I had no words to offer in comfort for the loss of your boy. I could only suggest what worked for me in times of stress. I go to ground, in a manner of speaking.

My own children are all still with us. My first born, a son, was a world class athlete.

After some problems with the money and sponsors he straightened up and has become successful. My daughter got tied up in drugs and other crap, but pulled herself out and has seemingly made a comeback. My adopted son is for all purposes a decent young man, but he is a troubled sort.

He came into my life in my second marriage at nearly six years old. His critical formative years before our relationship. His mother had serious issues as an adult and the boy was the product of a high school fling. His father never had any interest in even knowing the boy. He began to exhibit problems in his early teens and has never been able to achieve peace with himself or his life into adulthood. Hell, he is in his late forties at this point and we don’t talk much.

As for myself, now there is a story with some age and wrinkles on it’s face to the world.

I am a fourth generation Hungarian American kid born in the fifties. I was birthed in an Army hospital, the son of an Airborne Ranger serving in Korea. My grandad served in Europe during world war two, France and Germany, so he was “in the shit” … I am a SOPS vet from the ‘Nam conflict. So I come from a long line of warrior types. A long line of men loyal to country.

My grandparents harbored refugees here in the states from the commie occupation of Hungary.

I know how nations come to fall. I also know the pride of a citizen in a “free” country and the value of that privilege. I can add to that by being raised in the same neighborhood as my grand parents and parents. I lived through the infamous Collinwood Riots of the sixties in Cleveland, Ohio. I watched as an adolescent during curfew under martial law, as Jeeps with machine guns on the back, patrolled my turf at night. I witnessed first hand as my neighborhood, the neighborhood of my family for three generations before me, became a ghetto hell hole.

I LIVED THIS SHIT !!! This is burned in my memory on the streets of my youth. Hard to forget …

I am currently watching what I believe to be the failing of my entire country at this point.

We are hopelessly lead by incompetent “political hookers”, bent on taking this nation to ruins. I have read your words, along with the words of Justin Smith, Neal Ross and others. I have read these words and I have been moved by them. I have been moved to add thoughts of my own to the archives among you. I have a great many more thoughts I could add, but I have to wonder, who will read them? Who might heed them?

I have seen you on the brink, I have seen Neal on the brink, it all seems so futile. The small voices off in the wilderness falling on the deaf ears of lunatics. The words are not enough. The words are the cards in the hand of our enemy. The words are what they are using to beat us. Words are what they use to distract us while we kill each other in the street as the neighborhoods are burning. Words are the way they confuse us with their lies as they plot to eradicate us with their designer illnesses. They hold the winning hand with their words. Their words are everywhere. Our words don’t have the reach. Our words are now even dismissed as extremist racist ramblings.

My god, they have dismissed and censored the words of a duly elected president of the country.

In all good reason I have to conclude that the words, however true, however eloquently spoken, are not nearly enough. No one is held to account, no one is punished for their actions. The words are just not enough. The words are not getting the job done. The words are not solving the problems or curing the sickness that is killing a nation. Just as it was when the words were not enough at the time to convince a tyrant king.

Actions speak louder than words. It took decisive action to found this nation based on words to define it. It has required decisive action to defend and protect that nation as defined by those words. We are beyond the point at which more words can repair or save this situation. I believe that with all my heart. I am at a point where my words might only serve to get me negative attention from those I consider to be my enemies. Attention that frankly none of us need from these sick bastards. I would sooner go underground, work under the radar to take actions against them. I think that may be a better course for me at this point. Hopefully I can avoid becoming a news of the day headline topic in the process.

Larry Cooper