Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, I’m free at last! I just attended my third convention in three or four weeks, the Council of Conservative Citizens in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. After a lifetime of setting up and attending conventions, I hope this was my last one.

They’re still convening. I got there for the first speech, then I went out into the hall and met the attendees, those who were not officials or speakers. God, they will never know how I admire them!

How do they work, raise families, stay active locally in a cause that is dangerous to be in, and then drive hundreds of miles just to listen?

The leaders who knew who I was charged by me and nodded and told me how busy, busy, busy they were. The only person who went up to my room and sat and talked with me was San Francis, my old colleague from Capitol Hill in the 1970s. Like all the people I stayed in touch with and kept working with, he is hard core. He had a very nice and lucrative job with the Washington Times but he just wouldn’t stop telling the truth about race issues, so they fired him

Sam was standing there, meeting people and being available for an emergency, which is what any old pro at a convention does. He talked to me a long time because we have a lot to talk about, but he did it for another reason: He would rather die than run by Bob Whitaker at a convention and tell me he was busy, busy, busy.

Sam and I have organized more conventions than either of us care to remember, and if you run by an old pro and say how busy, busy, busy you are, you might as well have the word “AMATEUR” tattooed on your forehead.

The National Alliance crowd came in and huddled together talking to each other. Jared Taylor, whom I admire greatly – he tears them to pieces when they let him on talk shows — charged by.

I went to lunch alone. I went to supper alone. Then I figured I could do that at home, so I came on back.

I don’t think any other human being has ever been so happy to be snubbed. I had traveled to New York on Amtrak for the three-day-long Talkers Magazine New Media Convention, and, with delays, spent almost two days on the train. Immediately I had to prepare for the David Duke get-together in New Orleans. I wrote and rewrote my speech several times, and then deliver one off the cuff that was very different from the written one. Dave was pressed for time, and I was the only speaker who did not use more than his allotted time. I had half an hour and finished in eleven minutes.

My Methodist circuit rider grandfather used to say, “If you can’t say it in fifteen minutes, you don’t know what you are talking about.”

I came back from New Orleans with what I thought was a bad cold. Then I thought it was flu. Then it really got serious. A nurse told me it was serious, they didn’t know what it was, but it had been going around where she was –God knows where she was calling from – and I needed to call my doctor brother immediately and get antibiotics for it.

Both cold and flu are viruses, and you don’t use antibiotics on a virus. My brother prescribed an antibiotic, and I was finally fighting it off when I learned from Charles Lindbergh that they were holding a C of CC convention starting two days later at Pigeon Forge. C of C is a group I admire, so I decided to drive up. The fact I was going up helped them because it was advertised on Stormfront in promoting the convention, so the drive was worthwhile for me.

But I was TIRED! I am ecstatic to be home. If I got snubbed some and left, I couldn’t be happier about it.

God bless the CofCC. If I had my fondest wish, there would be a hundred groups like the Council of Conservative Citizens and I would consider it an honor to be snubbed by every one of them. They are fighting to save my race, and I am at their service.