George Lincoln Rockwell's HATE HOUSE
in Arlington VA. Right after his assassination, injun Dan Rather showed
up with his TV camera carrying flunky. We had them running up and down
the hill trying to find Rockwell's nonexistent son. Great fun. But that's
what hate is about anyway.
A group of my friends at a HATE RALLY. Notice the evil and sullen looks
on the faces of these European type racists. The girl on the right was
the target of a Sambo's interest but the fellow on the left reeducated
him along safer lines. The woman on the left loved to discuss philosophical
matters and therefore became my steady dinner companion.
Another happy photo of my hate monger friends.
Andy, on the right, suffered a broken back years ago which added to his
waist. He loved to play games of 'chicken' and that was the time he lost.
This was before crash helmets, padded enclosures, rescue teams, safety
belts, and the mandatory baby bottle full of spring water strapped on your
back and an 'energy bar' stuffed into a convenient place. If my arms were
longer, I could have been the picture.
This is my lifelong girlfriend's house in Florida. If you strain your
eyes, you can see a bit of her 1953 Corvette which she still owns plus
a 1955 Ford Thunderbird. That's my Cougar in the driveway – one of the
most comfortable cars I've ever driven. Laurie and I go back to our teen
years and I make it a point to visit her as often as I can. Women like
her are about as common as snow in Texas. I have been fortunate to have
known many trustworthy people – friends in the truest sense of the word.
This is Laurie watering some of
her plants. As you can see, she is interesting to watch whether cooking,
ironing, swimming or taking a shower. Her violet eyes are something one
does not forget easily. She is very witty, extremely pleasant to talk and
be with, plus having many other uplifting talents and attributes.
This was my favorite room. The pool is off to the right. Here you see an
ironing board. Laurie loved to make sure my clothes were properly pressed.
She was a great lover of ceramics. The lion on the table cost her $600
but money is made to be spent since it helps the other fellow earn a living.
was where I spent much time. Laurie had a pet ocelot (Leopardus pardalis)
which loved to sink its teeth into my leg. I often escaped this critter
by diving into this pool. After the third attack, I told her if that fool
cat bit me once more, I'd have it for supper. She politely put the thing
into a cage. Laurie had a few house rules one of which was that no shoes
were allowed on her carpets. Another was that no suits were to be worn
in the pool. As I never saw any 'minority' in her house or pool, I assumed
that she was a hate filled racist. That didn't scare me as I slept well
even though the bedroom door was always open. I never did figure out where
that wild cat slept.