A year ago I made a decision that would change my life. I decided that the world needed to see Nazi violence, but not how the media would filter and digest it.
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What I heard them yelling at me, at all of us, was vile and violent and the stuff of nightmares. They were so hateful. And they were so fucking happy about it, too.
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My wife was watching along at home as the horror unfolded. All my thoughts were of her. When my phone got punched from my hand, I went back in to get it so she could know I was alive... if I were to survive.
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That night was historical. And anyone who saw that night knew that the next day should have never happened. Everything was preventable. We told them. The failed. They continue to fail.
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You can’t leave the trauma of terrorism behind you. It stays with you always. A year ago I discovered a courage i always hoped to have, and in the year since I discovered a different one I never knew I’d need.
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Today my friends and peers and comrades march against all forms of white supremacy, which included the police. I love them, and I wish I could be there with them. But a dear friend reminded me that this fight is long, and I can do my best work by staying alive and not giving up.
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A lot changes in a year, but one thing hasn’t changed: how much we must continue to fight. Fight white supremacy every day, and with every ounce of your soul.
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I feel awful every time I see all of the posts on here whenever there’s a Nazi gathering like this. I wish I could help out somehow! But I’m up in MN.
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