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Die By The Gun

10/22/2020 Anthony Dixon

Die By the Gun

When I started writing Blogs, one of my Primary Objective was to tell young Juvenile Delinquents not to be like I was. If you have pent up Anger, lose it before it destroys you. One young Delinquent who visited my Website is Emanuel Donaldson the 3rd. He is awaiting Trial for four random Murders in my Area. I certainly hope he Shared the Link among the Population. My Wife calls me Repetitious, but if they are reading my Blogs in Prison, then Success is mine.

From eight years old to fourteen years old I was someone consumed with Repressed Anger, Hate and Violence. The reason for that was from being Abused three times in six years. Once by an older Cousin, once by a Church Brother and once by a Teacher. They all caused me tremendous Pain which almost made me Impervious to Pain. At twelve years old playing Soccer in the Schoolyard, an eighteen years old Biker Boy joined the Game. He had an Injured Foot and shouldn’t be in the Game playing with twelve years old Children. I accidentally stepped on his bad Foot, causing him great Pain. He retaliated by punching me in the Solar plexus with all his might sending me to the Ground sucking in Dirt trying to breathe. When I recovered I left the Game ran Home and returned with an eighteen inch Chef’s Knife.

He escaped Death by running into his House and slamming the Door. That was my fourth Abuse, I was bent on Revenge. I knew that he had to pass my House every Night to get Home. One Night I devised the perfect Murder, being skilled with Ropes and Knotts, I strung a Rope across the narrow Lane that was my Street. Like all Bikers he rode too fast, when his Neck found the Rope, it yanked him from the shiny Harley which crashed and Burned. The Clothes Line was tied to the Fence in a slip-Knot, I yanked on it releasing it, removing it and disappearing in the Night. He survived only to wear a Neck brace for nine Months. I was as Devious as they come, I would walk up to him and like a Hippocrate asked him how he was doing, with great concern.

Today I work in a Justice System where a twelve years old Boy is awaiting Trial for Stabbing his Grandmother to Death. If I was on the Jury, I would concentrate on Extenuating Circumstances, what brought him to the Edge of Madness. Backing up to being fourteen with Repressed Anger, a sixteen years Thug was beating me senseless in the back of the Schoolyard. He was a Skilled Street Fighter who only used his Elbows, Knees and Head-But his Victims. I was just about to beg for Mercy when I found a Large Stick and unleashed six years of Repressed Anger on him. I Mannered that Boy up, he Whimpered and limped out of the Schoolyard. Feeling good about my Victory changed, when I learned that his two older Brothers eighteen and nineteen, were Gang Members with multiple Murders under thei’r Belts.

Revenge for beating thei’r Kid Brother Senseless was Inevitable. These Boys were Fearless, they thought their names were Frank and Jesse. One weekend there was a Gang Bangers Boogie in a close by Neighborhood. The two Brazen Gunmen Infiltrated The Rival Turf. They were met by a Firing Squad, the Bullets in thei’r Bodies couldn’t all be counted. A couple of Days later thei’r Caskets were placed on thei’r front Lawn for those who cared to pay their Respect. Brazen me decided to show my Disrespect by showing up and opened the closed Caskets. Looking at thei’r unrecognizable Dimpled Faces, cured my Violent Nature for the rest of my Life. Never again did I wanted to be a Badass, never again did I wanted to own a Gun.

The Lesson I learned at Fourteen was that if you lived by the Gun, the Outcomes are Inevitable. Still fourteen years old, one Day I had a front Row Seat to witness how a true Professional Discharges his Duties. One of my next Door Neighbors had developed Mental Illnesses. Nassiboo had attacked his Father with a Machete leaving him at Death’s Door. He Terrorized the Neighborhood including me, sneaking up on me With the same Machete. When the Detective came to bring him in, it was a Celebration for me. The Officer stood on the two foot Brick Wall and Announced himself to Nassiboo and told him that he was there to Arrest him. The poor Demented Man charged the Officer with the same Machete he tried to Behead his Father with.

There were five other Officers there, the Lead Detective was the only one who fired his Weapon, one Merciful shot to the Groin. The Ambulance took forever to come, Nassiboo didn’t make it. Which brings us to the Motivation for this Blog. Fifty three years later and Law Enforcement haven’t been able to train their Officers to be as Proficient as this one Detective. Several years ago in the Bronx, several Officers approached a Mentally Disturbed Black Man with a Knife in the Hallway of a Building. They all discharged thei’r Weapons like a Firing Squad, killing someone who should have been Tased. Those Occurrences happens Everyday in this Country. Marybeth Harshbarger shot and killed her Husband at fifty Yards, claiming it was an Accident. Mark once Bragged to me that she has hit Bullseye at one Thousand Yards.

Accident or Murder? You be the Judge. My Question is why don’t the Law Enforcement Agencies in this Country train their Officers to be as good as Marybeth. The Officers who Killed Breonna Taylor were at least Inept and Negligent. Once the first shot was fired the Situation should have become a Stand-off, they didn’t know if there were young Children in that Apartment. For that reason I believe that they should stand Trial for Negligent Homicide. Casting a Blind Eye and a Deaf Ear is Complicity. To you out there Protesting, the Pen is Mightier than the Gun, don’t Burn the Country Down, this is where I live. With all its Faults, America is still a Great Place to Live. Stand in the Place where you Live. Your Votes are more Powerful than all the Bullets in a Gatling Gun. God I Love this Writing Business, telling young People how not to live their Lives. It’s a darn shame I couldn’t see what my English Literature Teacher saw. Instead I chose to Party away my Learning years smoking the finest Strains grown around the World, listening to Grateful Dead, The Who and Pink Floyd talking about being Comfortable Numb ” You can take the Words right from my Mouth”.

P.S. Baby Boy is all Grown Up, that’s how come a Juvenile Delinquent like me can end up working in a Justice System, instead of being in the System. My Message to you Wannabes is that no Good Deed goes unpunished.

America, Life, Motivation, Parenting And Relationships, Religion

Five Percent

09/01/202009/01/2020 Anthony Dixon

Five Percent

I was no more than fifteen when I told my Mother that I Believed that 95% of the People on this Earth was no Good. That was around the time that J.F.K. and M.L.K. left us. They set me Straight on how People are supposed to Live. My Mother’s reply was ” Then it was your endeavor to seek out and find those five Percent”. I still can’t figure out where she got her Wisdom from. At this point in my Life I have surpassed that five Percent. Many times I ask God why did he saved my Life so many times. For instance the time the Garbage Truck was heading to the Dump. Twelve years old on a Mission to Die, I chased it down and jump on the back of it. The Driver saw me and decided to shake me off. He took the Turn wide then cut sharp, I rolled fifteen feet, the near Death Exposure was a Rush, I got up and walked away.

Fifty five years later the only Scar I received I wear it like an Emblem of my Stupidity. He saved my Life to tell that there are Great people out there and they should be Sought out.

In this Life I was always fortunate to have Known some Great People. John Gutfreund was one, I will forever be dropping his Name, he was an Influencer. Regardless of his Stature he was first a Human Being and a Humble Man with Millions. His Money didn’t make him act like he was Special and looked down on anyone, including me. Then there was Mrs P, I met her while living in Pennsylvania. She was a Third Generation Polish Woman who’s Family Members were Diamond Retailers. She Married a Black Man who supported his Family well enough.

They had three Children, two Boys who shadows their Father, the Girl took her Mother’s Complexion, sixty five Percent yet she was considered Black. She knew different she wasn’t White and she wasn’t Black. She was a Human Being, Grateful for Life in any Skin. We were great Friends, Her Husband was fourth Generation Polish American we also were Friends. Nonetheless he had underlying Hate. I have no idea what his problems were, Hitler stomped all over his People. Persecution been around before Jesus, it will never end, that’s just the way Humans are. If you know your History you walk with Pride and Humility. One Day while traveling to the Jobsite with the Boss who was a Die Hard Hater, The Radio was set on The Howard Stern Show.

One of his Guests made a Comment that Black People were incapable of taking Care of themselves and maybe they were better off in Slavery. He was an Idiot and whoever listened were the same. They both cracked up with Hilarious laughter they showed their true Colors and their Insensitivity. So you see I have been Fortunate to have Known the Good the Bad and the Ugly Americans. Yet I keep searching for the five Percent. I never let the Mass put a Damper on my search for Cool People who just wanted to get along with each other. Years later I moved to Florida into a Gated Community That had never seen a Black Resident before me. Nevertheless you could not tell by the way they treated me with Fellowship and Respect. Many of us became good Friends we visited each other’s Home and Socialized.

This was a Community of five Percenters and proud of it. Today I see People gearing up to start a Civil War, not realizing that we can’t afford to tear it down. It cost Taxpayers Dollars to rebuild Burnt out Storefronts. Revolutions are never free or Bloodless. Instead we should stand in the place where we Live and treat our Neighbors how we would like to be treated. Division is preached from the Highest Podiums with disregard for Peace and Tranquility. A Great American Statesman once said that Tyrants keep the People Ignorant with Disinformation. That’s how they stay in Power. As the Song goes” Ebony and Ivory living together in perfect Harmony” M.L.K’s Dream. Welcome to the New Order of five Percentages. One cold Winter’s Day that lives in my Heart keeps me Grounded and Focused.

Living in the North I learned to deal with cold Weather. Walking in Downtown Clearwater, surrounded by a Wealth of Scientology Buildings, I noticed an Indignant Woman shivering. I was wearing a Brand New Hoodie, I took it off and gave it to her. She didn’t say a Word but I know that our Hearts touched. A piece of Scripture flashed through my Head, ” I came to you dressed as a Beggar and you turned me away”. Two Days ago twelve at Night I am at the Service Station, a young Man in his twenties asked me for help. I didn’t know his Circumstances so I gave him enough to eat something. The Color of their Skin was of no Relevance, I am not a Sucker, I am my Brother’s Keeper, be he Black Yellow or White. I am so Glad that I never forgot my Flower Children Culture. You can say what you want about Hippies but they had the right Idea, Love the one you’re with. It’s a small World we are living in, you’re not alone, your Children are watching.

https://images.app.goo.gl/4Rc6EdMUVtkjnreP7

Life

You Can’t Run Away from Yourself

06/17/202006/18/2020 Anthony Dixon

Hate is a Powerful Emotion and a Dangerous one. It can cause Ill-Effects on your Health Physically and Emotionally, on others also. It can Destroy People’s Lives, yours also. It can have effects on how you deal with Family Members and the People you work with.

Nineteen seventy one, I was seventeen years old working full-time and going to School. I worked for a High Class Restaurant located on fifth Avenue where Dinner was one Hundred Dollars a Plate. I was a Pantry Chef, the Money was Great for a High School Kid. The Exposure to different People and Lifestyles were Awesome. My Boss however was a Hater who had no Respect for Black People even if you were seventeen years old, great at what you do and never received one Complain, only Compliments and Tips from the Customers.

My Grandma was a Baker, known for Miles for her Cakes. I was only Four but I was her little helper, always watching and tasting. My Mother was a Professional Cook, working in Kitchens before any other Women. Her word of Advice, whatever you do, be the Best, always go the extra Mile. She said that Racists will never Accept you but they will Respect you for the Job you Do. Mother wasn’t usually wrong about anything, except this one. This was my first real Job, a test for Moms Declaration, It failed miserably. This Man didn’t care that I was making him one Thousand Dollars per Night. I was Black and that was that. He tried to humiliate me in front of the all white Wait Staff. So began my Odysseus of walking out of good Jobs once the ugly Head of Racism popped up.

On my way to work riding the number four Train where I did my Homework. I couldn’t concentrate to do my Homework. All I could think about was going to work and throwing my Boss from the sixtieth Floor. From my Violent Youth I know that it was time to go. When I was fourteen I kicked a Teacher’s Ass for grabbing my Testicles. I know that he would eventually loose that Eye. I exited the Train at forty second Street, walked up fifth Av went upstairs, punched in and immediately punched back out. This was the first of many good paying Jobs I walked out on not giving one minute notice. I have no problems with Closet Haters, after all this is America, Freedom of Choice. All I ask is, keep your Ignorance to yourself. Don’t put me in a Corner and poke me with a Stick. My Wife says that I use Biblical Quotes self servingly.

My Right Hand have offended me on just about every Jobs that I have worked in this Hateful Land. Nineteen seventy seven I did the same thing working at an all White County Club in Texas, this was a no Brainer. My Boss called me across the Dining Room floor, ” Mr Dixon, please come here,” one of the Members stood up and ask, what is this World coming to? Did you hear that White Man called that Nigger Mr. Again my Mind told me to react Violently, once again I walked out on a good paying Job. I was not taken aback by his Vociferous Diatribe, after all this was Texas 1977. The only things they Detested more than Interracial Marriages were Hippies and Drugs. To be caught with less than an ounce of Marijuana could get you twenty years.

Five years earlier a young Black Man who had a White Girlfriend was beaten within Strands of his Life and dumped across State Line, in a Ditch to Die of his Wounds. They wave the Confederate Flag Proudly. Nineteen seventy nine I was Grandfathered into the Investment Banking Company of Solomon Brothers Inc. Working as a Contract Employee I was given the choice of working for Solomon or to be desolved along with the Contract. Filling out Employment Forms were only a Formality, I was already guaranteed the Job. The Personnel Manager was Dumbfounded by the Number of Jobs that I had for my Age. Little did he know that Solomon was also Destined for my List of former Employment. I worked in the Internal Security Department.

Our Job was to protect the Company’s Assets of six Billion Dollars, some Instruments were Bearer Bonds, one piece of paper that was worth Millions. Another part of my department’s Job was to protect the Company’s Data. One Day while walking through the Mergers and Acquisitions Department, I noticed papers left on a Xerox Machine. I started reading The Copies left behind, my Curiosity exploded. I started digging through the Garbage Can. What I found could have made me an instant Millionaire. I had in my possession Inside Information on a Hostile Takeover. My findings and my Report made it to John Gutfreund’s Desk. Months went by and The Issue was Water under the Bridge. Nonetheless The King of Wall Street knew who I was and had developed The highest Respect for me.

One Day while waiting for the Elevator, a Crowd gathered, Gutfreund emerged from the Crowd of all Managing Directors. They were showering him with Praise. I guess that Huge Money was made. The Elevator arrived, wanting to be the first off the Elevator, I allowed them all to get on ahead of me. I entered the Elevator and turned my Back to the Crowd. Someone in the Crowd tapped me on my Shoulder, I looked around, it was Gutfreund, he said good Morning young Man. He didn’t say a word to the Crowd of Brownnosers, I was the only one on that Elevator that he spoke to. I felt like a Weasel for not speaking first. The Respect He showered me with had a Humbling Effects.

When the Vault was Audited I was assigned to Babysit The Accountants, when his Twelve Million Dollars Apartment on Fifth Avenue was Renovated, I was given the Assignment to Babysit The Contractors. There were Retired Police Officers in the Department, yet I was chosen to protect John’s Array of Priceless Ming Collection. Mr G as I called him had restored all my Self respect that was taken from me by Haters. The Director of my Department was a Retired NYC Chief of Police, his Assistant was also a Retired Chief of Police, both Haters. Within a short while they were both replaced. The replacement, a Retired FBI Biggie and a Retired NYC Police Sergeant, both Haters. I asked myself, is this Hate Business Institutionalized? The Department was basically purged. One of my new Coworkers once asked me how did I get in. In other words, I was Black, he continued, who do you know.

In other Words a Black Man couldn’t secure a Position in a Prestigious Company like Solomon without a Hook. At that time in our Glorious History Black People were far and few on Wall Street. To work on Wall Street you had to be the very best at what you do, if you are Black. I thought that I had secured my Last Job, despite the Atmosphere, I was going to Retire from Solomon in twenty five years. The Fringes were Phenomenal. My first year Bonus was eight Thousand Dollars the Healthcare package better than Government Employees. My Profit sharing Investment in High Risk grew quickly. Why would I leave, I decided that the Slings and Arrows of Hate couldn’t chase me away. How Naive I was. After Ten years of Exceptional Service.

One Day I visited Solomon’s new location on the sixty ninth Floor of the World Trade Center. I was so Taken by the Ambience, I quickly submitted my request for a Transfer. Being a Model Employee who only missed two Days of work in ten years, I was certain that it was a done Deal. Was I in for a Surprise when my Hateful Superiors Denied my Transfer, strictly on the Color of my Skin. I was once again Face to Face with the Ugly Heads of Medusa. Once again I cut my Right Hand off. I Cashed in my Portfolio, flipped them the 🐦 and moved to Pennsylvania. One Day while working in a Resort, I watched the Worst Day in American History.

I didn’t see the Planes hit the Buildings, all I saw was the Building that Solomon occupied collapsing Floors after Floors till there was only Dust. All my Friends were gone, so were my Enemies, Solomon lost nine Hundred Employees, I would have been Nine o one. I remember the Day that my Transfer was Blocked. My Mother saw my Depression and asked me what was wrong. I told her that they Blocked my Transfer. She responded everything happens for a Reason, God has Plans for you. My Advice to you who are on your way, don’t do as I did, when the Heat gets Hot don’t run stand your Ground and fight. Nobody is giving you anything for free. Most of all earn your Respect, never lose your Self Respect because of what Haters do or say.

These are the Lyrics to my favorite Song by my favorite Group Through the Roots.

Where are we going

Look where we’ve been

Ignoring the signs

Blinding our eyes

Where will it end

We can live in the light

Or hide in the darknes

We continue to fight

Though we didn’t start this

And it’s killing me

See this world that we share

Painted by artists

Placing strokes without care

Think it’ll be easy to find some peace in a world but we’re are all just fighting each other

But a perfect pitch has a perfect plan and it’s not just a crushing of color

Can you hear my voice as I’m crying out

This is the movement, so move with me now, now

I believe that if we come together

We can get higher, higher, higher

I believe that if we stand together

We will rise higher, higher, higher

I believe that life is a canvas its all part of something bigger

Constantly changing with the times an ever evolving figure

What will it take to walk hand in hand change with the times and understand

Make harmony what’s unity

Erase the meaning of a foreign land

Now it’s a world with no borders

Demanding a new world order

Imagine that we never had to read another story of a life cut short by a murder

It should be easy to find some peace in a world since we all share this place with each other

Its up to us to spread the love around

We’ve got to support one another

Can you hear my voice as I’m crying out

This is the movement, so move with me now, now

I believe that if we come together

We can get higher, higher, higher

I believe that if we stand together

We will rise higher, higher, higher

I believe that if we come together

We can get higher, higher, higher

I believe that if we stand together

We can rise higher, higher, higher

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Dwight Duncan / Troy Barrington Mclean / R. Mcleod / Carl Mcleod / Dwight Marvin Duncan / Carlton Oliver Mcleod / Raymond Mcleod / Raymond Vincent Mcleod

America, Life, Motivation

R.I.P

06/04/2020 Anthony Dixon

That was just a Dream

Wrong is just Wrong

The System Fails us Daily, I should’nt have the Notion to touch Base with it. People far more qualified have tackled it and failed. However I must observe that Man have been Flawed since the Day Cain rose up out of Jealousy and Killed. No Matter how near or Far, if you Kill in the absence of self defense, you are Flawed. That’s a nice way of saying you are Abnormal, in a way Handicapped, being unable to Rationalize your Thoughts before you Act. With that said I must tell you about a young Woman I met years ago. She was Vacationing with her Parents at the Resort I worked. Being a People Person I struck up a Conversation with her Parents. When I told them that I Blogged, they asked me to write about Jenny.

I asked them to talk about their Daughter who sat in a Wheelchair in a Degenerative Paulsey condition. While they talked she listened intensely and made poor speech gestures, agreeing and disagreeing. Jenny turned out to be one of the most Fascinating People I have ever met. She proved to me that we are who exactly who or what we choose to be. She was one of the Poster Children that forced Government and Society to create Handicap Accessibility to Public Buildings. Once that was accomplished after a long Uphill Battle, she went on to School and obtained two Degrees In Social Science dealing with People of her Kind. The sad outcome, she never landed a Job in her Field. All everyone saw was her Debilitating Physical appearance, not the Gifted Mind and Resilience. So you see Prejudice goes beyond Color or Race.

The World's Greatest Daredevil

Sad but nonetheless a true Story of Human Strength. Something that so few posses, the strength to hold Convictions and to be resolute with what you do with your Life. I was given the Conviction to change my Life and I did. It is so easy to Blame, even tho God gave you Convictions to change the things you are able to change, and to accept with Serenity that which you can’t.The Choice to Hate is equivalent to Smoking Cigarettes, it’s a bad choice, you know that it’s bad for your Health, yet you puff away. Well my Friend Hate carry the same weight for your Mental Health, Nonetheless you Puff away on the Cigarette called Hate. Remember the Word Abnormal, unable to constructively rationalize your Thoughts. It’s an absolute Shame that some Institutions are named after Great Men.

My High School for instance, William Howard Taft. When I attended Taft it was eighty five percent White, ten percent Black and five percent Latino. The latter two came to the Neighborhood for a better Life, a safer Place than the Hood, most of all a better Education. The Neighborhood’s Racial Gentrification was representative of the School. The Abnormal Attitude that these People had was that we didn’t belong there.(“This Land is your Land this Land is my Land , this Land was made for you and me”) After School there were Black Bashing, White Bashing and Gay Bashing, welcome to the Bronx 1969. America was on Fire with Hate and the Fire still Burns today. Doctor King Squelched it somewhat but the Embers refuse to be extinguished. The Movie the Bronx Tale said it all.

I have been walking through the Valley of the Shadows of Death for fifty Years. I am not coining Phrases, 1971 I escaped the Shadows of Death by God’s Grace. Years after many Black Men had Sacrificed their Lives so I could walk down an all white Street and wasn’t set upon by Children of Haters who inherited their Parents Hate, or overzealous Block Watchers or even the Cops, like it happened to me in 1971. This was Just around the time when J Edgar Hoover ran the FBI like a Luftwaffe. He waged War on the Black Panther Party killing everything that looked Militant. At that point in time it appeared that Racism was Institutionalized in America. Many Days walking through White Neighborhoods all I could hear in my Head was Arlo Godfry’s song ” this Land is your Land this Land is my Land this Land was made for you and me”.

That Sentiment almost got my Friends and I Killed walking through all White Bensonhurst Brooklyn 1971. It was a beautiful Summer’s Day we were on our way to a Backyard Cookout near Bensonhurst. We got off the Train and decided to take a shortcut through an all White Block. We weren’t half way through the Block before we were swarmed by Cops with Tactical Gears, the only thing they didn’t have was Rocket Launchers. Five well Dressed Black Kids, the oldest was nineteen. If one of us got nervous and ran or reached for Identification, we would all be Dead, they all had Shotguns. After we showed ID and explained where we were heading the Trigger Fingers were relaxed, one Cop explained that a Neighbor called and told them that a Black Gang was loitering in the Neighborhood. This is not about the angry Black Man Syndrome, I am way beyond small People with big Hate. I am on a Cloud looking Down on them knowing that I overcame all their Hate and have none of my own. One good thing about Living in America for over fifty years, I have seen one of Dr King’s Dream come true, watching a Rainbow Collation of People marching for George Floyd. Forget about the Looters and Rebel Rousers, they have been around since 1794 yelling Guillotine. Stand Tall America, your time has come to show the World who you are.