The Black History Report

Dear Family and Friends,

So far I’ve invested about 12 hours in video time, 10 hours of research and about $1,200 in money for Black history month and it’s been a sad, but revealing situation. None of the videos seem to be getting any views and we lost a member of the black history team. After seeing black historians die daily I’m starting to believe that either we African Americans don’t care or we’re just ignorant of our own history. I actually thought about going into deep Chicago where Fred Hampton died just to see if it would at least attract people with ADHD. This is all while my friend Ms. Jennings is still trying to revive her business dreams and Ms. White is still trying to pay her rent. I’ve claimed no political affiliation and at the moment belong to no denomination but I’ve always supported people who believe in God and this has been rough. I’ve spent so much time on research this month while being in front of a computer screen that my eyes and face feel numb. I’ve just about memorized every black historical figure and no one seems to care. I’ve received only one sponsorship and the lady that sponsored is just an angel investor that thinks I’m a nice guy for not killing or drugging people at blues parties. So two weeks into black history month I would like to be honest. Maybe I’ll go to church dressed in a rainbow suit with an Afro the size of Jesus’s just to feel some love. I think I’ve over done it, honestly, I’ve been at it so hard that I could’ve sworn when I went to Maryland that I saw Frederick Douglas and Harriet Tubman waiving at me on the side of the Ocean City bridge. As I close, honestly, I’ve had fun and I’m thankful for the people who did participate in our Black History project this year. I’ll keep you posted on the second half of this year’s Black History project, but like my dad told me kindly, he said, “Brian, they just don’t care,” then he stopped answering my calls.

Rest in peace Jesse, tell Martin and the rest of the lost tribes that I said hello. I’m enjoying learning and taking a deep dive into African American history month. As a man who loves to learn, politicians please keep this month alive. I knew the historians were serious when they took a black slave cabin and put it in a portion of the Freedom Center in Cincinnati Ohio.

Sincerely,

Brian K. West

Goodbye President’s Day

I learned a lot today.

I learned that no matter who’s in office, I still have to work, even if I were to be President.

I learned that my sister probably will never forgive her father who raised me as if I were his own and just like most girls if he were to die she would probably cry alone. The funny thing is that even if he were President she probably still wouldn’t forgive him, honestly she’d probably write a tell all book about him just to kill his political career.

I also learned that as a veteran we find ourselves stuck in an endless cycle of reality that we probably couldn’t escape even if we ourselves were to run for a political office and many of us probably would suffer more if we were to become President. Love for country and fighting for freedom involves a sacrifice that many would rather run from.

I also learned that those desiring to become citizens have four sides. One that knows suffering, one that knows quality, one that wants freedom, and one that is clueless. Sadly, with the stroke of the pen the President has to decide which one he wants to keep in his country at the cost of the tax payer and if he doesn’t keep his word it gets nasty.

I also learned that as a business owner— leadership is a lonely game and at times you don’t know what to feel. Sadly, when you make conscience decisions you get burned and it turns you into a monster that trust no one. You read the Bible over and over again comprehending that Moses may have served one God and the people that he lead may not have had the same God as Moses. In this, you find a little Owl sitting on dollar bills counting pennies comprehending why the founding fathers put in God we trust in their founding creed. I’m assuming the first President voted for this phrase because he may have needed an insurance policy out of this world.

The last thing I learned about as I say goodbye to President’s day is that being an African American is confusing, especially when you know the history. Sadly, since it is black history month and most of the people that I grew up with are either dead, on drugs or in prison, when I hear a speech about a glorious world I get nervous. Honestly, I don’t trust either party, and if they showed up asking for my vote I probably would put a picture of Ben Carson in my window and say he’s my President as I watch them give me a look as if I’ve had brain surgery on a sunny day in a hospital with no air conditioning. As I look in the mirror I’ve come to accept that we Americans love crazy ruthless presidents who make deals while staying warm with our tax dollars as we try and figure it all out. Dollars that many save because we feel that we’ll escape the pit of poverty which in reality is inevitable as long as the preacher keeps telling us we’re all going to hell if we don’t give it to him.

In the end, I guess that’s why a politician okayed the crucifixion of Christ.

I guess wisdom does come with in God we trust.

Goodbye President’s Day.

Purple Hearts

 I write this in the wee hours of the night, afraid, but brave. Shivering in the cold of a concentration camp. I tell you P.O.W. that I am not smart, but I feel  a force. I cannot forget. I feel a force guiding my hands to write this so in the heat of battle, you too will be brave. To the slaves that I freed and took a bullet for, I say live free or die a slave. I tell you friend, I feel a divine force guiding me. A divine force that is good. I am not what I appear, but to become a hero, I somehow get my strength from good will. I cannot give up, I have to keep fighting and when my heart is broken and I feel weak, I know that my strength has to come from God for the good of all mankind. When asked how did I save so many men and women in the heat of battle with nothing in return, I will say because I have a heart. A Purple Heart made of Purple Gold, carrying as many people to safety as I can. Live free or die a slave, that phrase I must never forget for my love is superior to all. It’s special… it’s divine…

Purple Hearts 💜 

The Love Story

 “It’s me, Frank, and I’ve been married for five years, but this isn’t your typical love story. This story ends in horror because my wife was in love with someone else the entire time we were married. So this is how my love story goes.”

It was getting late and Frank had just closed a deal that would have made he and his wife millionaires. He’d decided to surprise her late to not only tell her the good news but bask in their love and new found success. Frank took an early flight home, but when he arrived he noticed someone’s car in his spot. This made him nervous as he could feel his heart racing so he decided to park on the street. Easing up to the front door he quietly entered the house. His gut instincts kept telling him that something wasn’t right so he grabbed one of his guns from underneath the couch. Creeping up the stairs he couldn’t help but notice that the entire time that he’d been married, apparently his wife was an undercover player. It was a big house but you could hear Red Kelly’s R&B hits playing down the hall. It was clear that his wife was having an affair with someone else in Frank’s house on their bed. Frank could feel his adrenaline pumping as he burst into the room, and there she was, his wife, his everything being hammered by his cousin. This is where things get interesting because at the moment Frank was about to unload his ammunition, the gun jammed and both his wife and cousin jumped out of the window. Broken and devastated, Frank fell to his knees and crouched over against the wall as Red Kelly’s R&B hits played over and over again. At this moment his life would never be the same. He was humiliated and news spread fast. This was the worst Valentine’s Day of Frank’s life.

He filed for divorce and in the end turned into a workaholic never to marry again. 

It was clear that Frank’s new love was work. 

His wife broke his heart, but Frank’s life could have been even worse if the gun hadn’t jammed. What were the odds? 

The Love Story

The New Simple Life of King Moose

 “Hey, King Moose. I’m just down the road,” John said.

“King Moose?” Moose replied.

“Yeah, that’s what my wife calls you. So what brings you out here with us Amish folks?”

“Well, I just need the work. You guys pay well, it’s peaceful. I needed a break from city life,” Moose says while shifting into drive.

He and John head down the road.

“You got any family?” John asked.

Moose hit his turn signal, “I do, but it’s not like it used to be,” he replied.

“Here’s my stop right here. Hey, here’s an extra fifty bucks. Thanks.” 

John proceeded out of the van as Moose headed to his next pickup. This was his new life. He’d been divorced, jobless, and felt the pain of losing close relatives. He’d just about seen it all, but for some reason working for the Amish gave him a new life.

Their world seemed simple, structured, totally opposite from city life. 

Reaching his next stop with his jolly old smile he noticed that it was February, his son’s birthday was this month. Images of his son slowly went through his mind, maybe he’d give him a call later. His new life was now simple. He was now just a driver for the Amish. This was his new kingdom and these were his people. Seeing the way they treated him and how they enjoyed hearing about his old life in the city, he’d developed a soft spot for these people. This was his new home. Sitting in his van after his last stop he reached into his bag and began to eat his lunch. I guess you never know where the winding road of your life will lead and everyday is a new chapter. Moose’s life in the city faded away everyday he spent with the Amish. He even taught them how to throw a football. Parked on the side of the road he looked around and couldn’t believe how peaceful it was. 

“King Moose,” he said to himself with a small chuckle. He then drank the rest of his lemonade and drove off into the sunset.

The New Simple Life of King Moose.

Snow Love

Today I built a snowman with the snow that was left over. After witnessing my masterpiece, I then snapped a picture and sent it to the kids to remind them to find happiness in the snow. 

I shared my snow love.

The Noose

I want to warn you that this piece is graphic for a good reason.

Sadly, we must never forget a very very dark time in history. A time when there were no record deals, no shoe deals, no entertainment deals, no book deals, no freedom and most of all no justice. This Black History month on the first day we remember the darkest execution method known at that time when an owned slave was hung. No black on black crime, just the property of the master. To reflect, the reality is that you died from being hung with a noose. 

The loophole is where the head entered creating a yanking position around the neck and the long part of the rope was then tied to a sturdy piece of level surface. The rope tightens at the looped part cutting off circulation to the brain. At this point gravity pulls the body to its end.

To die in this form is a symbol of how brutal life can be when a person literally doesn’t matter or feels so isolated that they choose this method to die. Sadly, in the past, people who were brutally beaten into submission were hung just for being Black. This stain in history has led us to present day forming a hard historical memory that many would rather forget. Sadly, there was not much mercy in the past, many victims never saw or understood freedom. In present time many have not forgotten and in present day the rage has created an evil that is a symptom of hate that will probably never go away. 

The Noose