To Fam, From Sam (Part II)

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Editor’s Note: Sam is a Full Haus fan favorite, the oldest Birth Panelist, and has more children than most of us combined. This is the second installment of his autobiography, available exclusively on We will continue to release new chapters every week. Check back regularly for the latest edition from the Dickens of white nationalism! Part I:


I remember one of my earliest racisms. When my older half-brother turned 18 in the late 1970s, he joined the Army. About two years in he married a black woman and had a child with her. This was a surprise because he constantly used the term, “Jungle Bunny” to refer to blacks. He was stationed in Germany. I am not sure why so many guys do this: Join the military and quickly marry a negro or some other non-white. I would see this pattern again and again in later life. The marriage would not last, though: they were divorced within two years.

The woman would go on to go blind. He went on to have three more marriages (though to white women). I was about ten years old. I attended Catholic catechism classes and the teacher asked each student to talk about his family. When it was my turn I described my family but then it dawned on me: I could play this family shame of the mixed-race marriage for a laugh and ‘score a point’ (so to speak). So, I said that my (half-)brother had joined the army and married a black woman and [dramatic pause] – had a baby! The whole class laughed! I laughed along with them but looked sideways out of the corner of my eye to enjoy the deadpan disapproving reaction of the teacher. By Jove, it seemed like I knew what I was doing! She asked if ‘that’ (the marriage) had hurt me. But the point that I would later understand was that the reaction of laughter among the children was normal. The parents of each and every one of those kids had certainly not sat them down to explain the evils of inter-racial marriage. TV and movies certainly were no source of reinforcement of the racial instinct. It is a natural reaction. Imagine if two faggots walked past a schoolyard at recess holding hands when you were a kid:  Who would not laugh at the two silly men holding hands? We only lose this normal instinct when it has been drilled out of us by propaganda.

I have not seen my older half-brother (the one that got his ass kicked) in over 15 years at this writing and would not even know how to find him. I had not seen him before that for probably another 10 years. I will return to the catechism classes for a moment because it forms part of another great realization that came in life: I grew up at a time when it was clear that the best days were behind us. Vatican II had transpired and was being implemented only a few years before my conscious life. Everything was to be watered down. No standards were to be enforced. Learning the real catechism was to give way to…coloring books. When were we going to learn about the mysterious parts of the faith that sounded interesting to me, the little I knew about it? Why were we not learning the faith from priests, brothers and nuns? I found the classes to be so boring because they would dwell on such pedestrian points.

I would have the same sensation in public school. We would spend so much time on a few concepts that I would completely lose interest and sometimes not do as well as I might have. This was particularly true with math and science, which I liked. Other classes like literature or art, I had to work at a little more and perhaps remained more engaged for that reason. If I had to read a story or something all the way through it kept my mind on it. (These sentiments would later drive my interest in home-schooling.) Think about how you may have struggled with some subject because you never had the time to really thoroughly understand it. Or the opposite situation: You were so bored with a topic because it moved so slowly that you gave up on it. All of us have had that experience with different subjects and that is because everybody learns a little differently. Some of the most brilliant people were considered not competent enough to be in school because their minds worked in a ‘slower way’ which would be their way to thoroughly comprehend the subject.

I joined the school band and saw the same thing. We did not strive for excellence. Or maybe it would be better if I said that we did not strive for excellence anymore. Our high school band, sports teams and other organizations had been renowned, even world-renowned in the recent past. But the teachers did not seem to care. Or was it the students and parents that resisted? Anyway, we were just marking time, stagnant.

The life of the community, especially the quality of life of the community, depends on the great upswell of white people continually producing white families. When there is this great upward pressure of white life happening you have drama clubs and junior civil air patrols and boy scout troops and little league and choirs and chess clubs and autobody shop class and 4H and so many other things. (I would later realize how birth control, among other things, is killing our race.) As I look at the remnant of the town I grew up in I see all of the civic organizations dwindling and dying, the quality of activities at the high school diminished, the disappearance of community events such as parades and fairs, closed churches, and so forth. I came into conscious life at a time when these things were all dying and now they are dead. When I grew up we knew every family on our block. Now, I do not want to know anyone on my block. There is no cohesion. There is no sense of belonging. I have no attachment to this town, this county, this state, this country.

That is not to say that there are not white communities with some or even many of the feature of a nice white community. But I cannot afford to live there. I can take you to some affluent areas that are mostly white, have a nice high school and downtown area. But let’s go door to door and take a little survey (if it were possible) and find out what the occupations and incomes of the residents are. Bank vice presidents, doctors, business owners, upper-class, and bourgeoisie. That is not an organic community. This false community is the product of capitalism. And I would hate to live among those people as much as I hate living around blacks.


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