[Rounder]

Originally Posted by Live Free

I don't know if the Genealogy sub-forum is the right place for this post, but it does concern a couple of my Southern Ancestors. These stories have been handed down in my family as true. There's more. Take them for what you will.

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One of my Confederate ancestors was a surgeon in The War. After Lee's surrender he walked back home to southwest Georgia from northern Virginia just like most of the rest of the tattered men in gray got back home. He was looking forward to hearth and home, family and friends, and re-establishing his practice.

When he arrived in southwest Georgia, he naturally went to his home place. There, he found that his mother had died several months before, his little brother had been killed by yankee outriders, and that niggers were living in his family's home. The yankee occupation troops and the Freedman's Bureau had given a group of eleven freed slaves his home because of his family's dedication to the Cause and because of his own service. The niggers ran him off his own dirt. The dirt his father farmed. The dirt that his family cemetery was in. Where he'd grown from boy to man. Where he'd sent his mind's eye those long nights of War. Where niggers now pissed in the sacred soil of his home.

Well, he went on into town and starting out of a friend's shed and old smokehouse for home and headquarters, he rebuilt his life and practice. He joined the earliest Klavern in that area at first opportunity and was, shall we say, very active in it. He eventually purchased his friend's home, along with the shed and smoke house, when his friend moved to Florida.

It was only after my ancestor died many years later that his secret was revealed.

The new owner of the house was having the shed and smokehouse torn down. When they pulled the door to the smokehouse open they found the left foot from eleven different niggers nailed to the inside of the door. It was shown that every one of the eleven niggers who'd taken over his family home and ran him off his own dirt had been murdered and each of their left feet removed.

My Uncle ****, the surgeon's grandnephew, told me when I was a young man, that my ancestor's Klavern members of the inner circle always greeted each other with a handshake, and as they talked they would tap their own left foot with their cane to show honor to the old surgeon.

It was my Uncle **** himself that told me that in the late '60s it had gotten to where there were more agent provocateurs and stoolies in the local chapter than true hearted Klansmen. He told me that if I had to do something, do it myself, and don't tell anyone.

By the way, until our people rediscover what was in that surgeon's heart, we won't win.

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Until the zoglodyte government tied our hands, a prominent characteristic of the Southern civilization was our tendency to self police our communities. We never needed government to keep the public order. That policing was not only aimed at keeping criminals in check, but it also enforced societal norms.

It was at some time in the middle 1920's. Word came to the community that there was a White woman who worked at a local eatery that was screwing a nigger. Now, back in the day when there was some wet work that needed doing the fellows from, say, Dothan, AL would come over to Bainbridge, GA to take care of business. Of course, the fellows from Bainbridge would return the favor as needed. In this case though, my Cousin ** said he'd take care of it since the nigger concerned worked for him.

At a time that Cousin ** knew the nigger would be home he drove over to where the nigger lived. Cousin ** parked his truck, got out, and walked up onto the porch with his shotgun held at the ready. He couldn't see inside as it was winter and the windows were shuttered. (These houses didn't have glass windows. During the summer they were just open to the world and during the winter covered with a wooden shutter.) Cousin ** stood to the side of the front door.

He reached out with his arm and knocked on the door. He called out the nigger's name. The nigger yelled back wanting to know what Cousin ** wanted. Cousin ** said he wanted to take care of business concerning him and a White woman. Then, Cousin ** reached back out and struck the door hard with his fist and quickly drew it back just as a shotgun blast blew a gaping hole in the door. Cousin ** raised his own gun and shot, further splintering the door.

As soon as Cousin ** shot he could hear the nigger take off running through the house. Anticipating this he was already underway. Cousin ** rounded the corner of the house just as the nigger cleared the porch. Cousin ** took him full in the chest with a 12 ga. load of '00' buckshot.

The nigger had been trying to open the breech on his single barrel shotgun to load another round when the blast from Cousin **'s gun hit him. I guess two barrels are better than one!

I don't know what happened to the White woman, but I heard she finished her career still working at an eatery: feeding catfish in the Flint River I believe they said.

That was mighty entertaining reading, Live Free. Thanks for sharing it.

My aunt Lucy (Lucy Council Allen) gave me her old KKK membership card just before she died at 84 in 2004. She'd been a dues paying member for something like 40 years. When klansmen went around collecting dues, they perforated holes into the card to show dues had been paid for that particular month.

My uncle Swanee (Swanee Noah Council) killed 4-5 uppity niggers back in the 30s and 40s, according to my uncle Joseph Edward Allen. Then when Swanee got old and his mind went back, they came and got him at night and put him to bed in Dorthy Dix Mental Hospital in 1967. Next morning uncle Swanee awoke to find a nigger asleep in the next bed. At which time, uncle Swanee commenced to beat the nigger to death with his walking cane, thoroughly outraged to find out he'd slept in the same room with a nigger for the 1st time in his life.

My mother was a switch board operator at that hospital at the time and begged me: "Son, don't you dare ever tell anybody that Swanee was kin to us." (Course, I bragged it to everybody)

1st cousin Janey Mae Honeycutt, shot two niggers in 1974 after she'd entered the back door of her and her husband's grocery store in east Raleigh, NC, and saw the niggers in the act of robbing her husband at gunpoint. Reached in her purse, got her pistol, and unloaded all 6 shots on the niggers, she did, and ran them off. Both niggers lived but were quickly arrested. Front page news at the time.

Btw, we all especially enjoyed "11 niggers feet" hanging in the smoke house. Too bad somebody didn't take a photo, eh ??

Happy days will return again one of these days.

PS: Awhile back, they found the bodies of 25 niggers wrapped in logging chains at the bottom of a Georgia river, while searching for missing civil rights workers. The sheriff said it was the worse case of suicide he'd ever seen. He he he.