Thursday, January 30, 2014


First Sergeant Negro Corps
Shenandoah Valley Virginia
June 12th 1863

AN EXCERPT FROM MY BOOK: *Afro-American Stories Of Fright From The Old South


Midday noon summertime up to thee southern belle farmhouse,she stands wit her fine fancy pink ballroom dress and summer blue bonnet,that she in probably wore to one of them there high furlutin fancy white folk drankin wang dangs.Since thee killin start up,Miss southern bell stands out in front of her big white house,wit her big soup pot and wooden spoon.Wit not a sparkle in her pale sad po sad grievin face and dead blue eyes.Me and thee boys soldier on up to her lookin like what the cat drug in,a sight to see.Miss southern belle wit out a word.I be brave and walks up wit my blue cap pressed up against my chest,up to her I says; "Ma'am....we be powerfully hungri, and I be wonderin if in you can spare me and my boys here,ah lil somethin,thank ya ma'am." Wit out a sparkle in her dead blue eyes from under her fancy blue bonnet.She raise up the big wooden spoon,dips down deep into thee big stew pot wit it smell of cagy onion and pink veri rare hunks of meats.Me and my colored boys holds out our blue fightin caps.She fills it up to thee rim,wit thee cagy onion juice drippin down on our black shakin hands.Me and the boys sit down on thee red clay dirt ground listennin to our bellies talk-bark-cuss-laugh from three days of starving.My hunk of cagy,I bites down on some fat wit a piece of coarse hair stickin from outta my rare hunk.I picks it from my teeth,cause my belly be now playin a soft tune of good belchin replace thee cussin.Me and my boys gits up from our southern picnic wit a friendly bow of thank ya-thank ya vari much to Miss southern belle fur the thee fine cagy viddles.My boys and I roam back to our detail of clearin up our and they dead boys.But now our bellies are full wit hunks.We all look back starin and feelin a lil better now,thankin there be still some good folks around.We stare on wit lil smiles lookin at Miss southern belle and thee empty stew pot walking inside her big white farmhouse and close the door.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014


Over the weekend,I watched some old horror flicks.One of the flicks I watched was: Silence Of The Lambs.

                                               Great Movie! Great Movie!

                    I started to think about the topic of: cannibalism in African history.

     I founded out most African slaves,was taken from their homeland out of West Africa.

But...some enterprising enslavers-enslaved another kind of African; tribes located in the Republic of the Congo of central Africa.These tribes practiced cannibalism.Some of the individual tribe members were captured and brought to the States,where they and their new owners practiced cannibalism.

                  African CannibalismIt was said; the slaves was bred for such purposes in secret circles?

Saturday, January 25, 2014


              This is a topic that's never talked about in the Afro-American community.

A very good friend of mine,who I have known for years called me this morning,and swore on his life,that he came face to face with me last night in Ohio at a nightclub.

But...I have never been to Ohio?

I asked him;what did I say to him? My friend said; that I identified myself as me.But acted strange distant and cold towards him.

                          DoppelgangerRELEVANT STUFF!

Thursday, January 23, 2014


Black America Supernatural History,has caught some attention from a few that have been following the posts.

                                             I have received E-mails from:

* A now frighten young Afro-American male from Chicago,was visited by his two dead gangbanger thug associates gunned down on the street.Both former thugs told him that: if he was to die,or murder someone on those streets,his soul would meet them in a place of darkness,and demons for all eternity.And they were back to give him fair warning?

*An Afro-American construction worker in Boston said he encountered an odd yellow eyed creature slipping back down a hole,inside an old Victorian house basement floor.He described the creature as having green scaly skin like a reptile?

*A Spanish American single female in New York,who lives alone is awaken every morning for the past 3 months,the same time she moved into her home.To smells of fresh brewed coffee,and sounds of bacon and eggs frying in the kitchen.But when she walks into her kitchen,theres nothing on the stove?

                             RELEVANT STUFF!

                       If someone have relevant supernatural stuff to shout out!A STORY ABOUT YOU


Tuesday, January 21, 2014


It only takes a nudge to create relevancy.


Yesterday was Dr.King's B-day.If Dr.King would have stayed in a comfort zone,and just functioned as an ordinary Baptist Preacher and not leave his comfort zone,to stand behind Ms.Rosa Parks.
Would his dream had been the same?

Would it matter....?


As one of thousands of black preacher's,would he had been relevant?


But as a human being,fighting for injustice for another human being,and exposing its form of inhumanity,putting it into the spotlight,it became RELEVANT.

                          HELP KEEP ALL OUR HISTORIES RELEVANT

Friday, January 17, 2014


My great grand mama's eerie flailed old woman silhouette shadow would rock,back and forth in her rocking chair,in a dimly lit room with only the flicker of candle light on the wall.

As she'd rock back and forth,she would giggle a little and whisper in a low frightening tone;

"I...tell this story detailing events,that took place in that one night of hell with THEM.The Indians called THEM Gods.But...I know,there was only screams for God,as everyone there with THEM.Started to be eaten ALIVE."

  Our great grand mama use to scare the living hell outta all her great grand kids.

   I did eventually find out who and what THEM was.....?

   You Can Find Out Too By Reading My New BOOK


E-mail  for details on ordering your copy

Thursday, January 16, 2014


Remember:The shining/The green mile,Stephen King's best selling horror novels.King created both afro-american characters to possess ESP Extrasensory Perception.

It has been proven,that most individuals possess this phenomenon in small stages.In some individuals its much more prevalent.

I remember an Aunt,when ever she got pissed with my Uncle: things would just fly off tables,glasse's would break.

Clairvoyance,Precognitions,I am more then sure,most afro-americans had or have someone in their family with these unexplained abilities?


                    KEPT OUT OF THE LIGHT?Bluehost

Monday, January 13, 2014


My mind often wanders back to the magical night of,November 4th 2008.The election of the 56th,and 1st Afro-American President of the United States of America.It wanders back to a man,who ventured out of his comfort zone.

A United States Senator,who could have easily,just thanked God for his blessings,thanked the powers that be,and called it a day?

Barack Obama,didn't flinch,didn't resort to defeatism,or concern himself with the status quo.

One revered former President,called the mire notion of an Afro-American mindset to conceive,let alone venture out of his comfort zone,as nothing more then a fantasy.

                   Its been 7 years,Afro-America comfort zones have been redefined.

                                 OBAMA BASHED THEM!


                COMFORT ZONES BE DAMNED!


Friday, January 10, 2014


Why There Was Never A mention Of Black Americans Killed In The Great Chicago Fire Of 1871 and 1874....?

                       BASHING THE PERCEPTION

                                           Chicago DuSableOF 


Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Joseph Laroche



As writers of fiction/non-fiction,we have a literary slide of hand.But,at some point in our creations of Peoples,Places,and Times,isn't it prudent,to write what we know,or research what we don't know.Creative writing 101?

Out of all the books,films,and other dramatizations of the tragic tale of the Titanic.No fiction,non-fiction writer,screenwriter,playwright,or director has ever mentioned the family of Laroche.

Joseph Philippe Lemercier Laroche,and his family the only blacks,that were on the Titanic that tragic night of: April 15th 1912.Joseph lost his life along with over 1500 other passengers,survived by this wife and children.

Why...was it,and still so difficult to acknowledge this man,his wife and small children? A black man and his family.Why can't they be relevant,like the other 2nd class passengers presented on Wikipedia of the Titanic?

                  What Has The Soul Of This Brave Man Been Screaming Out Since 1912....?

                          The Laroche familyGIVE ME RELEVANCY!

Friday, January 3, 2014


                Tradition,a term thats been burned into my impressionable 8 year old mind.
In 1963,being only one of two kids visiting Birmingham Alabama,presented a host of social horrors,all aim towards my parents,and other family members.Our strong family unit,protected us kids.I reasoned why my aunts,and uncles decided to leave all their children at home,protecting them from the sadistic Jim Crow.

Its a wake at the house.Maybe living in the chilling Chicago Washburen house,had opened up sometype of dark realm within me? Meaning:I had experienced firsthand,black american supernatural occurrences,at the tender age of 6 years old.It was the last night of,my uncle somebody? Camping out dressed in his dark blue Dracula style funeral home suit,laid out in a brown oak wooden coffin,in the middle of a dimly lit frontroom.The time was set for,uncle somebody? To be planted in the ground.

The festive kitchen,was the spot of family celebration,located far in the back of my aunt's huge,ten room house.Me,and my little cousin,a few years younger,was told to leave the kitchen and go to bed.My guess was,the grown folks wanted to celebrate in private,with all the cussin,and drinking.
My little runny nose,hysterical crying cousin and I,started to venture down the long tunnel like,both sides pictured hallway,with pictures of family members in frames,with grim faces,some long dead,others still kickin,giving us both a right of passage towards a dim light up ahead,as we nervously eased closer,and closer to a dead black man,whose life was no more. "Boy,shut up that dam cryin!" Someone yelled from back in the kitchen,over the blasting roar of a blues number by Howling Wolf on the radio,mixed in with the cling/clang of whiskey glasse's,filled with brown liquor,and the raw tobacco smell,of non-filtered camel cigarette smoke.I held on tight to my little cousin's sweaty palm,both dressed in our bright red Mickey mouse PJ's,as we approached this man-a man we never knew from Adam,who once screamed at us both,for walking past his shiny new car. "Get yo,little asse's away from my car!" A man now laid out in a box,with thick gray tone funeral make-up on his death mask animated face.We eased past uncle somebody? Horrified,hearts beating like Buddy Rich on drums.Opening our bedroom door,locking it behind us,jumped in bed under the safety of covers,hand in hand connected like conjointed twins.Tap...Tap....Tap...a soft knock came from behind the bedroom door,with a slight jiggle of the doorknob. "Get...away from my car,get awayyyyy." An eerie far off disembodied voice from behind the door chastised two very frighten little boys,who fell off into deep sleep,haunted by the continous: "Get awayyyyy,from my carrrrr..."

         Protected by prayer,prevented whatever from entering,the innocence of a childs slumber.

Thursday, January 2, 2014


Tradition.....I can still hear my mama saying to me at 8 years old: "Awwww....chile,he can't hurt ya,baby he's dead."

It was my uncle somebody,theres a fear that still lingers deep within,from the wake that was in our home.afro funerals

I remember wanting to cry from being frighten,at walking past my uncle somebody,laying lifeless like a black vampire in our dimly lit livingroom next to me and my scared as well cousin bedroom.

Mama glared at me and said: "boy,hush ain't no cryin up in here! This here is TRADITION!"

tradional afro-american funerals