Reflections of an American Patriot

I was a young boy when JFK was assassinated. My Father, a lifelong democrat until he died more than a decade ago, worked tirelessly, with my mother who is now 96, to get JFK elected. Dad was a sergeant in the U.S. Army Air Force unit called the Flying Tigers. He was stationed in the Chinese/India mountains during WWll to protect China. There’s some irony for you. When JFK was murdered my mother cried for three days. My Father was so grief stricken that he buried his head in work and didn’t really come back to us for a few years. My younger siblings were not old enough to feel the pain of what had happened. I was.

My classmates laughed when the announcement that JFK had been killed came over the loudspeaker in my classroom. We lived in a very Republican district. My brothers and sisters and I were taught every night at dinner who our mayor was, who our assemblyman was, who our state senator was, who the President and Vice President were, which parties they belonged to etc. We were then asked questions about politics and local and world events. It was a lot of fun. We argued. We laughed. I didn’t know it then but it was a home of Patriots. I was taught in a school that was not afraid of the Pledge of Allegiance. I was young when JFK was shot. But I knew what had just happened. I watched with pain and then glee when Lee Harvey Oswald was shot right on TV. I can still vividly see Oswald’s face as he took the bullet that killed him.

Until his death, my father clung to the idea that Oswald shot JFK. I believed it too until Martin Luther King was murdered. Still my father believed Oswald killed JFK. He believed this until he died. He believed it, not because of any evidence, he believed it because he could not contemplate the idea that the country he fought for and so many died for could have, in any way, been responsible for killing John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy. He once told me that all institutions are run by people and all people have weaknesses and therefore all institutions have weaknesses. He told me not to judge great institutions and ideals by the weaknesses of simple men. I’m glad he could not wrap his head around the idea that his own country could have murdered a great man like JFK, weaknesses and all. It would have been too painful, too disturbing, too dishonoring an idea for an American Patriot like my Dad. It would have been an injustice to force such a malicious reality into this righteous, spiritual man with his unwavering love of America, his beloved Country.

I never argued with him about it. I had too much respect for him to do that. But I could smell a rat. When MLK was murdered something stirred in my soul. Something was very wrong. I had no evidence, I simply knew it. As the war in VietNam went on and on, the smell of rats became stronger. Stronger even when RFK was murdered. The deeper I read, the sicker I became. I was constantly nauseated by an idea that kept on becoming clearer and more apparent. Is my country, the country I was so proud of, the country I loved for reasons I could hardly enunciate or express – could America really do this? It was difficult to even think this was possible.

Over the years many ideas presented themselves. It must have been Castro. Maybe it was the mafia. Maybe it was Oswald who killed John F. Kennedy. For awhile things quieted down. I did not have to think about it anymore. I was at ‘peace’. And life went on.

Well I’m 70 years old. I have a family and I live well in a world that is not well. I don’t feel guilty about that, it does no good. Over the last several decades, especially during the Presidency of Donald Trump, the old ideas I had buried came to the surface again. Ideas I had thought about and threw away –  about an out-of control CIA, FBI and other multiple letter US agencies began to reveal themselves. I began to play “Revolution” by Lennon/McCartney over and over. I could not let go of the lyric: “but if you go carrying pictures of chairman Mao, you ain’t gonna make it with anyone anyhow”. The whole lot of democrats and republicans began to smell like rats. The stench became unbearable when the election of Trump was stolen right in front of my eyes.

And then it all became clear. The more Trump fought, the more the rats revealed themselves. More and more rats. And they had a name: the Deep State. They had other names: Globalists, the Cabal, the Establishment, the One World Order. First I was sick. Very sick. I was glad my Dad didn’t have to see this. The rats were revealing themselves. More revelations each day. We don’t have to look for them anymore. They are revealing themselves more and more as we give them more and more time to do so. These are days of darkness. But I believe, as my Dad did, America is a land worth fighting for. Even with it’s imperfections – and there are many. Ultimately, this is one of the most important things Dad taught me.

Now I am again reminded that I live in the midst of a country seemingly controlled by the Deep State or as a New York Times writer proudly calls it: the Cabal. A ruling class of people who try to destroy the lives of anyone who disagrees with their ‘truth’ – in America. Where people who dare to express their own truth are crushed – in America. A time when ordinary people like myself often wonder, where are our God-given rights? Where is free speech? Where is the respect for our Forefathers our Constitution and our Bill Of Rights? Where is Love and Forgiveness? Where is America?

My Dad was a very religious man. Through all this darkness I think I can see the Light. I believe God is always here. You just have to ask for Him. If you ask for Him, He will find you – and your country. I believe the Light is on it’s way. The rats are revealing themselves. We don’t even have to try so hard to find them. We don’t need a ‘purge’ to find them. Perhaps America has produced a new brand of Patriot to bring ‘we the people’ out of the darkness and into the Light of Freedom. I think I can see the Light at the end of the tunnel now – and I don’t think it’s an oncoming vehicle.