisms. But Sunday afternoons brought salvation of a different sort when some of the biggest names in music played before thousands of listeners.

“People could be in the water swimming, but come 3 p.m. when the big show started, they’d all rush out the minute the bands started playing,” says historian and filmmaker Deni Henson.

From its beginning as a public beach in 1929, Carr’s Beach became in its heyday a key stop along the so-called “Chitlin Circuit,” the network of clubs, bars and parks along the East Coast and in the South, where black entertainers could perform.

Among the acts that Carr’s featured: New Orleans boogie-woogie pianist Fats Domino; crooner Arthur Prysock; jazz greats Ray Charles, Duke Ellington, Count Basie and Lionel Hampton; soul performers Tammi Terrell, Wilson Pickett, Lloyd Price, James Brown, Jackie Wilson, Stevie Wonder, Little Richard, the Coasters and Sam & Dave; and vocal dynamos Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Dinah Washington, Sarah Vaughan and Aretha Franklin.

Rock ‘n’ roll pioneer Buddy Holly also performed at Carr‘s.

“Whites came to Carr‘s, too,” says Louise Smith, 87, a descendant of the beach’s founders. “If you enjoyed music, you came to Carr‘s. Color didn’t matter. It was a safe and welcoming environment.”

Bobby Bennett, host of XM Satellite Radio’s “Soul Street,” recalls: “The Washington-Baltimore area was usually the last stop before all these acts headed down South to perform.

“Generally, they’d already played the Howard Theatre in D.C. or the Royal in Baltimore, so they stopped off at other places on the Chitlin’ Circuit like Carr‘s, Sparrow’s Beach or Wilmer’s Park in Brandywine to get a little gas money and pocket change before they continued on,” says Mr. Bennett, author of “The Ultimate Soul Music Trivia Book.” “It wasn’t like it is today, with stars going first-class on planes. Back then, they all traveled by car.”

Aside from beach goers in the District and Baltimore, Carr’s attracted East Coast day-trippers from Delaware, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh, even Ohio.

Locals remember the rivalries between D.C. beach goers and Annapolis natives during impromptu dance contests (called “jams”), the shore side pony rides, the annual Miss Carr’s Beauty Pageant and the resort’s large Ferris wheel.

They still talk about the penny and nickel slot machines, and occasionally whisper about the day that a worldly Grammy Award-winning blues singer left town with one of the town’s dashing young men after finishing her set.

Those older than 60 can recall the ride from the District along Maryland Route 214 East, where the urban asphalt morphed seamlessly into the dusty roads leading to the Annapolis coastline. Armed with picnic baskets bearing treats wrapped in wax paper, they made the 33-mile trip by car, bus, train — or even hay wagon.

“The hayride would pick you up from a certain spot in D.C. and we’d head out on that one-lane highway. I just remember it being so far away,” says Sam Clyburn, 69, who recalls Sunday excursions to Carr’s as a teenager to see performers such as the Clovers, the Coasters, the Orioles and blues great “Big” Joe Turner.

Admission to the beach was just 10 cents per person, Mrs. Smith says.

“I can remember people hiding in the trunk and squatting on the floor of the back seat to avoid paying,” says Yvonne Borders, 61, who lives in Maryland but grew up in Southeast.

Consumed by redevelopment, Carr’s began fading in the late 1960s. A sewage treatment plant and gated waterfront community of luxury condominiums now stand on the site.

The final concert came in 1974, when Baltimore-born rocker Frank Zappa took the stage. An estimated 8,000 fans had to be turned away from the standing-room-only event.

But new interest in Carr’s Beach is increasing.

Miss Henson’s 90-minute documentary about the resort, “Sands of Time,” will open next year during Annapolis Charter 300, a birthday salute to Maryland’s capital city.

“This is a story that needs to be told,” Miss Henson says. “You have children right here in Annapolis who don’t know this area’s history and what these remarkable women did in segregated America.”

In May, Annapolis officials conducted a ceremony to change the name of Edgewood Road to Carr’s Beach Road.

And efforts spearheaded by Annapolis Alderman Sam Shropshire are under way to maintain Carr’s remaining 6½ undeveloped acres as a nature preserve.

“We’d like to preserve it as part of the Annapolis City Parks system,” Mr. Shropshire says.

Preserving Carr’s history is necessary because “we’re trying to dispel the myth that people of color don’t care about the environment or economics,” says historian and author Vincent O. Leggett, who specializes in black maritime history and culture.

“The Carr’s story is such a phenomenal story because it pulls together so many aspects of African-American life along the Bay,” says Mr. Leggett, director of special projects and coordinator of the Patapsco-Back River Tributary Team for Maryland’s Department of Natural Resources. “The man who wins the war writes the history.”



Before Judy Smith (real life Olivia Pope) became the most powerful fixer in Washington, D.C., Clark Clifford (3rd photo) held the title. Clifford was an ultra-connected lawyer/fixer who worked for the following Presidential administrations: Harry S. Truman, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, Jimmy Carter and Ronald Reagan, Clifford also served as the United States Secretary of Defense under Lyndon B. Johnson. Clifford's fixer work made him wealthy and he was considered one of Washington's "super-lawyers" due to his influential reach and his limitless connections. Clifford was renowned for his effortless charm, style and discretion and his office overlooked the White House. In his later years, Clifford became involved in several controversies (below).


Clark Clifford served as an officer in the U.S. Navy from 1944 to 1946, reaching the rank of Captain and serving as assistant naval aide and then naval aide to President Truman (1st-photo, directly above), for whom he became a trusted personal adviser and friend. Following his discharge from the Navy, he remained at Truman's side as White House Counsel from 1946 to 1950, as Truman came rapidly to trust and rely upon Clifford.

Clifford was a key architect of Truman's campaign in 1948, when Truman pulled off a stunning upset victory over Republican nominee Thomas Dewey.

In Oct. 1952, photocopies of sworn affidavits allegedly made in 1944 by members of the Missouri Ku Klux Klan supported their charge that President Harry Truman had once been a member of their Klan chapter. Walter Winchell's release of the documents created an uproar. Truman's press secretary denied the story. To this day, the truth or the falsehood of the charge remains undetermined although internet sites reporting on Truman's life confirm-allegedly, he was a Klan member.

In 1991, Clifford's memoirs "Counsel to the President," (co-authored with Richard Holbrooke, later U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations) were published just as his name was implicated in the unfolding Bank of Credit and Commerce International (BCCI) scandal. The scandal focused on the criminal conduct of the international bank and its control of financial institutions nationwide.

The bank was found by regulators in the U.S. and the United Kingdom to be involved in money laundering, bribery, support of terrorism, arms trafficking, the sale of nuclear technologies, the commission and facilitation of tax evasion, smuggling, illegal immigration, and the illicit purchases of banks and real estate. The bank was found to have at least $13 billion in unaccounted funds.
From 1982 to 1991, Clifford served as chairman of First American Bankshares, which grew to become the largest bank in Washington, D.C. The bank was nominally owned by a group of Arab investors, but in order to assuage fears from the Federal Reserve, Clifford had assembled a board of distinguished American citizens to exercise day-to-day control.

Clifford's predicament worsened when it was disclosed he had made about $6 million in profits from bank stock that he had bought with an unsecured loan from BCCI. The grand jury handed up indictments, and the U.S. Justice Department opened its own investigation. Clifford's assets in New York City, where he kept most of his investments, were frozen.

Clifford insisted that he had no knowledge of illegal activity at First American, and insisted that he himself had been deceived about the extent of BCCI's involvement.

Clark Clifford died from natural causes in 1998 at the age of 96. He was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

After his death, Judy Smith would emerge as the most powerful political fixer in Washington, D.C.


Lincoln Perry was ghetto-fabulous long before the term was ever coined. Long before the tabloid headline antics of singer Chris Brown, and the often vulgar displays of NFL and NBA superstars, he was the original bad boy of Black Hollywood. Known to the world as Stepin' Fetchit, he was derisively referred to as "the world's laziest man" and the "white man's negro" during the silent screen era and early 1930's Hollywood. Over on the darker side of town, Central Avenue was the nucleus of the entertainment community where most of black Hollywood were relegated, and it was definitely where they partied. As Perry's alter ego, Stepin' Fetchit played the fool on the silver screen much to the chagrin of other blacks, but looks can very often be deceiving. Step was a brilliant comedian from the old-school of minstrelsy and vaudeville, and in the process he became one of the highest paid African American entertainers of the mid-twentieth century.

His salary ranked among the top of Negro entertainers, it was still far less than that of his Hollywood peers. Still, Perry tried to match the bonafide kings of Hollywood with style and extravagant tastes, expensive clothes, and cars. Along with all of that came all the rest like the public brawls, arrests, outrageous court cases and the numerous suspensions (and rehires) from the movie studios. And then there were the young women! Teenagers, actually!

On the other hand, Lincoln Perry was a man of ostentatiousness, if not downright style. In real life, he was the new high-steppin', hip dressin' fella who had it all together while wearing custom designed and imported cashmere suits, some costing as much as $1000 a piece. Much of his wardrobe was reported to have been purchased (and retailored) directly from Rudolph Valentino's tailor after the death of the 20's movie icon in 1926. Lincoln Perry often referred to himself in such a way that clearly elevated him among the elite of Hollywood and something more than what society and the entertainment industry confined him to. Unfortunately, the free-wheeling spending and recklessness would eventually catch up with him.

Stepin' Fetchit's public feuds with other black male entertainers like Bill "Bojangles" Robinson and actor Clarence Muse are legendary.

With fame and the illusion of power, many women made themselves available. But Step was more attracted to the teenaged girls who may have been a bit more dazzled by the hi jinks and lavish attentions of an older man. In fact, 16 seemed to be the magic age! He was already thirty-something in the spring of 1929, when he met a pretty auburn-haired high school student named Dorothy Stevenson, who aspired to be a chorus girl. A few months later, they were married. Before their short courtship began, Perry had also been involved with 17 year old Yvonne Butler, another aspiring chorus girl. After his marriage to Dorothy, Yvonne sued him for an alleged breach of promise to marry her, asking $100,000 in damages. He agreed to a compromise settlement of $5,000 - 2,500 cash and $50 a week for fifty weeks.

Dorothy Stevenson Perry filed for divorce in 1931 after Step allegedly broke her nose, jaw and chin with "his fists and a broomstick" during a brawl. Step said that as a "practicing Catholic" divorce was not an option, and they separated as Mrs. Perry's health rapidly deteriorated from tuberculosis.

Dorothy Stevenson Perry died in the fall of 1934. Her funeral drew hundreds from the ranks of black entertainment and is said to have been filmed by cameramen from Fox studios.

Perry's romantic relationships with underaged girls was scandalous! There was a "marriage of convenience" with Wini Johnson, a gorgeous teenaged showgirl from The Cotton Club, whose blistering affair with Perry was the gossip of Harlem and the black press in the late 1930's.

Step's dangerous liaison with 16 year old Juanita Randolph (left) finally put the fading, 41 year old actor behind bars in 1943. The bungalow in Los Angeles where he lived with his first wife, parents, chauffeur, Mrs. Jones the maid and whippet were but a memory. And for the most part, so was his career.

Source: Illkeepyouposted. Photo Credits: Chicago Tribune



White conservative blogs are running the following story and the above images in defense of George Zimmerman's not guilty verdict.


In April 2009, neighborhood watchman Roderick Scott (42) of Greece, New York, shot and killed 17-year-old Christopher Cervini, claiming that he had confronted Cervini and two others as they were stealing from parked cars in the neighborhood
Scott says he acted in self defense when he confronted Cervini and two others saying they were stealing from neighbors' cars. He told them he had a gun and ordered them to freeze and wait for police.

Scott says he shot Cervini twice when the victim charged toward him yelling he was going to get Scott.

Scott was promptly arrested on a charge of second-degree murder that was subsequently dropped to manslaughter by a grand jury, a charge which his lawyer moved to have dismissed by arguing that Scott had acted in self-defense:

Roderick Scott is charged with first-degree manslaughter in the death of Christopher Cervini, 17, and has previously pleaded not guilty, saying he believed the teen and two others could be breaking into cars in the area.

Scott's defense attorney, John Parrinello, filed court papers seeking to have the manslaughter charge dropped, arguing Scott acted in self-defense when he shot Cervini.

Parrinello asked for an order of dismissal, saying there is no proof that Scott intended to hurt Cervini. "There's no doubt, Christopher Cervini died by his own hand, his own conduct," said Parrinello.

That motion was denied.

Scott testified in his own defense, maintaining that after he confronted three individuals who were purportedly rummaging through parked cars looking for items to steal, Cervini had run at him, screaming, and he [Scott] shot Cervini to protect himself:

Scott said on April 4, he was sleeping on the couch, because he and his girlfriend had a disagreement. In the early morning he awoke and heard voices. He looked out the front door to see what was going on outside.

He testified he saw three individuals who were in his driveway, saw them walk out and cross the street, then walk up to a neighbor's vehicle, pulling on the latch and handles of the neighbor's truck. He then went upstairs, told his girlfriend Tracy that someone was breaking into a vehicle, and told her to call 911. He grabbed his pistol, for which he has a permit, "to protect myself" then went outside.

Scott said his intent was "to stop or detain the criminals," not to shoot anyone. He walked down the driveway and over to 39 Baneberry Way. He saw one person standing on a

sidewalk, and some rummaging going on inside a vehicle, which had the dome light on.

At that point, Scott testified he pulled his handgun out of the holster, and chambered a round. "I wanted to protect myself and I intended to," Scott said.

He walked toward the individual, who started to walk away toward Manitou Road. He did not tell that individual to stop. It's believed that individual was Brian Hopkins.

At this point, Scott was a foot or so off the sidewalk, and he saw someone rustling around inside the vehicle at 39 Baneberry. He testified he clearly saw two individuals. He drew his pistol and assumed the a shooter's stance. "I didn't know what I was up against, or if they were armed," Scott said.

He told the individuals to stop, that his girlfriend had called 911, and that he had a gun. The individuals stopped, and a few seconds passed. Scott says the teens were talking, then one of them ran around the front of the truck. The other ran down the driveway toward him, screaming. Scott warned him he had a gun, then shot him.

He assumed the boy may have been armed.

"I felt if he got to me he would try to kill me or hurt me," Scott testified.

Scott [said he] fired at Cervini when Cervini ran in his direction, but the prosecution claims the young man was shot in the back, indicating he would have been headed in the opposite direction.
After trial and two days of deliberations in December 2009, jurors acquitted Scott on the manslaughter charge:

After more than 19 hours of deliberations over two days, a jury acquitted [Roderick Scott] in the shooting death of Christopher Cervini, 17.

As deliberations dragged on over two days and the jury asked for testimony to be read back, Scott admits he didn't know how it would all turn out.

"I was nervous of course," he said. "You never know what direction this whole thing is going to turn, so I have no idea. But it worked out and I feel that justice (was) served today."

Cervini's family members say justice wasn't served. They say Christopher was murdered in cold blood, that he'd never been in trouble and Scott acted as judge, jury and executioner.


The fact that her parents were slaves and that she was born on a farm in Selma, Alabama must have escaped Lulu White's memory when she declared that she should be exempt from the extreme racism that other women who looked like her endured on a daily basis. Interviewed by a local newspaper in 1894, Miss Lulu wanted everyone to know that she was born and raised in the West Indies, and that there wasn't a drop of American Negro in her (which was a lie).

Loud, rude and obnoxious, Lulu arrived in New Orleans in the 1880's, accompanied by a very dark-skinned man who was said to be her stepfather. She immediately embarked on a career of vice and became the darling of the local police precinct having been arrested countless times on charges of prostitution, disorderly conduct, and numerous other infractions that included white slavery. She was said to be short, plump and unattractive. In her prime, she was attired in elaborately beaded gowns, and diamonds on every finger, up both arms, on her neck and every other place imaginable, White was an unforgettable presence.

It is said that Mae West, the Hollywood star, based her iconic turn in the film, The Belle of the Nineties, soley on Lulu White. West's alias, "Diamond Lil" (clearly a prostitute) became known on film as Lady Lu, and was obviously inspired by Miss White. Whatever anyone thought of her, she was certainly fascinating enough to attract the attentions of various well-to-do men about town, including an oil man, a railroad baron and a department store magnate. Their collective bank accounts helped finance the building of Mahogany Hall at forty thousand Dollars-which equals to about a cool $1 million dollars in today's economy.

The district known as Storyville was established in 1897 and flourished until 1917. It was set up by local authorities to monitor prostitution and limit it to one area of town. It was already established by law that white and black prostitutes could not live or work in the same house and black men were not welcomed as patrons no matter what. However, many old-timers recalled that that there were houses of ill repute that were run by black madams who staffed only black girls available to black men exclusively. There is also a pre-Storyville record of a homosexual brothel that "was known for large scale, noisy, interracial social functions that frequently attracted the wrath of neighbors and police."

The popular and ambitious Lulu White moved from a well-appointed mini-mansion to the four-story, ornately furnished Mahogany Hall. Originally called the Hall of Mirrors, it was built of solid marble with a stained glass fan window over the entrance door (seen above). The whole house was steam heated and boasted five parlors, an elevator made for two, and fifteen bedrooms with hot and cold running water. There, Gen. Jack Johnson, the 40 inch tall, black midget doorman-turned-pimp stood guard to keep out the undesirables.

Lulu White, the Octoroon Queen, "made a feature of boarding none but the fairest of girls - those gifted with nature's best charms, and would, under no circumstances, have any but that class in her house." In its heyday, Mahogany Hall housed as many as 35 to 40 "octoroon" prostitutes - technically girls of mixed-race backgrounds but specifically with only one quarter African ancestry. As their queen, she made the whorehouse a showplace!

"They had the most beautiful parlors, with cut glass and draperies, and rugs, and expensive furniture ... and the girls would come down dressed in the finest of evening gowns, just like they were going to the opera. They were just beautiful. Their hair-do's were just so, and I'm telling you that Ziegfeld didn't have any more beautiful women as those. Some of them looked Spanish, and some were Creoles, some brown skins, some chocolate brown. But they had to have that figure" remembered the legendary jazzman, Clarence Williams. Early jazz and ragtime musicians were often the only black men allowed on the premises as piano players at the best bordellos.

Storyville had its own press! It was located on the top floor of a saloon that Lulu White owned. There, they printed guidebooks that advertised the district, the whores and the whorehouses. They were distributed free to barroom owners and sold for a quarter to potential customers. Lulu White is the only madam who had her own Blue Book!

LuLu was eventually shut down by the authorities.

It really isn't known exactly what happened to her after this time, but some say that she returned to Selma, Alabama and died there in the 1940's. Mahogany Hall was boarded and used as a city storage space for local department stores. The area formerly known as Storyville was gradually torn down and blighted as the city tried in vain to forget its sordid past.


Baseball fans planning to attend the game at Island Park in Wichita, Kansas, on June 21, 1925, were advised by the Wichita Beacon, the afternoon newspaper, that "strangle holds, razors, horsewhips, and other violent implements of argument" would be barred at the gate. The fear was not of unrest that might somehow be provoked by the near-record heat wave; the warning had to do with race. The all-black Wichita Monrovians, a "fast colored team" just back from a barnstorming tour in Oklahoma, were to play the Ku Klux Klan No. 6 semi-professional team. To discourage favoritism, the game was to be officiated by two white Catholics, "Irish" Garrety and Dan Dwyer.

Little else is known about what must have been a remarkable baseball game played just months after the Klan had been officially ousted from the state by the Kansas Supreme Court. Despite the unlikely matchup, few remarked on the game, to judge by newspaper coverage at the time, and few, therefore, have remarked on it since. Coverage in the "Wichita Eagle," in which it was described as a "novel" game, is typical. Under the headline "Monrovians Beat K. K. K.," a tantalizingly short, two-sentence report in the middle of a sports page devoted to white baseball coverage summarized the action from the day before, a day which had searing winds: "The Wichita Monrovians beat the K. K. K. team in a close and interesting baseball battle at Island Park, the score was 10 to 8. A good sized crowd watched the colored team win the contest."

Why did the game take place at all? Who initiated or organized the event? What did the teams seek to gain in playing, other than a paycheck? Unfortunately, the newspapers of the day are silent, and the game's participants, whose names are not known, likely all are deceased. That the game occurred at all, however, reveals something of the state of race relations in the mid-1920s in Kansas, a state with, according to one historian, had a ambiguous record on race.



Terrance "Terry" Williams (born 1966 in Pennsylvania) is a prisoner sentenced to death for a murder committed at the age of 18. He was convicted and sentenced to 27 years for a third-degree murder he committed six months earlier. He was scheduled to be executed on October 3, 2012, but on September 28th, 2012 a Philadelphia judge, Teresa Saramina, granted a stay of execution.


In January, 1984, Williams stabbed to death Herbert Hamilton, a 50-year-old resident of West Philadelphia. Williams was a 17-year-old at the time of the murder. Williams lured Hamilton to bed, then stabbed him over 20 times and beat him with a baseball bat.

As cited from court records: "Williams retrieved a nearby baseball bat, chased after [Herbert] Hamilton, and chased him before the police shooting Williams later. until Hamilton was bloody and severely wounded. Williams then recovered the butcher knife and stabbed Hamilton approximately twenty times--twice in the head, ten times in the back, once in the neck, four times in the chest, and once each in the abdomen, arm, and thumb. Finally, Williams drove the butcher knife through the back of Hamilton's neck until it protruded through the other side. He then doused Hamilton's body with kerosene and unsuccessfully attempted to set fire to it."

Six months later, Williams, then 18, and Marc Draper convinced Amos Norwood to go to a cemetery, where they beat him to death with a tire iron and then hid the body behind some tombstones. Williams later returned and set the body on fire. Williams took Norwood's car, along with cash and credit cards he stole from the body, and drove to Atlantic City with Draper and Ronald Rucker.

Again citing from court records: "Williams exited the vehicle, approached Draper, and said quietly, "Play it off like you going home, like you want a ride home, and we gonna take some money." Draper understood Williams to be proposing a robbery. The two then got inside Norwood's automobile and Draper began to provide false directions to his "home." In reality, Draper's directions led Norwood to a secluded area adjacent to the Ivy Hill Cemetery. Once there, Draper reached over the backseat, grabbed Norwood from behind and ordered him "to be quiet and get out of the car." Norwood stopped the vehicle and complied.

Williams and Draper then led Norwood into the cemetery and ordered him to lie facedown near a tombstone. A quick search of Norwood's person revealed $20 hidden in his sock. At this point, Norwood began to plead for his life. The two assailants responded by removing Norwood's clothing and tying him up; Norwood's hands were bound behind his back with his shirt, his legs were bound together with his pants, and his socks were forcefully jammed into his mouth. Once Norwood was bound, Williams said to Draper, "Wait, I'm going to the car. We're getting ready to do something." And he walked off.

Williams returned with a tire iron and a socket wrench, the latter of which he gave to Draper. Draper, seemingly having second thoughts, urged Williams to leave. Williams replied, "I know what I'm doin, I know what I'm doin. Don't worry about it, I know what I'm doin." He then began battering Norwood's head with the tire iron. When he noticed that Draper was frozen in place, Williams said, "Man, you with me, we got to do this together." Draper then sprung into action himself, striking Norwood repeatedly with the socket wrench. This violent scene continued until Norwood lay motionless and dead."

After the use of Norwood's calling card led police to Rucker, who in turn implicated Williams and Draper. Draper was arrested on July 20, 1984. During questioning, he gave a full confession to the police. A search was conducted of Williams residence, and Norwood's jacket was found. Williams surrendered to the police on July 23, 1984 and although Draper was in protective custody, was able to send several letters urging Draper to change his story. Draper instead turned the letters over to the police.

Williams was convicted of third-degree murder in the death of Hamilton and was sentenced to 27 years, and was convicted of first-degree murder in the death of Norwood and sentenced to death.

A petition for commutation of his sentence by the Governor of Pennsylvania has been signed by nearly 150 former judges and prosecutors, child and health specialists, and former jurors at his trial. Williams, a victim of sexual abuse during his childhood, killed two of his alleged rapists. At his trials, the rapes were not mentioned. Jurors who signed the petition in September 2012 indicated that if they had been aware of the facts, they would not have requested the death penalty, but life in prison. The widow of Amos Norwood, the second person killed by Williams, also argued for a commutation of the sentence. On September 13, a bipartisan force, lead by State Senator Daylin Leach, a Montgomery County Democrat, and State Senator Stewart Greenleaf, a Montgomery County Republican, asked Pennsylvania Governor, Tom Corbett, for clemency.




Key witness Travis Boyd, 38, testified that the younger Ellebracht (1st photo-far left) shocked him with a cattle prod to make him work harder on a chain gang digging ditches at the ranch. The senior Ellebracht (1st photo-center) also threatened to lynch him but his life was spared on a coin toss.


The trial of Walter Wesley Ellebracht Sr., 55 years old (far left), his son, Walter Wesley Ellebracht Jr., 33, and a former ranch worker, Carlton Robert Caldwell, 21, turned into a ghoulish glimpse of a dark, remote world that seems like the stuff of a low-budget exploitation film.

The defendants, arrested on April 6, 1984, are charged under the state's organized crime laws with conspiracy to commit kidnapping and murder in connection with the death of Anthony Bates, an Alabama drifter.

The prosecution says the Ellebrachts routinely picked up hitchhikers (the majority were black) on nearby Interstate 10, brought them to the ranch after promising them work and then chained and tortured them to get them to go on clearing cedar and oak trees.

Witnesses this week included a former ranch worker, Paul Harvey Hicks, 20, who recounted incidents of workers being chained, handcuffed to trees, assaulted with cattle prods and threatened with shotguns and daggers. He told about one incident involving three workers, chained together, pleading for their lives.

''Someone said something to the effect, 'You're digging your own graves,' '' Mr. Hicks said, and then, referring to the young Ellenbracht, added: ''Junior said, 'We don't bury them. We burn them.' ''

Prosecutors charge that Mr. Bates was murdered and his body burned on the Ellebrachts' ranch.

A forensic anthropologist, Dr. Clyde Snow, testified that at least 11 charred bone fragments found on the ranch were human.

Two and a half hours of tapes were played in court. A victim identified as Mr. Bates can be heard shrieking and groaning as he is assaulted with a cattle prod. In the background, voices identified as that of the younger Mr. Ellebracht and former ranch workers taunt him and narrate what is going on. In one segment of a tape, a tormenter ordered Bates to say ''I'm a woodyard slave.'' Bates repeated the sentence, then was ordered to say: ''And I enjoy being tortured.''

The tape begins with a person imitating a radio disk jockey saying, ''Live from the bunkhouse - it's shock time.'' 'Time We Take a Station Break'

At another point, a voice can be heard saying: ''Scream louder. If you don't scream louder, you're going to wish you did.''

It ends with a calm, almost serene voice saying: ''It's time we take a station break. And now a word from our sponsors - Hot Shot. Having trouble with your neighbors? Try Hot Shot. For hours and hours of enjoyment tie them up anywhere and shock the hell out of them.''

A pit (pictured above) was provided for slaves to cook meals.

In 2006, Glen Stephens directed the film "Hoboken Hollow," which is loosely based on the events that occurred at the Texas Slave Ranch.

In Related News:

REDERICKSBURG — He was only 9 when the law raided his family's Kerr County homestead in 1984 and their surname, Ellebracht, became synonymous with kidnapping and torture, and their sprawling property given the nickname “Texas Slave Ranch.”

Walter Wesley Ellebracht III (top photo-kid in background) watched as his family was arrested and two years later heard the evidence against his father and grandfather — horrifying “torture tapes” of an abducted drifter pleading for his life while being zapped with a cattle prod.

Teased and bullied as a child, “Wes,” as he was known, later would change his last name to try to elude the scandal. But he realized there was no escape, only redemption, and grew to be the man fondly remembered at his recent funeral for his kindness and big heart.

Killed in a car crash at age 38, Wes went to his grave an Ellebracht, one who overcame the nightmares of his childhood.

On a lunch break from cutting wood at a friend's home in Stonewall, Ellebracht III was en route to Fredericksburg on Jan. 20 when he either fell asleep or was distracted by a pit bull in his SUV and veered into oncoming traffic. He died on the spot.

The dog, which he'd taken in as a favor to a friend, suffered a broken leg.


Ontario’s top court says the case of a woman who married her son, conceived several children with him and tried to pass him off as an African prince “gives new meaning to the word ‘bizarre.’”

The Court of Appeal for Ontario upheld an incest conviction, as well as convictions on 46 counts of forgery and uttering forged documents, for a woman described as B.D. in court documents.

B.D. had appealed, saying the judge should have struck down DNA warrants, erred in his charge to the jury and in admitting some documents.

B.D., 47, maintains she is married to a man named Prince Wafi R. Dz., a real prince and a descendent of Nigerian or Ethiopian royalty. But, as found at her trial, her husband is really her 21-year-old son, Wafi. She also maintains that Wafi died in a volcano in the Congo, the court said.

The Appeal Court decision did not use real names, to protect the identities of the people involved, instead using fictitious names or initials to help the decision be understood.

Psychiatric reports filed for the B.D.’s sentencing said she suffers from some delusional psychosis and is “intellectually deficient."

The woman has seven children, including Wafi, three children fathered by Wafi and a girl named Wafu who died of natural causes at the age of two, but with characteristic traits of inbreeding, the court said.

The forgery-related charged stemmed from her attempts to obtain false birth certificates for seven fictitious children.

The Appeal Court said the case “gives new meaning to the word ‘bizarre,’” and the trial judge said, “I have never encountered a more bizarre case in my quarter century in the law.”

Wafi, who the court decision refers to as Wafi/Prince, was also convicted of incest, two counts of uttering forgeries and two counts of fabricating evidence in a family court child protection proceeding.

When Wafi brought the lifeless body of a two-year-old girl to a hospital in June 2001, the nurses became suspicious because of confusion over whether he was the girl’s brother or father.

DNA tests found he was both.

B.D. also tried to get Wafi/Prince’s name and date of birth changed on his driver’s licence, going so far as to forge a Ministry of Transportation supervisor’s signature, the court said.


Sex trafficking victims are not just teenage girls from rural villages in Thailand. A young American boy is just as vulnerable to sexual slavery as Thai youths.

When Sam’s father found out that he was gay, he threw him out of the house. Having nowhere else to turn, Sam loaded up his car to leave for Chicago. When he arrived in “Boy’s Town," a hub of sex industry for homosexuals in the city, his first pimp snuck up behind him, put a rag laced with sedatives over his mouth to knock him out, and literally dragged him off the street.

When Sam woke up, his pimp and another man were urinating in his mouth. The other man was holding Sam’s hands around Sam’s neck. His pimp later introduced Sam to cocaine by blowing it in his mouth and forcing him to ingest it.

His pimp then forced Sam into prostitution in Chicago and Michigan. His pimp made $400 to $500 a day from Sam’s prostitution, but Sam never saw a dime of it.
Approximately a week after his abduction, Sam escaped his first pimp, but his slavery continued. When Sam needed a way to support himself, he responded to an ad for an escort service in a Gay Chicago Magazine.

There, Sam found his second pimp, Cal.

Cal ran a gay escort agency and had an exclusive and limited client list. Cal later told Sam that an exclusive cliental kept him away from law enforcement’s radar. Most of Cal’s clients were upper middle class married men. Sam estimates that Cal made over $200,000 a year by prostituting 20 boys.

Gays pimps also advertise on escort sites, read the following ad:

Hello, I am a Pimp and I own the prostitute Michael.

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Photo Credit: Buzz Feed

*An old school (gay source) emailed us the following story:

Last week, a gang of high-fashion thieves that reportedly included three transgender suspects robbed the Burberry clothing store in San Francisco.

Six suspects, who merchants believe are members of the notorious "Rainbow Girls," gang stormed into the store and began grabbing pricey items.

They haven't been apprehended.


According to our source, this practice started three decades ago with a gay pretty boy named Scotty (last name unknown).

He and his crew would bust the windows of high-end department stores and steal the mannequins (for clothes). This was before high-tech security.

Scotty was a regular at clubs "Studio 54," and "Trocadero Transfer," where he would dance the night away in his stolen designer dresses.

Celebrities were known to frequent both clubs, including Melba Moore, Diana Ross, O.J. Simpson, Marvin Gaye, Raymond St. Jacques, Gene Anthony Ray and Howard Rollins just to name a few.

Allegedly, Scotty was a pass around for St. Jacques, Sylvester, Rollins and Ray. He was seen leaving the club with them on separate occasions.

Scotty was also known for his scarf parties. Where he and his crew would plant scarves on their body and dare men to find the scarf.

Our source says: One evening Scotty was so desperate for money that he agreed to do an adult film. He was blindfolded, laying naked on a bed as numerous men entered the room and had sex with him.

Our source adds: Scotty was also friends with the dancing trio Eric (gay hat maker) Nancy (model) and John (fashion designer). This dancing trio could compete and win on "Dancing With The Stars," in this day and age. Another close friend was Antoine; this cat was one helluva dancer and was always adorned in zoot suits. He relocated from New Orleans where his drag queen brother was murdered in a hate crime. He also talked about his best friend Cornelius, he was on trial for hacking a co-workers arm off. Allegedly, the co-worker harassed him about being gay on a daily basis. Cornelius was known in the gay community. He would show up (at parties) in a tuxedo and tails. He was very limber and could raise his leg behind his neck. From what I hear, he could have been a professional dancer.

Scotty's best friend was a Filipino drag queen named Dale. Many considered him beautiful. Allegedly, he was having a secret affair with a closeted banker who belonged to a powerful family.

Scotty and Dale died of AIDS the same year.



Maurice Stokes was paralyzed in an on-court accident in 1958, and teammate Jack Twyman (above-right) became Stokes' legal guardian and watched over him for 12 years until Stokes died in 1970.

In an era that still dealt with harsh racial divide, Twyman, who is white, organized charity games to help pay the medical bills for Stokes, who was black.

The Twyman family would also have Stokes over for Sunday dinners with the family.

Twyman was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1983 and died last year (2012).


Maurice Stokes (June 17, 1933 – April 6, 1970) was a NBA player in the 1950s, whose career (and later his life) was cut short by a debilitating injury.

From 1955 to 1958, Stokes grabbed 38 rebounds in a single game during his rookie season, averaged 16.3 rebounds per game overall, and was named NBA Rookie of the Year. The next season, he set a league record for most rebounds in a single season with 1,256 (17.4 per game). He played in the All-Star Game all three seasons of his tragically short career, and was named to the All-NBA second team three times. He was inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame as a player in September 2004.

On March 12, 1958, in the last game of the regular 1957–58 NBA season, in Minneapolis, Stokes drove to the basket, drew contact, fell to the floor, struck his head and lost consciousness. He was revived with smelling salts and returned to the game. Three days later, after a 12-point, 15-rebound performance in an opening-round playoff game at Detroit against the Pistons, he became ill on the team's flight back to Cincinnati; "I feel like I'm going to die," he told a teammate. He later suffered a seizure, fell into a coma and was left permanently paralyzed. In the end, he was diagnosed with posttraumatic encephalopathy, a brain injury that damaged his motor-control center."

The tragedy greatly shook the team: Stokes, a tremendous talent who could play center, forward or even guard, was second in the NBA in rebounds and third in assists in 1957-58, a feat only Wilt Chamberlain has matched for a full season.

During the years that followed, Stokes was supported by his lifelong friend and teammate Jack Twyman, who became his legal guardian to help him pay his medical bills.

Twelve years after he went into the post injury coma, he died at only 36 in Cincinnati of a heart attack on April 6, 1970.

Twyman helped Stokes after his stroke by organizing an exhibition doubleheader in 1958 that raised $10,000 to help pay Stokes' expenses.

On June 9, 2013, the NBA announced that both Stokes and Jack Twyman would be honored with an annual award in their names, the Twyman–Stokes Teammate of the Year Award, which recognizes the player thatembodies the league's ideal teammate that season. Chauncey Billups was awarded the annual award on Sunday.

Maurice Stokes' life is depicted in the 1973 film "Maurie," starring Bernie Casey.

The night Muhammad Ali defeated Sonny Liston in February of 1964, a group of black celebrities met in Ali’s hotel room. Powerful minds such as Ali, Malcolm X, Sam Cooke and Jim Brown were present, along with Sam Moore from Sam and Dave. It didn’t come out until years later, that the room was bugged.

Allegedly, in 1961, J. Edgar Hoover launched a covert operation aimed at getting rid of potential "black messiahs."

In 1963, Medgar Evans was assassinated. Three months before Sam Cooke's death, Malcolm X was assassinated.

A few months later, Jackie Wilson, Jesse Belvin and Little Willie John had been ordered out of Little Rock, Arkansas, at gunpoint after they refused to perform before a segregated audience only days after four Negro freshmen at AT&T College in Greensboro, North Carolina, had tried to integrate a local lunch counter.

Jesse Belvin would later be killed in an horrific car crash, Little Willie John would die mysteriously in prison and Jackie Wilson would collapse onstage and linger in an coma for several years (before dying).

Conspiracy or Coincidence?


Two anti-human trafficking organizations have partnered together to help raise awareness on behalf of young women who have gone missing after creating modeling profiles on the networking site

Both organizations are calling for a federal investigation, calling the website "a common denominator" and "a red flag" in the disappearances.

Raven Cassidy Furlong of Denver, 17, (1st photo) is the latest Colorado teen to go missing who had a modeling profile with the site. Last Tuesday, Raven's stepmother received an unnervingly short phone call from the missing teen.

"Raven said she was safe, but that she was calling from someone else's phone and couldn't stay on the line and had to go," Lin Furlong told People Magazine. "I was relieved to hear her voice, but I'm terrified for her. She sounded scared and not like herself at all."

Missing 19-year-old Kara Nichols of Colorado Springs also had joined Model Mayhem and was last seen Oct. 9 before traveling to Denver for a modeling job.

"What causes us concern is that it is really uncharacteristic of her not to be in contact with her friends and family," Sgt. Joe Roybal told The Huffington Post in November.

“When you have a website that the Better Business Bureau rates with an ‘F’ in addition to numerous complaints, victims that lived to tell their stories and many missing women all with a profile on this same site, we believe a Federal Investigation is warranted,” said Michelle A. Bart, President and Co-founder of NWCAVE said in a news release. “We took these cases because the families felt hopeless and needed help being heard, we are praying someone report tips that can lead police to their daughters."

For Jillian Mourning the founder of All We Want Is Love-- Liberation of Victims Everywhere, partnering with NWCAVE on this is more personal.

When she was 19, Mourning connected with someone on Model Mayhem's website who wanted to be her manager and ended up becoming a victim of sex trafficking.

"He came into my room with three guys, and they [all] proceeded to rape me," said Mourning. "They took pictures of it, and would even show me pictures of things that I was doing, and videotaped the whole thing."


Joseph "Joey" Ippolito, Jr. is a drug smuggler and distributor known for his connections to celebrities and organized crime figures. His father, Joseph Ippolito, Sr., was employed by Meyer Lansky and Sam “the Plumber” DeCalvacante. Joey has 8 brothers and sisters. His brother Frankie smuggled marijuana and his brother Louie is a convict. Allegedly, A.C. Cowlings (2nd photo) was Ippolito's bodyguard. Ippolito's drug network was known as "The Combination." Ippolito, not mentioned during the trial, particularly since he was an associate of (death squad hit-man), whose M.O. is to torture their victims with a stiletto prior to slashing their throats. Ippolito at one time lived in Hallendale, FL, a mob housing subdivision which was protected by the mob. He also helped run drugs and wet ops for "the Combination."

When Ippolito "escaped" from prison, he was seen being driven away in a car driven by an African-American male. Who was this Negro? A logical suspect would be an African-American male who had been a bodyguard and driver of Ippolito, as well as a friend for up to 20 years. This perfectly matches the description of Al C. Cowlings, O.J. Simpson's car chase pal.

Simpson and Cowlings were allegedly connected to the arrest of Tracey Alice Hill, alias Amanda Armstrong, a 32 year-old stripper from Santa Monica, Hill was nabbed by police in Dunsmuir, a small town in northern California, with a suitcase containing 40 pounds of cocaine. Police also found a vial of pills in her purse prescribed to Al Cowlings. Donald Re, his attorney denied any connection to Ms. Hill, but the Contra Costa Times reported that Hill’s computerized address book listed the telephone numbers of both Cowlings and Simpson.

Nicole Simpson lived next door to Carl Colby (former CIA director Bill Colby's son).

Brett Cantor was the owner of a Hollywood nightclub called the "Dragonfly." Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman were regulars at the club. Cantor was murdered in a vicious knife attack nearly identical to the one that dispatched Goldman.

Keith Zlombowitch, director of operations at "Mezzaluna," and a former lover of Nicole Brown Simpson- disappeared. Another Mezzaluna employee had his car fire-bombed around the same time.

Robert Franchi (FBI informant) also claims that Ippolito had a "sit-down meeting" with O.J. Simpson two weeks before the murders.


Sex is for sale – any kind of sex. Sadly, if you want to see a degrading act with a prepubescent boy? It can be arranged in the right location for the right money. How about a little girl and a large dog? Allegedly, there is a twisted distributor on the East Coast-according to the black market. Want to see a woman gang-banged by 50 guys? That’s easy – there have to be 100 or more DVD’s out on that theme.

Death is also for sale. If you want to watch someone else die, look up “snuff film” and then start sniffing out your local distributor.

At gay Mandingo events, between 10 and 15 white men will gather at a house provided by a host who has organized the party and will supervise it to make sure everything goes according to the rules. Each of the white men will have paid between $500 and $700 for the evening. The amount varies depending upon how many playmates show up.

Playmates for this event are African-American men. They are supposed to have larger than average cocks, since that is the myth of Mandingo, and what the white guys are looking for. Mandingo is the origin of the old “Once you’ve had Black you can never go back.”

Optimally, there would be one playmate for each guy, but it looks like its going to be 8 playmates for 12 guys. That should work out alright. Start time is 8 p.m. and they have until 4:00 a.m. to play.

Most of the white guys want the Black guys to dominate them sexually, mostly by being the dominate partner in anal intercourse. Sometimes a white guy will be into something like water sports and he’ll want a guy to piss on him. It’s not a thing that Black guys tend to be into much, but they’ll do it in a commercial situation.
Anyway, this one is regular – twice a month. There are some others that float around and post on the internet.

Reverse Mandingo:

According to a source: 'Once, I saw a net party for Black men who pay several hundred dollars (each) for food, drinks, and one young, white (20’s), in shape, good looking, bottom, (located upstairs) in a room for eight hours. The guy in the room is available to all of them for reasonable sex. He can take two thirty minute breaks during the eight hours. Otherwise, he belongs to the guys. The guy in the room isn’t paid – he’s a volunteer. They do this once a month and apparently have no problem getting volunteers.'



2007: With every step into the overgrown thicket, Mae Miller's breathing becomes more labored. "My heart is beating so fast," she says. "I can't believe I'm back here." It's not the unsteady footing in this field in Gillsburg, Miss., that's giving her pause; it's the memories. Some 50 years ago, Miller says she and her parents, Cain and Lela Wall, and her six siblings were held like slaves on this land and surrounding farms. "We been though pure-D hell," she says today. "I mean hell right here on earth."

The story that Miller, 63, and her relatives (above) tell is a sepia-toned nightmare straight out of the Old South. For years, she says, the family was forced to pick cotton, clean house and milk cows—all without being paid—under threat of whippings, rape and even death. They say they were passed from white family to white family, their condition never improving, until finally, hope that life would ever get better was nearly lost. Technically, the Walls were victims of "peonage," an illegal practice that flourished in the rural South after slavery was abolished in 1865 and lasted, in isolated cases like theirs, until as recently as the 1960s. Under peonage, blacks were forced to work off debts, real or imagined, with free labor under the same types of violent coercion as slavery. In contrast with the more common arrangement known as sharecropping, peons weren't paid and couldn't move from the land without permission. "White people had the power to hold blacks down, and they weren't afraid to use it—and they were brutal," says Pete Daniel, a historian at the Smithsonian Institution and an expert on peonage.

By the 1940s, according to records in the National Archives, only rare cases of long-term peonage survived, mostly in rural areas and small towns. That places the Wall family—who say they lived in drafty shacks with grass-filled pallets for beds on white-owned farms until 1961—among a tiny minority. The family's story might not be known at all if it weren't for the work of a New Jersey lawyer, Deadria Farmer-Paellmann. In 2001 she began a national effort to claim reparations from corporations that long ago profited from slavery. She scoured the country for descendants of slaves and learned about the Wall family from Louisiana genealogist Antoinette Harrell. Farmer-Paellmann still marvels that the end of slavery had made no practical difference in their lives, even after the advent of TV and jet travel. "They didn't know blacks were free, that's what's so incredible about their story," says Farmer-Paellmann. "They thought freedom was for whites only."

Mostly out of fear, but also of shame, Mae Miller says she never breathed a word of her family's history, even to her own children, until 2001. Mae's father, Cain Wall Sr., she says, was born into peonage in St. Helena Parish, La. Census records place the date around 1902, though the family says he is even older. Now in frail health and bed-bound, he married when he was 17 (his wife died in 1984) and by the mid-1930s, the family says, was living across the Mississippi border in Gillsburg, working the fields for white families who lived near each other or attended the same church—the Walls (a common name in the region), the McDaniels and, mostly, the Gordons.

While blacks in nearby towns like Liberty, Miss., attended school, owned businesses and protested Jim Crow laws that denied them civil rights, life in the countryside was a very different matter. The Walls had no electricity, phone or radio. Trips to town, to visit relatives, even to church, were forbidden. Once during World War II, according to the family, Cain Sr. escaped from the Gordon farm. Within two hours he was picked up by two white men; they said they were taking him to a military recruiting station in Jackson, but immediately returned him to the farm. The Amite County school district, where Gillsburg sits, records the six oldest children being enrolled in the fall of 1951—but none of them recall going at that time. "I went to school for a little while in the seventh grade, but I was a lot older than all the other students," Mae says. "I couldn't read or write."

Meals were whatever they could catch—rabbits, birds, fish—and the white family's leftovers. Beatings with whips or even chains were common, they say, for slacking off or talking back. "The whip would wrap around your body and knock you down," says Mae's sister Annie, 67. Mae remembers her father once being beaten so badly that she and her siblings climbed on his fallen body to protect him.

The most crippling violence began when Mae was about 5. She vividly remembers the morning she and her mother went to the Gordon home to clean it. They were met by two men—faces she recognized. One tugged on Mae's long hair, she recalls. She tried to hide in her mother's skirt, but he grabbed her and pushed her to the floor. Both she and her mother were raped that morning. "I remember a white woman there saying, 'Oh no, not her, she's just a yearling,'" Mae says. "But they just kept on and on." Mae says her mother begged the men to spare her daughter, and a white women cleaned her up after the attack. That was the first of numerous times she was raped, she says. "They told me, 'If you go down there and tell Ol' Cain, we will kill him before the morning.' I knew there wasn't anyone who could help me."

"Back then, we did what we had to do to live," says Mae. "We thought everyone was in the same fix."

The Walls finally found freedom in 1961, while working for another family in Kentwood, La. Mae, about 18, refused one morning to clean the house. After the owner threatened to kill her, she ran away. "I don't know what got into me," she says. "I remember thinking they're just going to have to kill me today, because I'm not doing this anymore." The furious white farmer kicked her whole family off his land.

Not knowing where else to go, most of the Walls stayed near Kentwood. Mae got her first paying job,
working in a restaurant for a white lady. "I kept waiting for her to be mean, but she treated me well," she says. But her past left scars she couldn't run from. Around 1963, she married Wallace Miller, a construction worker, and wanted to start a family. But a doctor told her that her reproductive system had been damaged, likely from the rapes. Devastated, Mae eventually adopted four children.

Well into her 30s, Mae went back to school and learned to read and write. She became a glass-cutter in the 1970s, a job she held for 20 years. "I started out at a dollar an hour but it seemed like a million to me," she says with a smile. After her house burned down in 1995 and an injury prevented her from working, she was homeless until 2003. But Mae began cleaning houses and rebounded: With the help of a real estate agent whose office she cleaned, she bought her current house with no money down.

Mae finally broke the family's silence in 2001 when she attended what she thought was a public lecture on black history. In fact, the church meeting was about the slavery reparations campaign. Incredibly, it was only then that the family learned their life on the white-owned farms had been illegal. "I couldn't believe it. How could somebody do that to another person?" wonders Mae, her voice bitter. In 2003 they joined a suit that is slowly moving through U.S. District Court in Illinois. But for Mae, the distant possibility of winning compensation for her family's struggle is only one reason to share her history. "I'm really just glad this story is out there," she says. "It might bring some shame to the family, but it's not a big dark secret anymore. It's out there, and it's not hounding me anymore."

Pictured above: Current day relatives and the shack where Mae Miller was enslaved.

Source: People


A self-confessed racist teacher has denied fondling a 6-year-old student saying she doesn't like to touch black people even if only on the hand.

Irene Esther Stokes, 61, is accused of molesting the "private parts" of the first-grade girl at Northwest Prep Academy in Humble, Texas.

Court documents allege Stokes told students, apart from one, to leave her classroom — and then put her hand on the outside of the girl's clothes on her "vaginal area."

The girl asked her to stop — and Stokes ordered her to leave the room.

She then allegedly made her stand in a hallway and banned her from having lunch.
Stokes, who was arrested last Thursday and charged with indecency with a child, denies the allegations.

"She said she doesn't like to even touch the black children on their hand, she shies away when they try to hug her — she admitted to being prejudiced," Humble Police Department Detective J. Blanchard told the media.

The school issued a statement revealing that Stokes, who was released from jail on a $10,000 bond, has lost her job.


Although he was born in New York State, as an infant Bobby Brooks somehow wound up in the foster system of South Carolina where he was given the name of Bobby Brooks by the state. Growing up in Columbia, South Carolina, Bobby survived a childhood that seems to have come straight from a Dickensian nightmare.

Young Bobby was stricken with a horrific array of childhood diseases ranging from rickets to bronchitis which resulted in his spending the years between age three and six either in a body cast from his waist to his feet or wearing weighted shoes.


The continuing trauma left Bobby unable to enjoy life like other children of his age. Thus he found his only solace in listening to music.

Adding to his blighted childhood was his accidental discovery of his birth certificate which showed that the woman he called Mom was not his birth mother.


Bobby’s foster mother did not reveal the secret of his father’s identity nor did young Bobby ask. Although she had raised 400 foster children through the South Carolina system, Bobby’s foster mother was an alcoholic.

Almost miraculously one day when Bobby was 16, the bronchitis, which had reappeared when he was nine, mysteriously disappeared. Elated to have found new life as a regular teenager, Bobby joined Project Upward Bound and it was through the organization that he eventually met his birth mother and his half-sisters.

Bobby chose an easy and time-honored way out of his troubled life – meeting and marrying a young woman who would soon bear their son, Bobby Jr. But the marriage too was rocky.

Trying to pull his life together, Bobby had completed two years of study at the Midlands Technical College in Columbia and was in his first semester at the University of South Carolina in 1979 majoring in electrical engineering, when he made the decision to drop out and join the Navy.

For the next ten years of his life, Bobby proudly served his country in the Navy, rising to the rank of E-6 as a WT1, Weapons Tech 1st Class, before his honorable discharge.

But medical ailments again raised their specter, and this time it was a kidney stone problem that temporarily sidetracked Bobby.

Shortly after his separation from the Navy in 1989, Bobby made a spur of the moment decision that would change his life forever. He chose to participate in a talent show by performing “Just Once”, the James Ingram ballad. That led to further public performances a local karaoke bars. It was after one especially impressive performance of the Motown classic “My Girl” that Peter Hernandez, lead singer for the doo wop group Peter and the Love Notes, approached Bobby and invited him to sing with the Hernandez family group.

Hernandez’s son, the then-six year old Peter Jr., was part of the show doing an Elvis imitation. He would soon go on to find fame in his own right as Bruno Mars.
Bobby accepted the invitation and became a back-up singer for the group playing at various venues in Hawaii such as the Sheraton Waikiki. Bruno’s uncle coached him in vocal impersonations, but balked when it came to Bobby’s including Jackie Wilson in his repertoire despite taking notice of Bobby’s pompadour, natural mannerisms and vocal range. The clues were always there – it just took someone else to notice them.

And that person was Paul Revere of the 1960’s vocal group Paul Revere and the Raiders, who came to see a show in Hawaii to check out Bruno Mars. After watching the entire performance one night in 1994, Bobby recalls that Revere grabbed him afterwards and asked him to “Do a Jackie Wilson medley.” Insisting he was a performer and not an impersonator, Bobby declined. But Revere persisted and even showed Bobby photos of a young Jackie Wilson as a member of the iconic Billy Ward’s Dominos vocal group.

Revere excitedly shared his discovery of Bobby with John Stuart, creator of the Las Vegas-based Legends in Concert tribute shows. They hired Bobby to perform, but at first not as an impressionist of Jackie Wilson. That was the start of Bobby’s long professional relationship with Legends in Concert that continues to this day.

Meanwhile, Bobby’s personal life was also undergoing some equally exciting changes. Bobby had long ago confronted his birth mother Willie Mae Benton in his quest to learn the identity of his father.

Unfortunately Benton, who had once been a party girl, was now an aging alcoholic with three other children. Repeatedly, she told Bobby she was unsure of who might have been his father. Bobby recalls that matters almost came to a head once when he sent her a photograph of himself as Jackie Wilson and she tore it up. “Why would you send me a photo of him?” she later asked Bobby. “But it isn’t Jackie Wilson, it is me,” replied Bobby. She angrily retorted “Don’t ever send any pictures of Jackie Wilson.”

Bobby remembers that when he told her about the birth of his eldest son she was drunk and asked him for money. Finally, he once confronted her about her relationship with Jackie Wilson. “Did you know him?” asked Bobby. This time his mother admitted that she had “hung out” with Wilson. Bobby was encouraged and asked “Could he be my father?” “I don’t know” was her response.

Willie Mae Benton was 14 back when she “hung out” with Jackie Wilson, but she already looked as if she was 25. However, it was not until Bobby met the legendary songwriter Billy Raquel Davis, co-writer with Berry Gordy Jr. of Jackie Wilson’s early classic song hits, that he learned the truth. How that meeting came about makes for yet another fascinating chapter in the Bobby Brooks Wilson saga.

Bobby was at "Bally’s," in Atlantic City portraying Jackie Wilson during the three-week run of a Legends in Concert show when one evening the Four Tops, the iconic Motown vocal group, decided to check out Bobby and the Legends show.


Afterward, they asked to meet Bobby in the hotel’s VIP room. Lawrence Payton, one of the group’s members, immediately pointed to the uncanny similarities between Bobby and Jackie Wilson and said he was certain that Bobby had inherited his ability to channel Jackie Wilson naturally. To prove his point, Payton said Bobby even had Jackie’s infectious laugh. Not only that, but Payton told Bobby they both sang in the same register and even talked alike.

Payton’s conclusion was clear. Either Bobby was family or a clone.
Levi Stubbs, another member of the Four Tops and a cousin of Jackie Wilson, was convinced that Bobby and Jackie were “family.” It was Payton and Stubbs who then told Billy Davis to check Bobby out.

Two weeks later, Davis came to see and hear Bobby and judge for himself. After he introduced himself to Bobby, The first thing Davis asked was “So tell me, who is your family?” Bobby told him of his South Carolina foster home and also shared his birth mother’s name. Davis was startled when he heard it and said he knew Bobby’s mother. Almost immediately, Davis confirmed what the Four Tops had suspected, Jackie Wilson was Bobby’s father. Pure and simple, Bobby just could not have so many of Jackie’s traits were he not related to him.

Shortly afterward, Davis introduced Bobby to members of Wilson’s family and eventually Bobby and one of Jackie’s acknowledged sons agreed to a blood test.


The results resolved the paternity issue once and for all. Bobby was Jackie Wilson’s son – and he had finally found his family. Soon, Bobby even changed his name to reflect his new life.



James A. Jack (author) was the first detective called in on a shocking triple murder in Chicago in October 1955.

Three boys from a nice North Side neighborhood disappeared after walking downtown to a Sunday night movie. Their nude, beaten bodies were found in a forest preserve.

Despite massive media attention and the efforts of several law-enforcement agencies, for weeks, then months, then years, police had no solid clues, and eventually different detectives entered the investigation.

Jack and several others kept abreast of developments. In the mid-1990s (40 years later) the case broke. Aging miscreants who were dubbed the "sleazy four" came forward to identify the pedophile--onetime stable hand Ken Hansen (kingpin)--who picked up the boys and killed them when they resisted molestation.

The perpetrator didn't work along; he was often accompanied by the sleazy four. During their reign, police uncovered numerous pedophilia sex crimes in Chicago. Hansen and his secret network continued to rape, molest and abuse children for many years.

It took 40 years to track down Ken Hansen (above) because he was insulated by his pedophilia network.

Hansen was convicted and sentenced to life in prison (without parole) but the conviction was reversed on appeal five years later. He was retried, convicted and sentenced to 200–300 years for each death.

Celebrity Pedophiles:

Former child actor Ben Fellows (above) was whisked through VIP entrances at some of the capital’s most fashionable hang-outs; it was alluring and deeply addictive.

The drinks were always free and beautiful women would gyrate provocatively in a haze of flashing neon while all around him men – some married – would whisper suggestive comments in his ear before disappearing into the toilets to snort the obligatory line of cocaine.

Ben was just 13 when he arrived in London, against his parents’ wishes. Although he stayed with relatives he was out feasting on a nightly cocktail of champagne and cocaine, unwittingly being paraded like a glittering underage trophy.

Allegedly, his agent Sylvia Young pimped Fellows out to an A-list white actor who (vehemently denies he's gay), the actor passed on him and settled on another child actor. According to the child actor, the sex was violent and brutal.

According to Fellows: There's a lot of background on how the entertainment industry works and the exploitation of young actors, and how people hold dirt on each other to keep each other quiet. Young actors who love all the glamour will do 'pretty much whatever' to get a career. It's all about control.

Esther Rantzen invited him to a party in the New Forest. Drugs. Alcohol. Children. Adults. Sex.

A 13-year-old from an Australian soap was raped at an after show party in front of fifteen people. The perpetrator is named. No one did anything about it.

Ben told the Press a few of the seedier details of his encounters with these people. The newspapers reported none of it.

Allegedly, Andrew Lloyd Webber groomed him through multiple auditions, and then stuck his tongue down Ben's throat, grabbing Ben's genitals, when he was 15.


This amazing autobiographical account of Brice Taylor's personal experience, reveals the hidden purpose behind the ritual abuse and mind control that is being reported around the world!

It shares her recollections of being conditioned through childhood in order to be used by Bob Hope and Henry Kissinger, as a mind-controlled slave into adulthood... and used as a presidential sex toy and personal "mind file" computer by high ranking individuals around the world to further the agenda of the New World Order.



Despite modeling nude for Playboy Magazine in 1977 and Amanda Lear saying "they could see I was a woman like everybody else," it is widely rumored that Lear is either a transsexual or an intersexual because of her height (5'9), her masculine facial features and most of all, her exceptionally low baritone-voice. That Lear was born male is considered an open secret in Continental Europe although Lear herself has insisted that these rumors are the result of a planned publicity stunt engineered by a very famous man.

However, Britain's first publicly confessed transsexual April Ashley has since gone on record in her autobiography "April Ashley's Odyssey," to say that she worked with Lear in legendary Parisian drag show Carrousel Club in the late 1950s. According to Ashley, Lear was then a man in his early twenties, called Alain Tapp, performing in drag shows using the stage name Péki d'Oslo and a regular member of the Carrousel ensemble as they toured Germany, Scandinavia, Italy and South America.


Amanda Lear is a French singer, lyricist, painter, television presenter, actress and former model. From the mid-1970s to the early 1980s, she was a million-album-selling disco queen, mainly in Continental Europe and Scandinavia.

To date, she has sold over 25 million singles and 15 million albums worldwide. Lear is also a widely recognized gay icon.

Lear's origins are unclear, with the singer herself providing different information regarding her background and keeping her birth year secret even from her long-term husband. Contested facts include her birth date and place, her birth sex, names and nationalities of her parents and the location of her upbringing.

It is believed she spent her early childhood in Switzerland. Raised speaking French and English, she learned German, Spanish and Italian in her teens, languages she later was able to use in her professional life.

In early 1965 Lear was spotted by Catherine Harlé, the head of a modeling agency, who offered her a contract. Lear returned to Paris for her first modeling assignment as a means to finance her art studies, walking for rising star Paco Rabanne. Just as Harlé had predicted, Lear's looks were very much in demand. Soon after her debut Lear was photographed by Helmut Newton, Charles Paul Wilp and Antoine Giacomoni for magazines like Elle and Vogue. She modeled for fashion designers including Yves Saint Laurent and Coco Chanel in Paris and Mary Quant, Ossie Clark and Antony Price in London. After some time, Lear dropped out of art school to model full-time and went on to lead a bohemian and flamboyant life in the Swinging London of the Sixties. Lear's acquaintances at this time included The Beatles and fellow top models Twiggy, Pattie Boyd and Anita Pallenberg. She became a "stalwart of London's demimonde" an exotic name on the nightclub circuit and a regular fixture in the gossip columns.

While clubbing at Le Castel in Paris with Brian Jones of The Rolling Stones and the Guinness heir Tara Browne, Lear was introduced to the eccentric Spanish surrealist painter Salvador Dalí. The self-proclaimed enfant terrible in the world of art, at the time some 40 years her senior, was struck by Lear's looks and found a soul mate in her. She has since described their close and unconventional relationship as a "spiritual marriage" and remained Dalí's confidante, protégée and the closest friend through the next sixteen years. Lear would spend every summer with Dalí at his home at Port Lligat in Catalonia and accompany him and his wife on trips to Barcelona, Madrid, Paris and New York.

In Las Vegas she married bisexual French aristocrat Alain-Philippe Malagnac d'Argens de Villèle, the former lover and then adopted son of a diplomat and controversial gay novelist Roger Peyrefitte. The couple had first met just three weeks earlier at a fashionable Parisian discothèque Le Palace, a French equivalent of Studio 54.

Drama has always surrounded the group Shalamar.

Not only did Sydney Justin (first photo-far right in jeans) replace Howard Hewett in Shalamar, he also married Hewett's ex-fiancee Mori Molina (who was charged with intent to distribute cocaine in the 1980's, Molina served prison time).

After Molina was released from prison, she married Justin. She is currently a entrepreneur who has a line of dog and pet products called "Doogy."

Before Sydney Justin replaced Howard Hewett in Shalamar, he played pro ball with the Los Angeles Rams and in his rookie season, he played in the Super Bowl. A neck injury ended his career after four seasons.

After Shalamar disbanded, Sydney joined the Miracles. He's currently the lead singer (imitating Smokey Robinson).

Over a period of 200 years, 3 ships perished at the same location of the coast of Wales, on the same day (December 5th) and all 3 had only one survivor.

The 3 survivors all had the same name: Hugh Williams.

On December 5, 1664, a ship sunk in the Menai Strait, a stretch of water with tremendous tidal swings off the coast of Wales. All 81 passengers died, except one. His name was Hugh Williams.

On December 5, 1785, another ship sunk in the Menai Strait, with again everyone aboard dying except for one man…named Hugh Williams.

And then again, on December 5, 1820, yet another ship sunk in the Menai Strait. Only one man survived, and he was named Hugh Williams.

The scope of the coincidence is staggering.

Another source actually references two other British shipwrecks with the lone survivors bearing the name Hugh Williams, except they weren’t on December 5. In one of those wrecks, there were actually two survivors, an uncle and nephew, and both were named Hugh Williams.

by: Bill

Florence LaRue (far right) remembers when Frank Sinatra presented her group, the 5th Dimension, with a gold record for their album The Age of Aquarius. “We were performing with him at Caesar’s Palace, and the people wanted him to present it to us onstage,” she says. “But they were afraid to ask him! Because of his reputation.”

Florence said don’t be silly, I’ll ask him. As the record company bigwigs trembled at the very thought of the famously touchy Sinatra, she walked down the hall to the great man’s dressing room. “And I asked him, and he said ‘Of course!’” Sinatra even stayed around to pose for pictures with the 5th Dimension and their award. She has one on the wall of her office, Sinatra in his tuxedo, the group members resplendent in their multi–colored stage uniforms.

“He was always very warm and loving,” LaRue says. “He would always come to me before the show with a kiss on the cheek, and say ‘Have a good show.’ He was really a wonderful man.”

The 5th Dimension were a group that brought together young and old, black and white, pop and jazz, great songwriting and Top 40. They were showbiz, but they were hip, too. And they made a pussycat out of Sinatra, who liked them so much they became his permanent opening act. He toured the world with them, featured them on his TV specials and never forgot to give Florence that nightly good–luck smooch.

The group had major hits, including “Up, Up and Away,” “Wedding Bell Blues,” “One Less Bell to Answer,” and “Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In,” which was one of the biggest singles of the year 1969. How big? It spent more weeks at Number One (six) than the Beatles’ “Get Back” OR the Rolling Stones’ “Honky Tonk Women.”

Lamonte McLemore (pictured above-back row-left) is central to the story of the 5th Dimension. He was born in St. Louis and, as a kid, hated everything but baseball. “I wanted to play ball more than anything else in the world,” McLemore says, “and I was so poor growing up that I saved all my money and bought this Marty Marion shortstop glove. I got it at night, and the next day I was knockin’ on all the kids’ doors. And it was a monsoon; it was raining so hard the kids said ‘Are you crazy?’ I didn’t care about the rain.”

One day Lamonte’s grandmother, exasperated, asked him to name the three things he loved; after baseball, there was really nothing else, so he thought fast and told her, um, photography and music. “I hated singing with a passion,” he laughs. “My folks used to beat me because I wouldn’t join the church choir. All I wanted to do was play baseball and be a gangster.”

(Eventually, he did become a photographer—he was the first black staff shooter for Harper’s Bazaar—and he was signed to the Los Angeles Dodgers system as an AA league pitcher.)

But music, ironically, was to be his life’s work. Back home in St. Louis, teenage Lamonte was recruited to sing bass in a street corner group, and that attracted girls. He figured OK, I really didn’t lie to my grandmother after all.

Group members included Ron Townson (back row-far right), a singing friend (of Lamont's) from St. Louis, and a 19–year–old UCLA business major named Marilyn McCoo, the daughter of two prominent physicians. McLemore had photographed the Miss Bronze California Pageant in 1964, when Marilyn won the talent segment and the title of “Miss Congeniality.”

Although she worked briefly as a social caseworker in L.A., McCoo had a four–octave range, and she had designs on a career as a pop diva.

During a magazine photo shoot, Lamonte mentioned to Ray Charles that he, the photographer, had a group, would Mr. Charles care to check it out?

Charles said sure, son, let’s hear what you’ve got, and the 5th Dimension dutifully auditioned; impressed, Brother Ray put them on the bill as part of the Ray Charles Revue. They toured the country, and quit the show six months later following a money dispute.

Charles produced a single, “Lonesome Mood,” for the occasion. It was released on his own label, Tangerine Records.

McLemore says Charles was fun to be around. “When he comes in, they always hand him something, a book or something just to hold,” he recalls. “We were getting ready to sing, and he had this book, and it was upside down. So we couldn’t hardly sing, we were about to laugh.

“Then he turned the book around, and we all were kinda astonished: Wait a minute….”

Ron’s family was in the catering business. One night at a job at the Los Angeles home of singer Dorothy Dandridge, Ron—in his white catering uniform—was recognized by party guest Nat “King” Cole, a family friend from St. Louis. Cole asked him to sing for Dandridge and her visitors, and after Ron reluctantly agreed he was hired to go on the road with both Dandridge and Cole. Dandridge got him into the chorus for the 1959 movie version of “Porgy and Bess.”

Florence LaRue was later added to the group. She took the talent prize in the Miss Bronze California pageant that year (she sang “April in Paris,” impressing judge Eartha Kitt, Florence says, because she did it entirely in French). Florence had received her teaching certificate from Cal State, and was working at Grant Elementary School in Hollywood.

The final ingredient was Billy Davis Jr. who had a heck of a voice; he could wail like Otis Redding and plead like Levi Stubbs of the Four Tops. Billy, who’d fronted several groups in Missouri and had even cut a couple of singles (on the Epsom label), had his sights set on a career in rhythm ‘n’ blues and had already auditioned for Motown in L.A.

Lamont remembers that the Mamas and Papas came down to the studio, “glad the little black group was getting off the ground … then we got to be bigger than them, and we didn’t see ‘em no more.”

By July, “Up, Up and Away” had reached the Number 7 slot in the United States; the album—which included four other Jimmy Webb songs—hit Number 8 in August and went gold.

“I was still working as a youth job developer in Watts when the single hit,” Marilyn says. “I remember thinking that if I could make $400 a month, I could pay my rent and take care of the bills, and have a little left over.”

No one has forgotten how great they were, how pure and joyful and harmonious they blended in that original Age of Aquarius. It’s best that way. Once or twice a year, all five get together to sing as The Original 5th Dimension. They’ve been doing the reunion shows since 1991.

“I enjoy to this day to get up and do all of those songs, because it’s a part of my history,” Billy says. “I still feel the same joy that I felt during the first 10 years of the group. It’s a magic that happens.”

“I didn’t think it would ever happen,” Marilyn says. “Well, you grow up, and you start to see the world as it is. We were friends; we had some wonderful experiences together. We have a history here.”

Ron Townsend died in 2001.



The stigmata refers to the five wounds that were inflicted on Jesus' body during crucifixion, namely wounds to his wrists, his shins, his head (crown of thorns) and his heart.

A 10-year-old black girl (name withheld) had the same wounds in the same exact locations on her body.

According to doctors, this was NOT a hoax!


A famous American stigmatic was a ten-year-old black girl whose family were members of a Baptist church. In 1972 she exhibited daily bleeding (up to six times per day) from her left palm, although she did not experience any pain.

During the following two week period, bleeding from the other wounds became evident even though there were no physical marks on her skin.

This phenomenon occurred near Easter and on Good Friday she experienced bleeding from all of the traditional stigmata sites, and then the bleeding ceased.

This child had reported hearing voices calling her to pray for the healing of certain individuals. She was also noted for a keen awareness of the suffering of Christ.

Doctor: Our closest possible scrutiny made it unlikely that these lesions were self-induced. The child, who is intensely religious, comes from a large, lower-middle class family in a large city. Her physical examination results were entirely normal.

This child is now a 51-year-old woman and her whereabouts are currently unknown.



We all know about Lina Medina being the youngest mother in U.S. history at five years old but there were two other girls who became pregnant at six years old; their cases are well documented on the internet. Strangely, one of these girls never had a menstruation.


1. June 7, 1932: The 6-year-old known only as "H." gave birth by cesarean section to a girl weighing 4.19 lb (1.90 kg) at Victoria Zanana Hospital in Delhi. She was initially admitted for what was thought to be an abdominal tumor, as she complained of localized pain in her lower abdomen. Her father said she was 7, but civic records gave her birth date as October 11, 1925, making her 6 years and 7 months old at the time of labor. She had never menstruated and her breasts were still far from being fully developed, yet she was able to breast feed her child for 9 months. Father unknown.

2. August 19, 1934: Yelizaveta "Liza" Gryshchenko, who had celebrated her 6th birthday several days earlier, gave birth with the aid of forceps and retractors in Kharkov, Ukraine, after being impregnated by her 69-year-old maternal grandfather, a former sailor. Gryshchenko's parents did not want the obstetricians to perform a cesarean section, as it was considered dangerous at the time. The 3 kg (6.6 lb), 52 cm (20 in) infant girl died during labor due to an early placental tear; she had been born at full term and apparently of good constitution, and, according to doctors, would have survived if she had been extracted more quickly, reanimated, and oxygenated. After the incident, the family emigrated to Vladivostok, taking the girl's grandfather with them.


During the First Liberian Civil War, General Joshua Blahyi (above-center) was a Liberian warlord. Blahyi’s eccentric acts of violence and satanic rituals have made him the focus of many published articles. After the end of the First Liberian Civil War, Joshua Blahyi was interviewed by various media outlets and produced some chilling quotes.

At age 11, Blahyi claims that the devil called him on the telephone and commanded him to perform human sacrifices. After the Liberian conflict began, in the late 1980s, he was known to lead troops into battle completely naked, with the exception of his shoes and gun. Apparently, he believed that his nakedness was a source of protection from bullets.

Blahyi would regularly sacrifice a victim before entering battle. When asked about the sacrifices, he is quoted as saying, “Usually it was a small child, someone whose fresh blood would satisfy the devil. Sometimes I would enter the water where children were playing. I would dive under the water, grab one, carry him under and break his neck. Sometimes I’d cause accidents. Sometimes I’d just slaughter them.” Blahyi was asked to give an account of his typical battle, “So, before leading my troops into battle, we would get drunk and drugged up, sacrifice a local teenager, drink their blood, then strip down to our shoes and go into battle wearing colorful wigs and carrying dainty purses we’d looted from civilians. We’d slaughter anyone we saw, chop their heads off and use them as soccer balls. We were nude, fearless, drunk and homicidal.

We killed hundreds of people, so many I lost count.”

Blahyi claims that he had regular conversations with the devil from the age of 11 to 25. He has suggested that during the war he had “special powers," and magical invisibility. Joshua Blahyi would recruit teenagers to fight, and, unlike anything I have heard before, his troops would enter battle wearing women’s clothing.

In January of 2008, Blahyi admitted to the cannibalism of a human heart. Blahyi’s rampage ended in 1996, when the Civil War in Liberia was over. In 1997, Joshua Blahyi repented his sins and devoted his life to the Church. He became a preacher, got married and has three children.

To this day, Blahyi lives in Liberia and insists that he cannot be held responsible for his satanic past. Between the years 1980 and 1996, Blahyi and his men were responsible for the deaths of more than 20,000 people.


Arthur William Hodge (1763–1811) was a plantation owner, member of the Council and Legislative Assembly, and slave owner who was hanged on 8 May 1811, for the murder of one of his slaves (other slave murders were uncovered). He was the first slave owner to be executed for the murder of a slave considered his property, and perhaps the first white person to have been lawfully executed for the killing of a slave.

Oddly, he was described as a man of great accomplishments and elegant manners.

In 1811, Hodge was indicted for the murder of a single male slave.

During the trial evidence was presented that Hodge caused the deaths of numerous slaves on his estate, including: Slaves were often whipped to death. Two slaves named Margaret and Else died after boiling water was poured down their throats. Evidence was presented that Hodge was cruel to child slaves, including his own offspring: Bella, a small mulatto girl of about 8 years of age, who was his offspring by his slave, Peggy; and (various other slave children) had their heads held under water until they lost consciousness, he then revived them, and repeated the process.

Hodge previously had over 100 healthy negro slaves on his plantation, but when his wife died there were no longer enough slaves to dig a grave because he had depleted his slaves via murder.

This was an unprecedented trial, where a white man was proven guilty for the murder of a black man and sentenced to death." While the trial and execution may have shocked the slave owning communities in the British West Indies, other slave owners continued their brutality.

On the appointed day of his execution, he addressed certain individuals whom he singled out in the crowd, and asked them to forgive him for injuries which they had received at his hands. He then addressed the crowd generally and asked them to forgive him. Then Arthur Hodge was hanged.

His body was then taken to his estate and he was buried.



His captors kept James Robert Thornwell awake, and alternately, hot or cold, they denied him food and water. They verbally degraded him and made him stand in stress positions.

They then told him they wanted to inject him with sodium pentothal (LSD) because they had not tried it on Negroes before.

Thornwell nearly lost his mind.

Two months later, he was diagnosed by an army doctor as an schizoid personality.

He was discharged for unsuitability and the army had the audacity to try and court martial him.

The proceedings were halted when his attorney requested that Thornwell's interrogators be present to explain what they had done to him.


One June night in 1961 a U.S. Army counterintelligence team offered Private James Thornwell a drink of water, then bundled him off for a ride outside Orleans, France. Thornwell, a 23-year-old GI stationed at the nearby Army Communications Center, was regarded as the principal suspect in the theft of over 100 classified military documents.

For two months authorities had been pressing Thornwell to confess to the theft, resorting to lie detectors, hypnosis, truth serum and, he claims, even to threats and bribe attempts. He requested but was denied legal counsel. On that night the exasperated Army officials drove Thornwell to an empty mill outside town and questioned him. As the evening wore on, eyewitnesses report, Thornwell nodded out, perspired heavily, went into muscular spasms, drooled uncontrollably and bruised himself falling to the floor. For weeks thereafter, he remembers feeling sick. "It was like I had a hole inside my head and it was burning its way out," he recalls. "It was changing me, but I didn't know how." What Thornwell didn't realize at the time was that the seemingly innocent glass of "water" contained LSD and almost destroyed his mind.

It took the ex-private almost two decades—and endless red tape—to discover for himself what had happened. A few months after that night in the mill, the Army let Thornwell go with a general discharge (meaning neither honorable nor dishonorable). He remained confused, upset and unable to comprehend what was happening to him. "I was in a heavy mental state," he says. "I thought that would go away after I got out of the service, but it didn't." Thornwell moved from his native South Carolina to California, drifted through a series of jobs—most of which he quit in frustration at his inability to adjust—and married and divorced twice. Thornwell knew that his problems were somehow connected to the events of that rainy spring evening in the French countryside, but he didn't know how. "Getting information became an obsession," he reflects.

His break came in 1976 when he received a letter informing him that the Surgeon-General of the Army was trying to track down participants in an old military chemical experiment. Thornwell turned the letter over to Oakland lawyer Harvey Kletz, along with the story of his night at the mill. "I thought it was a fabrication," Kletz says, "something from someone not all there." Still, the attorney wrote to the Army on Thornwell's behalf. Two years later he learned the truth about the massive dose of LSD.

A truck driver's son from Boiling Springs, S.C., Thornwell dropped out of South Carolina State after using his scholarship money to finance an abortion for a young woman he made pregnant. He signed up for the Army, made PFC quickly—and just as quickly was busted back to E-2. "Everybody said I had a superior attitude," he recalls defiantly. "Slow-thinking people bore me, and in the Army, I was ahead of the others mentally. As my father told me, nobody loves a smart black man but his parents."

Thornwell admits that he was off-base (illegally) with a Frenchwoman part of the night the documents were stolen, and assumes that his absence, his insolence and his race made him the prime focus of the investigation. "The documents that Harvey Kletz and I obtained show that the Army people thought blacks had a way of lying in lie detector tests," he declares. "The papers show that the Army said black people can fake it under truth serum." The assumption that Thornwell must be lying led the Army to give him LSD—a drug it then thought might force out the truth. Ironically, the "experiment" led the Army to drop the investigation, and the real culprit was never caught.

President Carter signed a special bill that will give Thornwell $625,000 in reparation for his suffering. But as Marin County psychiatrist Martin Blinder, who examined him, pointed out, "Thornwell was quite a mess." The ex-PFC himself admits to problems. "To this very day I get caught in flashbacks," says Thornwell. "I never know when I'm going to be back in that ghoulish mill."

James Thornwell died in 1984.



The Illuminati cards accurately predicted the future but so does the novel "Stand on Zanzibar," by John Brunner. This book is set in 2010 and correctly predicts political & economical events and technology progress (present day).

This book even has a passage that includes a popular leader named President Obomi in 2010. Keep in mind, this book was published 44 years ago.


(1) Random acts of violence by crazy individuals, often taking place at schools, plague society (school massacres).

(2) The other major source of instability and violence comes from terrorists, who are now a major threat to U.S. interests, and even manage to attack buildings within the United States.

(3) Prices have increased six fold between 1960 and 2010 because of inflation. (The actual increase in U.S. prices during that period was sevenfold, but Brunner was close.)

(4) The most powerful U.S. rival is no longer the Soviet Union, but China. However, much of the competition between the U.S. and Asia is played out in economics, trade, and technology instead of overt warfare.

(5) Europeans have formed a union of nations to improve their economic prospects and influence on world affairs. In international issues, Britain tends to side with the U.S., but other countries in Europe are often critical of U.S. initiatives.

(6) Africa still trails far behind the rest of the world in economic development, and Israel remains the epicenter of tensions in the Middle East.

(7) Although some people still get married, many in the younger generation now prefer short-term hookups without long-term commitment.

(8) Gay and bisexual lifestyles have gone mainstream, and pharmaceuticals to improve sexual performance are widely used (and even advertised in the media).

(9) Many decades of affirmative action have brought blacks into positions of power, but racial tensions still simmer throughout society.

(10) Motor vehicles increasingly run on electric fuel cells. Honda (primarily known as a motorcycle manufacturers when Brunner wrote his book) is a major supplier, along with General Motors.

(11) Yet Detroit has not prospered, and is almost a ghost town because of all the shuttered factories. However. a new kind of music — with an uncanny resemblance to the actual Detroit techno movement of the 1990s — has sprung up in the city.

(12) TV news channels have now gone global via satellite.

(13) TiVo-type systems allow people to view TV programs according to their own schedule.

(14) Inflight entertainment systems on planes now include video programs and news accessible on individual screens at each seat.

(15) People rely on avatars to represent themselves on video screens — Brunner calls these images, which either can look like you or take on another appearance you select — “Mr. and Mrs. Everywhere.”

(16) Computer documents are generated with laser printers..

(17) A social and political backlash has marginalized tobacco, but marijuana has been decriminalized.

Last month, George Benson took the number one spot as the highest-paid guitarist for 2013 with an estimated $96 million in combined earnings. George Benson's estimated net worth is $275 million dollars.

In Related News:

George Benson: “Love songs are one of the great essences of life, the only thing that’s lasting. Barry White spiced up the scene with an approach to music that was quite different to anyone else’s, but I’m a little more…” he bares a rack of white teeth, “… sober. Luther and I would joke about how many children the two of us were partly responsible for in this world, but I’ll always draw the line if someone writes something too sexually suggestive for me,” he says. “I just don’t feel I have to do that. Lionel Ritchie sang three songs about a lady and they were all smashes.”

Benson is the father of seven who has been married to the same woman, Johnnie, for 45 years – he's also a religious man, who conducts bible studies, and he's always objected to lubricious lyrics. “Although imagine me turning up at someone’s door to preach and they’ve got me singing in the background, telling them to 'do it to me one more time’,” he grins.

In the Fifties and Sixties, when jazz moved from good-time party music to high art, Charlie Bird Parker, one of the guitarist’s early heroes, was already making industry heads uneasy. “Here was a guy who, they claimed, 'was going to destroy jazz’. And, in fact, he did: jazz as they knew it. He changed the parameters, proved that African Americans could be a lot more intellectual than we had been given credit for, that we weren’t just folk who relied on our instincts and thumped along to the gospel vibe.

Miles Davis, who employed Benson in the Sixties on the album "Miles in the Sky," didn’t attempt to seek love from any quarter. “I always knew when to leave, because I’d see him getting fired up over autograph hunters who would come up and say things like, 'Do you remember 25 years ago when you did that thing?’ Only Miles didn’t want to be reminded of what he did 25 years ago, so he’d just shout 'shut the ---- up’ and refuse to sign the autograph.”

Michael Jackson, with whom he later became close, wasn’t fortunate enough to have his ascent to stardom tempered in the same way. “Where Michael came from was incredibly awful and I guess the family were trying to escape it and had all the potential right there. I have to give my mother credit for taking me out of the game when I was 11 years old. I was poor and raggedy, but I went back to school and got a little bit of an education and when I came out I got back into music.”

It wasn’t until 1978, having recorded a number of albums with jazz heavyweights and achieved financial success, that Benson got to know Jackson. “We met for the first time in London. We were both studying to be ministers [Jackson was a Jehovah’s Witness at the time] but from that point on the world just ate him up. I did feel sorry for Michael: apart from the adoration, he wasn’t getting the benefits of being famous.”

When Michael was at No 2 on the charts, he was making just as much money as he would have been at No 1, but as soon as he got there, the whole world came down.



J. Marion Sims used black slave women as guinea pigs by performing "experimental" surgeries on them (several experiments per slave). He often left tears in their vagina's and bladders; including other mutilations. These women suffered terribly and were scarred for life.


Women with vesicovaginal fistulas – usually the result of traumatic labor – were, in those days, social outcasts. No cure was available.

In Montgomery, Alabama, J. Marion Sims experimented on three Alabamian women who were held captive as slaves – Anarcha, Betsy, and Lucy – who were suffering from fistula problems, to develop new techniques to repair this condition and to be used as experiments for medical research.

From 1845 to 1849 he experimented on them, operating on Anarcha 30 times (it remains unclear if this was necessary or if Sims did it deliberately).

Although anesthesia had recently become available, Sims did not use any anesthetic during his procedures on Anarcha, Betsy, and Lucy. Sims felt the operations weren't painful enough to justify the trouble of using anesthesia (he was wrong).

After the extensive experiments and difficulties, Sims finally perfected his technique (after performing numerous mutilations on several other slave women).

It was only after the success of the early experiments on the slaves that Sims attempted the procedure on Caucasian women with fistulas, this time with anesthesia.

Doris Day continues to deny relationships with black celebrities: Maury Wills, Elgin Baylor and Sly Stone but she can't deny that her father married an African American woman named Luvenia Williams in the segregated (Jim Crow) 60's. The couple received death threats on a daily basis and Hollywood was terrified that the interracial marriage would affect Doris Day's career.


Doris Day's father William Bennett Kappelhoof (2nd & 3rd photos) allegedly disliked blacks but he fell in love and married a black woman.

In 1964, Kappelhoof (a tavern owner) filed for divorce, citing gross neglect. The couple reunited with Kappelhoof stating, "It was a misunderstanding, we're back together for life!"



















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