Metropolitan Washington 10/29/22

[White Man 1]

THIS WEEK I visited my old “stomping ground,” the metropolitan Washington, DC area. I last lived in the area in 1991, when I moved to the National Alliance’s White community in the Appalachian Mountains. Today, the metropolitan Washington area has changed so much as to be almost unrecognizable.

When I was seven years old, on November 22, 1963, my family arrived in the Washington area. The great Aryan architecture and public art of the place inspired me from the very beginning. Fifteen years later I became the Chief Engineer of a major radio station in the area, WEAM. Four years after that, after meeting and talking with Dr. William Pierce and several of his associates, I joined the National Alliance. And nine years after that, in 1991, despite much success in broadcasting, I intentionally phased myself out of that field to devote myself full time to the work of the Alliance. I could no longer stand idly by while my nation and my race were being destroyed. I could no longer tolerate selling my life-energy and precious time to Jews and others who were broadcasting lies and degeneracy with my help. No more help for them from me! From that day forward I would devote my life-energies to exposing their crimes — and to strengthening the growing White community of the National Alliance.

For 28 years I lived, went to school, and worked in the DC area, living in or near Alexandria, Virginia. One of the most dramatic things I remember from my early days there was the day in the mid-1960s I stood on a hill overlooking the local middle school, looking across the valley where it sat and seeing the Washington skyline in the far distance. I liked to climb that hill and look toward Washington with binoculars. I could see the WMAL towers, the Washington Monument, and a thin line of buildings to the north. But on that day something was very different. Several dense columns of smoke rose from the city, in an arc from the center of my view and eastwards. At first, living in a time when air raid siren tests were conducted every two weeks, I wondered if we were under Soviet attack, even though the sirens were silent. I learned later that the Blacks in DC were rioting and burning and looting.

Seeing those dark columns rising to the clouds gave me an ominous feeling of dread — a feeling of oncoming doom. It was like a war had begun. After I learned who had actually set fire to the city, I felt I had been witnessing the beginning of a war — witnessing the beginning of the end of something great, something of which I was a part, something that I could not yet put into words. And indeed it was the end, the end of the Old America, the end of White America. The Blacks were rioting, and shortly thereafter were given everything they wanted — and, even then, it was virtually a requirement that we stop talking about their violence and only talk about their “needs.”

When my family first arrived in suburban Washington in 1963, we lived in a nice brick row-house on Keller Avenue in the Bradlee neighborhood of Alexandria. Nearly all the children there, even those who lived more than a mile away, walked by themselves to the local elementary school. Even though this was after the Washington regime had forced racial “integration” on the state, you could count the non-Whites at the school on the fingers of one hand. The student body was almost entirely White. I don’t believe I ever once saw a non-White child in the Bradlee neighborhood (though there were Black neighborhoods elsewhere in the city, Whites were an overwhelming majority and the races mostly and naturally kept to themselves).

And my neighborhood was filled with a vital, alive, and burgeoning population of White families with White children! Every day when there was good weather after school let out, my classmates were everywhere — walking on the street, going to see their friends, playing catch or croquet in the yard, playing baseball on the nearby diamonds, roller skating on the sidewalks, swinging and climbing in the many playgrounds that had been built in the grassy areas between the back yards of the row houses, walking unaccompanied to the local stores (something that never happens anymore), riding their bicycles, flying kites and model planes, and much more. In the early 1960s, driving from the neighborhood’s entrance on King Street the several blocks to our house, you would see literally hundreds of White children.

This week, when I drove the same path at the appropriate time on a balmy October day, I saw no children at all. Fewer than half of the people I did see there were White. And the Whites I saw were mostly elderly, and the younger Whites had zero children in evidence. Overall, in such a crowded, overpopulated area — the population density is much higher than when I lived there — the streets, which were thronged with playing children in 1965, seemed eerily deserted. The few White children that probably still live there are presumably not allowed to play outside in this far more dangerous time. Most are likely staring at screens, being propagandized to hate themselves and their heritage — after getting a big dose of the same propaganda earlier in the day at the public schools.

I walked and drove around the area, visiting some stores. Racially-mixed couples were common, as well as mixed-race children. Whites were in a distinct minority, with Blacks, Mestizos, Asians, Indians, and unclassifiable racial mixes probably from west Asia and the Middle East everywhere you looked. Good luck being served by a White person in the grocery store or any other business for that matter! In the local hospital, Blacks seemed to occupy nearly every single low and mid-level position, with the upper-level positions occupied mostly by Whites with a few other non-Blacks. (I wonder how many local people draw the correct conclusions from that.)

By the way, don’t believe the online demographic figures you see, estimating that Alexandria is still almost 60 per cent. White. Under the category “White,” they are usually including Arabs, Jews, other Middle Easterners, West Asians, and the burgeoning Mestizo and semi-Afro-Mestizo populations from Mexico, Central America, and the Dominican Republic. Ridiculous and misleading! The real White European population is far, far lower. All this ethnic cleansing and dispossession, soon to be complete, in just a part of my lifetime.

And the crowding and over-development are intense, funded no doubt by the giant money spigot that is Occupied Washington. Most of the green spaces are gone in the DC suburbs of northern Virginia. High-rise and “low income” apartments crowd each other off the pavement. Shopping strips after shopping strips line the bigger roads, sometimes stretching from horizon to horizon. It’s mostly big chain stores owned by Jews and other Wall Street types; small businesses are in the distinct minority. The roads are maddening places to be, so crowded as to be almost unusable at times, with “rush hour” never really ending. In what used to be very, very nice middle class White neighborhoods, with lots of treed space between the houses, you now see prosperous Asians and Caribbean types and Mestizos moving in, flush with cash. They’ve obviously changed the zoning laws which used to keep a decent distance between houses, and tasteless, garish McMansions with oddly-shaped windows and architecturally inappropriate columns and porticos now are bunched together with just a strip of grass or concrete separating them.

Non-Whites who think they are impressing the neighbors and aping traditional White architecture, but who can’t afford the big McMansions, just add wildly outsized columns and pediments and big arched windows to older homes. It’s hard to say which approach is uglier.

Oh, and to remind them of home, some of the newly-rich Mestizos and afro-Mestizos are planting palm trees which they hope will survive the Middle Atlantic winter.

In the midst of all this, after driving for more than an hour, at a street crossing separating a massive Petco from some equally huge junk emporia on the other side of Columbia Pike, I saw my first White couple with a White child — one White child, a daughter. They had to run across the street to make it. They picked their toddler daughter up temporarily, as they ran, because the traffic was so intense — even at 7 pm — that they couldn’t make it with her walking or being strolled in her baby carriage. What kind of place to grow up is this hellscape for her?

While I was in the area, I had to drive through DC — four times. The traffic was even worse there, with frozen traffic, barely moving, that sometimes added almost an hour to what should have been a 20-minute trip. Despite all the talk about “gentrification,” many sections are still filled with boarded-up, decrepit and abandoned buildings where the lights nevertheless glow at night to illuminate things you probably don’t want to know about, where the trash-blown sidewalks are crowded with Black males who know exactly where the slow traffic is and gesticulate at helpless stalled commuters, walking from car to car trying to make eye contact and panhandle, hoping you’ll roll down your window; where police are everywhere, sirens blaring, trying to keep a lid on the worst crimes, probably, but looking the other way most of the time.

Traveling south on North Capitol Street, seeing all this, I could also see, glowing with a faintly blue light in the distance, the ostensible seat of power of this country, the Capitol building, in the Africanized capital of a Jew-ruled failing state. A state that has made my old home into a place unfit to raise a White family — where, in fact, fewer and fewer White families are being raised. I saw almost none among the throngs that surrounded me.

How long will it be before this capital city is renamed? — since President George Washington was, after all, the man who, in 1790, signed the law making it illegal for non-Whites to become citizens of the United States. Perhaps there will be no need to rename it, since, as the nation declines into barbarism and savagery, the name “Washington” will simply be forgotten and replaced by the Black “Ebonics” expression “De Disrick” — meaning “The District,” the District of Columbia — DC. And the renaming — will it happen before, or after, the last White woman is raped and the last White child is slaughtered here?

Washington, and its surrounding suburbs, despite the constant infusion of money and blatant opportunistic careerism and commercialism that makes some fortunes for a certain kind of person, is in severe decline. It is dying — it is almost dead. It is now in a state of total disconnect from, and hatred for, the people who founded it, which the Regime now wants to exterminate.

That’s you.

That’s your wife and children.

That’s your parents, cousins, aunts, and uncles.

That’s all the yet unborn children and grandchildren of our race.

That’s all the love and beauty and greatness that those children and grandchildren could create.

That’s what they want to kill.

They’ve halfway killed us already.

The National Alliance is determined that they shall fail in their evil mission.

The National Alliance is determined that a new White nation shall be born — and that we’ll do it right this time. Washington turned to De Disrick in just 200 years. We are determined that Pierce City will still be Pierce City 200,000 years from now — and that new and even greater White-forever cities will be founded beyond the bounds of Earth one day.

Agreeing with us silently isn’t enough. Chattering online isn’t enough. Videos and posters and articles without National Alliance links, without the National Alliance address and imprimatur, are not enough. Anything that fails to build the Alliance is not enough. Join our ranks and put your shoulders to the wheel, with more dedication and determination and sacrifice and perseverance than you’ve ever known before.

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[White_Vengeance]

White Man 1, what is meant by the designation "20/29/22" in the title of your Thread? Is that some mystic, far-off date on which Washington, D.C. will be unofficially/officially ceded to the negroes? Your post is excellent: well-written, factual, and heart-wrenching and gut-twisting. I was born and raised, and spent a fair portion of my life, on the South Side of Chicago, Illinois--"The Murder Capital of America"--so I feel your pain and empathize with the feelings of desolation and despair you experience upon revisiting the city in which you spent so much of your life.

I have written some fairly similar posts about the loss I feel when thinking about my youth and boyhood on the South Side of Chicago, Illinois--a large historical geographical tract in the city of Chicago that, just a few decades ago, was home to countless White European enclaves, each retaining its European charm and culture while still proudly boasting of being thoroughly assimilated into the American way of life.

I know I'll sound cynical but the major cities in America have all-but-been-given-up to the hood-rat, ghetto-rat negroes; there is so little remaining that I don't believe that most are salvageable. Perhaps at some later date, when we proud White warriors have emerged victorious over our enemies and are living in our clean, healthy, safe, racially-advanced White Living Spaces we can eventually turn our efforts toward rebuilding our major cities. I believe that is what our White European ancestors and forefathers would have done; they never let a challenge defeat them, nor should we. Thanks for an outstanding, if a bit tear-jerking, post.

[White Man 1]

Good catch, WV. It was supposed to be 10/29, I've corrected it to match the date of Mr Strom's broadcast