Mr. Lee |
MR. LEE SAT IN THE BACK OF THE CLASSROOM which he had attended as a child. But the class is much different today from what it was then.
Even as a child he was proud of his name, because he was descended from the great Southern general who had fought valiantly to protect his land from northern aggression. In school the teachers had vainly attempted to crush his family pride, telling him that the "Rebels" were evil racists. But Mr. Lee had known better even then.
This morning the class was discussing their field trip to Washington DC, while it was fresh in all of their minds. Mr. Lee had gone along on the trip, to assist the teacher. Throughout the process, he had repeatedly thought back to his first trip to DC, way back in the year 2000. The difference between then and now was astounding! Thank goodness his grandson, who sat in the front row, would never see anything like the horror that existed before. Not in this country, ever again.
The teacher said, " Tommy, what did you like best about our nation's capital?"
"Oh wow, Miss Maxwell," he said with eyes that opened wide, surrounding the blue centers with lots of white. "I think the Presidential Mansion was really cool!"
Mr. Lee thought back to the old White House, that had been burned during the War of Restoration. It had been a beautiful building, but its occupants had not had characters to match that beauty. The very name, "President" had become a joke in his youth.
"They used a German Medieval castle as the model for the mansion," said Miss Maxwell. "They felt that it presented the feelings that the Restoration embodied. It reminded them of where our people came from, and that we must always be ready to fight for our survival as a people."
"Miss Maxwell," said Sally, as she raised her hand. "May I tell what I liked the best?"
"Why, of course Sally, " replied the teacher.
Mr. Lee smiled to see the childish enthusiasm this little redheaded girl displayed so freely. He knew her green eyes would be flashing, even though he could not see them from where he was sitting.
"I liked the Heroes' Row!" she said. "All of the statues of our heroes like George Washington, Robert E. Lee, and William Pierce, were really neat!"
Mr. Lee was suddenly reminded of the great struggles that took place in his childhood. There were forces that were trying to remove all remembrance of people like his great ancestor from American's minds. They tried to obliterate the Confederate flag from all memory. They even tried to eliminate the name of George Washington!
"I liked the bus driver," yelled out Tommy, the freckled-faced blond boy in the back row.
"Now, let's raise our hands Tommy," chided the teacher gently. "What did you like about the driver?"
"He was round and cheery. And his cheeks were all pink when he laughed. He told us some really neat stories about the 'little people' back in Ireland."
O'Leary was his name, recalled Mr. Lee. He was a fine jolly man. When last he had gone to Washington DC, such a man could not have been driving a bus. The drivers were nearly all dark skinned, and after dealing with the rabble who rode the buses, the drivers were solemn and grim.
Tina stuck up her hand, and the teacher acknowledged her.
"I liked how clean everything was! The streets were clean, and the building looked brand new. Even when we drove through the housing areas it was spotless!"
"Why does that surprise you Tina?" asked the teacher. "Here in Atlanta, it is just the same. Go through any city in America and you will see clean and safe streets."
"I read a book about Washington DC, and it told about how it looked before the Restoration," she said with eyes that were very serious. Her brown locks fell over her pale cheeks, and bounced as she spoke. "It even showed pictures! They had people with really dark skin, 'Black' is what they called them, who ran around with spay paint and painted the walls with graphs."
"Graffiti," correct the teacher.
"Yes, graffiti, " continued Tina as serious as ever. "The streets were dirty and bad things happened to people who went out at night. It was a very bad place."
Mr. Lee could remember those days as if they were just yesterday. The Restoration had been painful, and bloody, but it was worth every drop of blood that was spilt. His father had died leading a charge against an enemy stronghold, and he himself, though he was just a child, had been forced to defend his mother from a dark man who had tried to attack her. But seeing the bright world these wonderful children now lived in, made it all worth it. No price was too high to pay for this. Oh yes, Washington DC had been a dark and terrible place, but now, like the rest of America it was restored to sanity.
" Miss Maxwell," said a toe-headed boy in the front row. Mr. Lee felt a wash of warm joy flow over him as only could be produced by his grandson.
"Yes Robert?" asked the teacher.
"I just wanted to say that my favorite thing that I saw in Washington was the European Memorial. It was such a big and beautiful building and it had some really neat exhibits in it!"
"Oh, I liked that one too!" cried Jane.
"Me too!" chorused several of the other children.
Mr. Lee, couldn't say why but he felt like his eyes were going to moisten upon his hearing this. Perhaps it was because when he was the age of these children, European pride was considered dirty and evil. He was not allowed to sing the praises of his people, even thought they had created America. To see these wonderful White children all aglow with joy and pride in who they are and where they came from was a very emotional experience for him.
""I liked the William Wallace Exhibit!" said Robert. "He was a great man, like the heroes on the Heroes' Row."
"I just loved the Sir Isaac Newton display," cried Sally.
"I liked the Vikings!" said George, a large boned, blond boy who no doubt was descended from Viking stock himself.
As the children happily discussed their trip Mr. Lee followed his thoughts back through the terrible war-torn years to the days before. His mind could not comfortably dwell there for long. His people had been sick then. They were oppressed. They were on the verge of extermination. They were addicted to the propaganda device know as "the television," which they could not give up, even though it was destroying them. If it had not been for the sudden rise of the Internet, the United States of America would be a living hell today. It was The Awakening that had saved us. The only thing powerful enough to overcome the television propaganda machine was the Internet, and it did! It fuelled the Awakening which ignited the War of Restoration, which restored America to the European stock who created her.
He shivered whenever he thought about how close his people came to losing everything. It was like a man who had been walking in the fog, turning and seeing that the wind had blown the fog away, showing that he had just missed falling into a well, or over a cliff. It could have happened. America could have been totally lost to the pre-Restoration invasion.
But never again! The Restoration had done more than just purge the land of the non-European peoples. It purged the American minds of the distorted propaganda they had been exposed to for so long. Now they know that diversity is death, and it will never again be tolerated.
"Miss Maxwell?" asked George, as raised his hand.
"Yes George?" replied the teacher.
"What happened to all of those dark skinned people who used to live in America before the Restoration?"
"Well, the war took its toll on them, as well as on us," she answered. "Maybe 10% of them died in the fighting and in the months afterwards, due to disease and lack of food. The rest of them were sent home, to where they, or their ancestors came from.
"The Mexicans and South Americans were sent south to their homelands. The Asians were transported back to Asia, where China and Japan assisted in settling them."
"The Africans were the group which required the most effort on our part to place. We finally made arrangements to put them in South Africa, and we in turn accepted all the Europeans from that land at the same time."
"That's when my grandma came to America," cried out a little girl on the right.
"We sent along a great deal of food and equipment, and we helped them build housing and industry before we turned them loose on their own."
"What happened to them then?" asked Robert.
"It was a great deal like the story of Haiti. For a while it looked like they might do pretty well. They had money, mines, and industry, but over the years each of these things failed. They gradually slid back into the same style of life as the rest of the Dark Continent lives in. There are some pockets of what we would call civilization left there, but they are dying."
"Why don't they live like we do?" asked Tommy.
"The answer to that question is one that our ancestors had trouble understanding," replied Miss Maxwell. "The truth is, that they don't live like us, because they are not like us. Each race of people is different than the other races. It has its own strengths and its own weaknesses. It tends towards different activities and focuses on different things. That is why diversity was so terrible and why it hurt us so badly, by pulling us in many directions at once.
"The other people on planet earth are not bad people," she continued. "They are merely different people. That is why they must live in their lands, and we must live in our lands, so all people can search out their own destiny, without interference from other people. The Black people can now have their own Black society, which promotes what the Black race most values. The Yellow people have their own lands where they can share a society that promotes their most treasured values.
"And we, the White people of earth can have our own lands, where our society can reflect our most cherished values. Each people, with its own space, its own land, and its own society. It is the only sensible way for mankind to live. It is so sad that it took us so long to finally figure this out. But thank goodness we finally did!"
Mr. Lee heard a noise behind him, as he stood to applaud what the teacher had said. He turned, and there standing behind him was a man in a gray Uniform. He stood tall and proud, and his hair that once had matched his uniform, was now returned to its young and natural color. "Ahem!" he coughed.
"I was just checking on the boy General," Mr. Lee said as they walked through the wall together. "He sure is a fine addition to the family!"
Who Rules America