There’s No Place Like Home
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Note: This is a long post, and might be a little controversial depending on where you're from. So if you're easily offended, you might wanna skip this one. But if you're game and can handle it, read on. :)
It's Sunday, and since it's a slow day I thought I'd do a life post. The place where I was born was a peaceful little town where the population peaked in the 1950s before beginning a steady decline as industry left town and moved overseas. The loss of manufacturing to first Mexico, and then China, resulted in a mass exodus of middle-class earners throughout the rust-belt states, and Pennsylvania was no different from the others.
My Little Town
However, the one thing I was proud of was the overall decency of the local people in this part of the Keystone state. There was very little crime while I was growing up. You'd have the odd pilfering from grocery stores, some bar-fights and the very odd murder, but in general this was a very safe place to raise a family.
I thought nothing of going for a walk as a young boy late at night and never worried about being abducted or robbed. That sort of thing happened in Philadelphia, and thank the Lord, we were far enough away from that hellhole. My uncle lived in Philly and as a boy, I felt sorry for him when he'd tell us about the constant fear they felt whenever they left the house. They lived on Lebanon Avenue near Fairmount Park. It looked almost like the suburbs, it was a nice house, but wasn't a safe place to live.
When we spent the night at my grandmothers house, it wasn't unusual for her to leave the front door open all night long with just the outside screen door closed but unlocked. No one ever bothered anyone, and some people would leave their door wide open as they slept on the couch at night in the living room, again, with no problem.
The sounds of polka music filtered out of the nearby Polish-American grocery store. But by 6 PM, everything was dead quiet. No loud music or noises, and anyone sitting on their front porches spoke quietly, with everyone being inside by sundown. It was such a bucolic place to grow up. I felt lucky to live there.
Three things changed all of that.
The crack epidemic, offering our county up as a "regional criminal justice center", and the refugee complex.
Changes, And Not For The Better
Since we were dangerously close to both the hated New York City and Philadelphia, someone decided it would be a good idea to export their criminals to this quiet part of the state. Various complexes were built and the local prison was expanded. So bad guys were shipped and paroled here which caused crime in other areas to drop, but in ours, to soar.
The ill-fated refugee center ("kids in cages") was built nearby over the fierce opposition of the locals once we heard about the impact they had in other parts of the country. Since housing prices were low (high to us, low to big-city people), the criminals that had been dumped here, decided to remain once their prison terms were up. Suddenly hardened gang members and drug dealers were moving into quiet neighborhoods where nobody ever had a reason to lock their doors before.
Many had families in NY and Philly and told their friends about this place, thus we were awash with foul-mouthed people from NYC who brought nothing but crime and violence along with them. I have never met a nice person from New York City. Never. No Jerry Seinfeld's here.
They are the rudest people in America, and when asked why, they say it's because they're from "the projects" and they have to be that way to survive there. "Can't you turn that off now that you're in this quiet little town?" we'd ask. Nope. Once a complete jackass, always a complete jackass. To say that we despise them would be an understatement.
When asked why she was so foul-mouthed, one woman told us she was from "Far Rockaway" (whatever that is) as an excuse. Hopefully the people in "Near Rockaway" might be a little more decent.
They're surprised that their names, addresses, and photos get printed in the newspaper when they commit crimes here, as they're not used to that in NYC. And trust me, we turn them in to the police every opportunity we get. I heard one guy complain that his buddy came here from “The Big Apple” to deal drugs and was arrested only two weeks later. Good, keep that crap in New York, we don’t need it here.
They're easy to spot and stand out like a sore thumb with their "NY" Yankees hats and Giants jerseys (which we sure as hell don't wear), not to mention their rude manner of speaking. The police are told "guy wearing a NY cap on the corner selling drugs" and they pick him right up. Our prison is full of them and thank God for that.
So many New Yorkers commit crimes in NYC and then flee here that the NYPD has a special unit that comes here to arrest them. This is not a good place to hide. We've even been astonished to see them use vulgar language to pick up sweet, innocent old-order Amish girls. It was sickening, he wouldn't stop and he had to be escorted out. Did I say we hate them? Let me say it again, we hate people from New York City. Love the city, but hate the people. Hate. Hate. Hate. Got it? Good.
Notice I say the city of New York, because folks from say, upstate NY are a different breed entirely and some of the best people you'd ever want to meet. But anyone from "the five boroughs" seem to be imbued with a nasty, loud, brutish "me,me,me," attitude and a complete lack of basic civility. We have even seen them whip their junk out and urinate right on the sidewalk (in front of kids even) as if it's nothing. Absolute Neanderthals.
Then we have the refugee center, aaahhh... the center. We used to be pro-refugee, always showing compassion for those looking for a "better life" here in America. That is until they started killing our local people. The guy that attacked my grandmother when she turned her back to go make him a sandwich was from the refugee center. When we found out, we went straight to the house where he was being "sponsored" and I'll just leave it at that...
In the 90s there was apparently a crash in the sugar cane crop from a certain part of the world. Thus we were sent our "share" of people from that region and later, from all over the world, to this safe, quiet, little town.
Then the killing started.
The Killing Fields
Between the big-city people and the violent refugees with gang ties, this place turned into a wild-west shooting gallery. Drive-by shootings which were unknown here before, became a regular occurrence.
We still talk about the nice elderly christian lady who was robbed and punched in the face by a "migrant" (AFTER she complied and gave him her money) then being knocked down, hitting her head on the ground and dying on Christmas Eve. The (again, elderly) cigar store manager who stood his ground and was shot dead by another "refugee" when he refused to hand his money over, and so many others.
We have the New York City gang members who sprayed a block with gunfire while chasing a rival drug dealer, with bullets crashing through the windows of a daycare with little kids inside. The woman who was beheaded by her possesive husband from a culture where the men think they own the women they're in a relationship with. She tried to escape his abuse and paid for it with her life.
Oh, and the kicker? They interviewed the 25-year-old son who said that he still respected his father even after he removed her head with a machete. Unfuckingbelivable. That tells you how much women mean to them in their culture. If that had been my mom, he wouldn't have made it to the police station.
The man from a tropical country who told us at work that if his wife was raped and didn't fight the rapist off, he would kill her, the kids, and then himself. Crazy. We turned his ass right in and they took the kids away from him and his enabling wife. I could go on and on. This s-l-o-w-l-y turned the local people against both the big-city transplants and the violent immigrants who terrorize(d) the population.
The thing that irks me to this day is the disdain shown for America. Not by all of them of course, there are some good people out there but a healthy majority likes to bite the hand that feeds them. You came all this way hiking through Mexico and braving rough seas to reach the promised land of the United States only to disparage the country that puts food in your bellies and a roof over your head.
Thirty years of this resulted in mass protests against the federal government shipping people from all over the world here as well as the regional criminal justice center dumping hardened criminals from all over the state (and nation) here as well.
So the good people began to leave.
Exodus
The nice, safe, Polish and Irish neighborhood my grandmother lived in and that I grew up in was no more. The peace and nighttime tranquility now filled with gunshots and all-night loud music from people who get paid once a month by the government.
With no responsibilities and nowhere to be in the morning, they party the night away. And once their money is all gone by the middle of the month, the break-ins and robberies commence in order to fuel their drug-induced cravings. It's enough to turn a liberal into a conservative. This is why you'll sometimes see me mention hearing gunshots at night when I'm writing a blog post. It's really happening.
What I've been telling people here is "why should we be run out of the place we all love?" If anybody should leave, it should be them! Thanks to continued opposition from the community, they finally, thankfully closed the refugee center. Now the MS-13 gang members can go destroy someplace else.
I'm no Trump supporter, but I can understand why this county voted for him in 2016, and may do so again in 2024 (if he isn't convicted, that is). I get it. The people want someone to do something about unchecked violent crime, and that ties in with immigration.
We've had people from "South Asia" and "North Africa" (they don't use the term "Middle East" anymore) bitching about American men walking around with no shirts on and US women wearing bikinis in the summer.
"Why aren't the women covered up?" they'd ask. Because this isn't "South Asia" that's why. I'm sorry, but if you don't like it, get the fuck out. You came here for the liberty and freedom, and now you think there's too much of it? You want to turn the United States into the very country from which you fled?
Not happening bro.
Don't Bite The Hand That Feeds You
I saw the same thing when I lived in Germany. For five months all I heard were complaints whenever I spoke to refugees. Far from being thankful to Germany for taking them in and rescuing them from a war-torn country, they complained about the liberal nature of the German people.
I'll never forget the hour I spent at a German bus stop talking with a man from Afghanistan. "Aren't you happy to be here?" I asked. No, in fact he hated the freedom the women had to dress as they please. Hated the food, hated the cold and complained about everything.
I was like: "You do you, and let them do them." But no, it seemed he wanted Afghanistan to be replicated right there in Germany. "But isn't that oppressive environment that you escaped from?" Apparently not. I later found out that he'd been deported back to Afghanistan. I'm sure he's happier now.
I'm a patriot and an American nationalist, I love my country and want what's best for her. All I ask from foreigners and refugees is to respect the place that offers you refuge and do no harm to the American people. If this country isn't your cup of tea, rather than disrespect it, leave quietly. That's all.
But coming here and harming American citizens risks turning against you the very people that are providing you sanctuary and a chance at the American Dream.
Don't fuck it up.
If you were hungry in your home country, but now your belly is full here, show a little gratitude.
But don't expect us to give up our hard-won freedoms in order to become a carbon copy of the nation you escaped from. You came here for the American Dream, congrats, you made it, now start living it.
When I lived in Germany I never allowed myself to be drawn into criticizing the nation's political system or local government. The area we lived in was partly run by the Green party, and let me tell you it was very different from what I was used to. Not being able to buy Aleve in a store was a shock to us. However, I considered myself a GUEST in their country and comported myself accordingly. Any complaints we had as Americans about the way the country was run, we kept amongst ourselves.
One example was recycling. We don't do that in my city, so it was a new thing for me. The containers were all different colors and nothing was written in English. So getting no response to our requests as to which trash went where, we just dumped our stuff into the first one that was open.
I can still rember my first night taking trash out. There were several of us and all of this German writing that none of us could understand. After calling the "Housemaster" (yes, that's what he's called!) and receiving no answer, we said "fuck it" and dumped our trash in the closest one. But I was proud that no German ever heard us criticize their country. We showed respect for the land that we lived in.
There’s No Place Like Home
I love Germany and thoroughly enjoyed my time there. Not a big fan of the Apple (“Apfel”) pizza though! :) I was probably the only Yank willing to pay the equivalent of $15 for a pint of “imported” Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream. That little taste of home was worth it!
"Respect." That's the word. No matter where you are, show respect for the place that takes you in. Home can be anywhere, and home is what you make it. I'd hate to leave the city of my birth, but it may become too dangerous to remain. But wherever I land, you can bet I'll treat it like HOME.
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