About Me, About Why?

The main body here is already on the site in an another place as ‘About Me”. Felt that i should put on the main plate. I know what i am writing to some seems scary. It’s supposed to be, it is supposed to make you think. It is supposed to explain the truth in a way that the Zionist USA Federal Empire, made DAMN SURE you never heard. You the reader, have a right to know why i am doing this. Many reasons

Noblesse Oblige is not just a term to me.

One does ones Duty to the Light.

Standing against evil, is always the right thing to do.

And this:

I grew up, the last child in a large family. My parents married young, early in the 1930s depression years. Dad always had work, sometimes made that work himself. Took a Model T truck, ran a pulley off of one rear wheel. Mounted a buzz saw on top of the bed. Jack the rear up is the field. He sold cord wood. Worked gas stations, carried ice into homes, businesses and houses of ill repute. Always told me, “Son, even a prostitute has a right to say no.”

Good man. Had many friends in the black community, because he respected them, respected their women. Said many times he tried to stop carrying ice, and the plant would come bribe him back with more money, to deliver to the black part of town. said a lot of white guys got down in black town, thought they could get too friendly with the wives of the black men. They trusted my dad around their wives and daughters.
Thats the kind of man he taught me to be.

Along the line, he surrendered to the ministry. he worked full time, wife and a kid, wife pregnant, not doing well. his widowed mother was living with them trying to help out. Right in the middle of this in WW 2, he gets his draft notice. He went down to the doctor, who had delivered him as a child, and who sat on the local draft board. He told him about my mother being pregnant and sick. Asked him if he could get a deferment until the baby came, said he would go then, no problem. The old doctor told him, “No can’t do it. But i can get you a deferment because you are studying for the ministry.” My father told him, “No doc, those boys i went to school with don’t have that option.” He turned it down and reported to the draft board.

He told me the story many times. I realized later, he was making sure that i understood, you do not except special privilege, that is not available to the people around you. He had other stories with the same message. He told me, “I am up on this cold metal table. It is winter time, it is cold. I am naked, on all fours. A doctor is looking up my butt. He calls another doctor over. Now two of them are looking up my butt.” One says, “Boy, aren’t you afraid you will bleed to death?” He said, “Well, i never have.” They 4-f ed him for hemorrhoids. Sent him home to my mother.
Thats the kind of man he taught me to be.

He was a pastor in a Southern Baptist Association. He was pastoring two churches, seven miles apart, neither which could afford a pastor by themselves. Many time he had to work an outside job to support his family. Here he did not have to. Not like now. Country churches in working communities did not pay a lot. He could have had larger churches, did not want them. Said people lost their zeal for being better people in the large churches. I went everywhere with my mother and father before i started school. There was a Baptist encampment, a retreat on a mountain stream in the area. Retired preacher got in as administrator. He stole everything that was not tied down. The encampment was in the red. One of the administrator’s big pastor pals got up at a workers conference, wanted to make a motion for the association to bail out the encampment, give them a big chunk of operating money. You could tell most of the pastors, most larger churches than my father, did not want to do it. But none of them had the BALLS, to stand up, speak up. My Father stood up. Said, “Gentlemen, would seem to me that there is a hole in the bottom of the money bucket at the encampment. Now, i do not think it wise to keep shoveling money in a money bucket with a hole in the bottom. Perhaps we should concentrate on fixing the hole in the bucket first.” The rest of the pastors then stood up and agreed. There was a change of administration made at the camp, things got back on track.
Thats the kind of man my Father raised me to be.

Wife and i was talking yesterday about why i was doing this. Told her, yes, there is always danger speaking out against evil. But the thing i fear much more, is when i cross over and see my Father again, i do not want to have to drop my head and hear him say, Why didn’t you stand up and speak out against evil boy?

Thats why i speak out, because my Father Raised me to.

John C Carleton