Thread: Special Announcement: ALIPAC's 3 year anniversary on 9/11/20

Happy Anniversary Alipac.

Funny, Dixie. Sorry, I haven't been popping in here much today. Been watching the Mexican truck deal. I think Dorgan's amendment killed it when it passed.

I have been here for a year. So much has happened...I can only imagine where we will be in a year. Who will be our president???

Anyway, I am so glad for alipac.

I was fortunate one day to listen to the Al Rantel radio/ talk show on KABC (790 AM) in Los Angeles. It was then I first heard Al Rantel and Mr. Gheen converse about the treacherous Senate amnesty bill and began reading the news and posts in the ALI-PAC web site.

I joined ALI-PAC recently and I am honored to be a part of this group of true hearted and faithful Americans on this day, September 11th 2007.

Thank you Mr. Gheen for your leadership and hard work! Thanks also to all members within this group with whom I feel a deep American kinship.

In late April 2005 my son and I were on a passenger ferry headed for the port of Long Beach CA, headed home from the resort isle of Catalina. I happened to be seated no more than 10 to 12 feet from a table occupied by three young men.

Having spent about a year ('90 & '91) in the Persian Gulf, I recognized their speech, I heard them speaking Arabic. One of the three, whom I dubbed "Shemp", was not feeling too well. Shemp, I could definitively say was and probably still is a land lubber. Shemp laid his head on his fore arms and supported all atop the table. He sat facing away from me, no doubt wishing he had sea legs. I would later see that he was the fairest among the three but all could easily get by as some of our friendly trespassers from south of the border.

His two mates across the table were the ones jabbering away in Arabic. In a short time I locked eyes with "Larry". Larry was pretending to read a magazine in his hands, he did not immediately recognize that I noticed the cover page was up side down. Larry instead seemed to be intensely interested in what was outside of his personal space, at least until he saw me scrutinizng him and his pals. We stared at each other for a fraction of a second where upon he broke off his look and leaned over to his right to speak to "Moe". Moe was busy tapping and prodding a palm pilot or some similar device. Moes' eyes never left the toy in his left hand, he just made some remarks to Larry who then went back to his magazine and righted it in the correct orientation. Moe reminded me of Mohammed Atta the murderous pilot of the first WTC strike. He had a similar hair cut, complexion and demeaner.

I turned my attention to my young son who, like Shemp has no sea legs and was sleeping on my lap. I tried to relax and take a short nap but the exchange of looks made me want to keep an indirect, occassional scan at their direction.

Upon docking I stayed seated as all the passengers seemingly arose simultaniuosly and made for the exit. I reasoned a thinned out crowd makes it easier to get about with a youngster in tow so I waited a bit. As I readied to stand and move out, I saw out of the coner of my left eye, the three stooges blocking my way into the aisle. I looked up from a seated position at their menacing faces.

The message conveyed was of contempt, pure hatred and tinged with a knowing smirk. I read it as a secret, a knowledge, an ideation of a day of reconning that is not far off. They said nothing, just turned quickly and left. I picked up my boy and ran to the opposite side of the ferry, away from the docked side. To the furthest corner I went and wondered if something horrible was about to happen. I was the last to disembark, I quickly returned to my seat grabbed my bag and ran like hell was at my heels. I avoided the main exit, I went up and over the building using an alternate route to the parking structure and left in a cloud of dust.

Today, I listened to Dr. Michael Savage wonder why there is not a 1-800 number to call and report suspicious activity or any strange encounter. It is an echo of the same thoughts that came to my mind in April of 2005. To whom do I place an un-PC call? Would I be charged with an imaginary hate crime?

America today and of the recent past decade and a half (and more) is much like that of a creaky old barge. Ready to find its way down a few thousand fathoms below, along side of Davy Jones locker. The men who man the helm are blind, deaf and insane. Why are our enemies among us with no fear of arrest? The American patriot has more to fear of his own government, from deemed hate speech that is in reality truth speech and from legal woes from anti-American dregs who fancy themselves "lawyers". Perhaps the utter destruction of this country at the hands of our enemies will be the catalyst for a rebirth of the America as it should have always been. I pray still for a better end.