All posts by Dr. James Thomas Jones III

African-American History

How A Chance Encounter Increased My Understanding of The COINTELPRO: A Show of Respect for Timothy Hayes, Roderick Hughes, and Paul Stiner

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I have learned that in this life, one never knows what the next moment will bring. I am sure that by the time we finish this race called life that we will be able to look back and attest to triumphs, challenges, successes, and failures. I pray that your recollections include a few people that impacted your viewpoints in a significant manner; the type of influence that makes you smile when you reflect on the wisdom that they graciously poured into you.

If nothing else, I hope that this post proves the importance of being open to the process of life because you just never know who you may meet.

Please bear with me as I attempt to smooth out a rather difficult story that revolves around two chance encounters that occurred nearly two decades apart, yet impacted my life in unimaginable ways. Although unconventional in nature, for any of this to make sense, I must speak about the most recent meeting before the latter meeting.

ENCOUNTERING TIMOTHY HAYES

It was a rather mundane day of social media engagement that exposed my “writings”, a derisive term that a brother named Timothy Hayes spewed my way. I remember the unexpected conflict as if it occurred yesterday.

Mr. Timothy Hayes issued a rather blunt rebuttal to a posting I made about Minister Louis Farrakhan. It may be the best-kept secret in the world that many writers, myself included, abhor criticism of our writings from what we view as a harsh, sometimes hostile, world. Any good writer will tell you that the writing process is akin to the birthing of a child and therefore our words are a never-ending representation of our being. So, I am certain that you will understand that “I felt some kind of way” when Mr. Hayes issued the following comment regarding the aforementioned posting.

Never has a man been so correct and so wrong at the exact same time.

Ouch!!!!!!!!!

As I am certain that you can imagine, this initial encounter turned into a drawn-out emotion-filled debate filled with many people who rushed to defend my post. In the throes of that impassioned discussion, I never imagined that I would later give thanks that my path crossed with Mr. Timothy Hayes.

Somewhere during the back-and-forth banter between several strong personalities, Mr. Hayes took center-stage in his signature prophetic style and offered an insightful political commentary that both illuminated his comment and amazingly won me over to his side.

My admiration and respect for Mr. Timothy Hayes skyrocketed to the point that I can unabashedly state that he is someone that I have come to admire. His expressions of wisdom are highly influential in the way that I view the world.

Over the course of several months, I learned that Mr. Hayes was a prominent member of the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense, a group that served as the topic of my Doctoral Dissertation and initial book. I privately mused that I have found my way to a person who possesses the ability to fill in so many of the gaps in knowledge about the Black Panther Party. Timothy Hayes actually stood with Huey, Bobby, Eldridge, Geronimo, Fred, Assata, and a litany of other Black Power Era heroes. And if that were not enough, this brilliant brother knew Brother Malcolm in a substantive manner; this was the catalyst behind his initial comment regarding Minister Farrakhan. In many ways, Mr. Hayes is a much-needed signpost that I needed to regularly consult.

So, I was not surprised when I read a recent posting by Timothy Hayes regarding why he does not celebrate Kwanzaa. What follows is an excerpt of the alluded to posting.

WHY I WOULD NEVER CELEBRATE KWANZA AND WHY YOU SHOULD THINK ABOUT IT …Today begins the so-called holiday known as Kwanza, a celebration that has no real roots in any African traditions, but many African Americans choose to observe it as an alternative to Xmas. That’s fine if it works for you. I however use this time every year to remember the lives of my two friends and fellow Black Panther Party members. John Huggins and “Bunchy” Carter. Who were killed on January 17th 1969 on the orders of a sadistic cult leader who also was a paid agent of the FBI.

This person Ron Karenga…known mostly today for inventing “Kwanza”…also was convicted of torturing two black women, Gail Davis and Deborah Jones, holding them for days beating them and at times using electrical cords and hot soldering irons burning them in private parts of their bodies. After serving only a short prison sentence, Karenga surfaced in Southern Calif. again with various Academic degrees he still can’t prove he earned.

Two members of the rival black nationalist group US (United Slaves founded by and controlled by Karenga ), brothers George and Larry Stiner were arrested for the shooting death of my friends…and convicted of conspiracy to commit murder and second-degree murder. Both were sentenced to life. The Stiners escaped from San Quentin prison in 1974. Larry Stiner lived as a fugitive in South America for 20 years and then surrendered. George Stiner is still on the run.

My friend John Huggins of New HavenConn. was a wonderful man who took me to Calif. With Geronimo Pratt to train in the Black Panther Party. Bunchy Carter was a reformed gang leader who brought the first peace to the street gangs of Los Angeles. Bunchy helped set up a free shoes program, a free health clinic, and one of the first shelters for battered women in the state of Calif. As well as the Free Breakfast Program and other free food programs in the Los Angeles area.. Rather than observe Kwanza the holiday invented by the sick sadistic traitor Karenga I remember the lives of my friends. I have no problem with people who chose to observe Kwanza…but I also believe that what you don’t know CAN hurt you.

MEETING RODERICK HUGHES

While traveling from Columbus, Ohio, to Houston, Texas, for a job interview at Prairie View A & M University I was forced to confront my fear of flying. As I stood along a wall awaiting what I considered the uncertainty of the pending flight, my mind busied itself with mundane tasks such as counting the squares on the carpet and how many people would board the plane. Of course, I counted how many Black people would be on this flight; there would be three of us (all males). I issued a quick petition to God to be seated next to one of the other brothers on the flight. As the familiar Gospel refrain goes, “He’s an on-time God, yes he is.” My prayer was granted, I sat next to Mr. Roderick Hughes.

Over the course of a few hours, I learned many things about Houston, Texas, and Prairie View A & M University from Mr. Hughes. Our conversation ended with a gracious “demand” that I take his number and if I did accept the job at Prairie View that I would contact him. I wrote his number inside of a favorite book and pledged to call him if I relocated to Houston.

I eventually accepted the job and contacted this brother at an opportune moment.

During an hours’ long conversation Mr. Hughes invited my family to his house to celebrate his newlywed status. On the assigned date, I found myself surrounded by a house full of people who were welcoming beyond belief. To my surprise, Roderick Hughes, a transplant from Columbus, Ohio, was surrounded by his bride’s family; none of his blood-relatives were present. As an introvert, I can tell you that a night of socializing is downright exhausting. My weariness was best displayed by my going into an empty living room and finding a comfortable position on a plush sofa.

Predictably, my respite was interrupted by a well-meaning brother, one of Roderick’s brothers-in-law, who wanted to know what I did. After sharing with him that I was an African-American Studies Professor who was attempting to convert my Doctoral Dissertation over the Black Panther Party into a publishable manuscript, this brother shared that he had some cousins who were members of the Black Panther Party. Of course this tidbit of information captured my attention. After a few pensive moments, he stated, “Wait a minute. Let me go and get my older brother, he would know better than me.” A few moments later, his brother Paul entered the living room and shared the following.

They weren’t Black Panthers. They were accused of killing two Black Panthers on the UCLA campus but they didn’t do it.

I listened intently to an all too familiar story that I’d heard innumerable times from Panther members involved with the Los Angeles Branch of the Panther Party.

Although I hated to interject, I interrupted Paul as he fleshed out the story in unbelievable detail. My question was a simple one.

“You’re talking about George and Larry Stiner.”

He responded with a nod of his head. His acknowledgment forced me to ask the simplest of questions for my personal sanity.

“What is your name!!!!!!”

His response was, “Paul Stiner.”

I listened intently to this new perspective on a story that I’d heard countless times from Panthers ranging from Elaine Brown to Bobby Seale. However, this version was a welcomed expansion that included unknown details.

According to Mr. Stiner, FBI Agents questioned his entire family regarding the incident and the shocking revelation that George and Larry Stiner, although convicted for the killing of Alprentice “Bunchy” Carter and John Huggins, never spent a night inside of a prison cell. In fact, according to the Stiner family, the parents of the convicted “killers” were allowed to stay with them inside of the correctional facility until the night that they “escaped” to South America. According to the Stiner family, the escape story was a fabrication by the U.S. Government.

Of course, my mind was blown by these new revelations that confirmed not only the underhanded tactics of the Counter Intelligence Program (COINTELPRO) but more importantly, it verified the need to listen to those living treasures who lived through history that persons such as myself will only read about.

The existence of persons such as Timothy Hayes and the entire Stiner family is a blessing that is, unfortunately, expiring as each of us are. It is important that we engage and listen to the wisdom that flows from those who came before us and are still able to share healthy slices of advice hewn from decades of participating in the struggle to uplift not only Black America but also those persons around the globe interested in the substantiation of humanity.

So, I take this brief moment to acknowledge persons such as Timothy Hayes, Roderick Hughes, and Paul Stiner for their graciousness to expand my understanding of a history that occurred prior to my arrival on this planet. I respect you and honor you with every thought that I write.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race, and Culture, 2020.                    

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The Impossible Position: Why It is Impossible to Possess a Fully Functioning Moral Compass and Support Donald J. Trump

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As a child, I was convinced that my uncle Leon Van Buren was the wisest and most powerful man alive. Increased understanding of the important things of life such as the ability to claim calm and peace in a chaotic world further convinced me of my initial conclusions.

As one would expect, Uncle Leon was integral to my life from the moment that I arrived. In time, it became apparent to me that above all others, there was a quiet strength that undergirded his movements, his presence, and his thoughts. In time, I developed a desire to be like my Uncle Leon.

Although my Uncle was a prodigious Jazz musician, a genre of music that I am currently engrossed in, it was not his talent that birthed my deep admiration nor was it his obvious commitment to his family that produced the yearning to replicate him. That desire flowed from a difficult to identify the intangible metaphysical quality that cannot be seen, touched, smelled, or heard; it is nonetheless real.

The alluded to quality is most visibly shown via his ability to enter a room and change its atmosphere for the better. That is the rarest quality. As a bourgeoning teen, I hoped to develop that ability by the time I reached adulthood. Closely associated with this ability is wisdom that pours forth like a faucet turned on full blast.

Of the many things that I learned by sitting at the foot of my uncle was “the meaning of life.” According to my uncle Leon,

We are sent to Earth to learn certain things that a higher power desires that we learn. One of the most important of these is the need to help each other.  

This teaching has served as a North Star in regards to my grand philosophy of the meaning of Life. It is this teaching that beckons me to acknowledge all (friend and stranger) that I encounter and unceasingly provide charitable contributions that some Christians would term “alms to the poor.”

I am certain my belief that humans are here to help each other births my bewilderment regarding Trump supporters who claim that they are operating out of the spirit of Jesus Christ. Let me take a moment to state that I have no problem with Conservative politics; in fact, I often find myself touting the need for a steep increase in “socially responsible individualism” among my community. My problem is with Trump supporters who appear to be determined to create unconscionable incivility that contradicts every tenet of the Christianity that they claim enslaves them.  

During a recent exchange with a person that I have some semblance of respect for, I listened as he railed against concepts such as “progressivism” and “communism” that he was unable to define in an impassioned argument aimed at bolstering the need to Make America Great Again. Previous debate convinced me that this middle-aged Black man was seeking for seemingly the millionth time to convince me to abandon my position as what can be best termed a political agnostic.

The argument reiterated this gentleman’s fervent desire to heal this world via the application of “the balm from Gilead.” According to him, there is no other possible solution for a nation that has lost its soul. One is hard-pressed to argue against the assertion that these are troubling times for America and her citizenry.  

I long ago concluded that Trump supporters do not possess the ability to see the irony that they have basted themselves within. I am sure that I am not alone in believing that Trump supporters have no legitimate claim to any facet of morality. Their support of Donald Trump is overwhelming evidence of a faulty moral compass guiding their decisions.

At its best, Trump supporters speaking about morality, decency, and fairness is a foolhardy proposition. Access to such self-righteousness was forfeited the moment that support was given to a man that they would not even consider “good company.” There is simply no way that one can support Trump on moral grounds and not forfeit a significant portion of their soul. I am sure that my God who sits on high and looks low disapproves of much that occurs within this nation, however, I am certain that Trump supporters’ refusal to comprehend that we are principally sent to this world to heal each other is en inexcusable offense.

At least that is what my Uncle Leon taught me. And as I told you he is the wisest man alive.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III © Manhood, Race, and Culture 2020.

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If The Killing of Qasem Soleiman Leads to WWIII, Should Blacks Serve American Interests Abroad

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Although I did not foresee the frenetic fears and scuttlebutt regarding how the Trump ordered drone attack that ended the life of Iranian military General Qasem Soleiman could affect Black America, I am not surprised by the robust discussion.

From what I have been able to glean, there appear to be two strands of discussion occurring within Black America.

  • Will the draft be reinstated?
  • Should Black Americans support this nation in its conflicts abroad?

It is the latter of these two matters that delivers an unmistakable feeling of having been here before.

This question regarding “should Blacks support this nation in its conflicts abroad?” is a familiar one that invariably arises during every military conflict.

Consider for a moment after Germany sunk the Lusitania, an act that guaranteed the U.S. would enter WWI, non-Whites (a populace that included new immigrant populations from Germany, Italy, France, Ireland, etc.) were called on to prove their loyalty to “the land of the free and home of the brave.” W.E.B. Du Bois, the foremost leader of Blacks during this period, felt that we must serve and “prove ourselves brave” as this would be the war to “make Americans.” He later realized that his analysis was severely flawed as it failed to recognize how deep racial hatred ran through the veins of non-Black Americans even during times of war.

To the chagrin of many Blacks and the surprise of no one, the plight of Blacks after their heroic service during WWI remained the same. In fact, their subordinate status was emphasized via racially segregated victory parades and the Red Summer of 1919. A historical period that facilitated a steep rise in the lynching of Blacks, particularly servicemen who had just returned from advancing this nation’s interest abroad.

It is this situation that inspired Claude McKay’s poetic call to arms If We Must Die.

If we must die, let it not be like hogs

Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,

While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,

Making their mock at our accursèd lot.

If we must die, O let us nobly die,

So that our precious blood may not be shed

In vain; then even the monsters we defy

Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!

O kinsmen! we must meet the common foe!

Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,

And for their thousand blows deal one death-blow!

What though before us lies the open grave?

Like men we’ll face the murderous, cowardly pack,

Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

Similar events surround Black participation in WWII.

Having learned lessons regarding the evil that appears to be etched into the spirits of so many of their countrymen, Black soldiers entered WWII fighting under the banner of “The Double-V Campaign” — Victory Abroad and Victory at Home. Yet, their final reward was a continuation of their subjugated second-class citizenship.

Participation in neither war appreciably altered the status of Blacks in this nation. Hence, it should be expected that the question of “Should Blacks support this nation in its conflicts abroad?” remains pertinent.

In many ways, the consistent pressure from “Whites” regarding Black patriotism is not only offensive but also reveals our opponent’s well-worn tendency to gloss over historical realities. Within the historically unsupportable assertion that Blacks are less patriotic than their fairer-skinned countrymen is a hidden revelation from Whites that if they were treated as poorly as Blacks have been by this nation, they would not support it in any way shape or form. Even the issuing of this question by a mongrelized “White populace” conveys a historically unsupportable perspective that they are the sole owners of this nation.

Even a cursory reading of American history definitively proves that there has not been a single military conflict where Blacks have not displayed their patriotism. How quickly do people forget that the first to give his life for the establishment of this nation during the Boston Massacre was Crispus Attucks, a Black man.

In actuality, the patriotism question should be placed at the feet of the descendants of Confederates who warred against this nation, not Blacks who have always served this nation with no guarantee that their service would appreciably improve their condition. When viewed through this lens, a credible argument could be made that Blacks are the most American of all.

In regards to the question of should they serve this nation during military conflicts that have historically delivered little tangible improvement to their lives, I am indifferent. My indifference flows from the fact that my countrymen have repeatedly proven to be hypocrites who have yet to display a consistent determination to provide access to much-needed resources on a fair basis regardless of race, creed, or sex.

If the current situation with Iran leads to WWIII, I already realize that Blacks will do what they have always done and defended this nation without either demand or expectation of any tangible improvement in their lives. It is what we have always done and I don’t see any reason that it will change at this point.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race, and Culture 2020.  

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“Didn’t You know that Being Black and Poor Came At A Cost “: The Sad Saga of Bryce Gowdy and the “Hell Hounds” on the Trail of Poor Black Folk

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Far too often we ignore profound messages because of their source. I have consciously attempted to avoid this trap and be receptive to poignant communications that possess the potential to illuminate my constantly evolving understanding of life. It has served me well.

While reading about the heartbreaking suicide of Georgia Tech football recruit Bryce Gowdy, 17, the words of hip-hop emcee Big K.R.I.T. came to mind. The famed rapper’s admonishment that “being Black and poor comes at a cost” unfortunately serves as theme music for far too many Blacks struggling against the grip of poverty and the misery it delivers in our minds and souls. Of course, for Black America, the path to poverty is a multi-lane toll road laden expressway with myriad exits and even more potholes.

It is difficult to argue against the assertion that the foremost by-product of the grinding costs of “being Black and poor” is an ever-increasing pressure. Trust me when I say that the alluded to “pressure” causes instability and unpredictably within those that it afflicts. The great poet Langston Hughes asked in his poem Harlem what happens to a Dream Deferred? Does it sag like a heavy load or does it explode? 

Only those who have dealt with the mounting pressure of being “Black and poor” have an inkling of an understanding of why Bryce Gowdy, a young man scheduled to enroll at Georgia Tech on a “full-ride athletic scholarship” this week, committed suicide via a freight train. For Gowdy, Charles Dickens’ words that “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” ring true as this young man whose family was in the throes of homelessness was on the brink of leaving all of that behind.

In retrospect, it appears as if Gowdy was being pursued by the same “hell hounds” that pursued famed Blues guitarist Robert Johnson.

The alluded to “hell hounds” that attach themselves to so many within our community birth “social ills” such as alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide, depression, and promiscuity among those that they doggedly pursue. If nothing else, these addictions and evils provide those desperately seeking a reprieve from a hellish existence brief shelter.

In hindsight, it is obvious that Bryce Gowdy’s “hell hounds” caused a psychological break that birthed a desperate search for meaning in life. Shibbon Mitchell, Bryce’s mother, shared one of her final interactions with her child in the following statement.

Better days for Bryce and his mother

A few days ago, Bryce was talking crazy…he kept talking about the signs and symbols he was seeing. He kept saying he could see people for who they really are…He had a lot of questions about spirituality and life. He kept asking if I was going to be okay if his brothers were going to be okay.   

Although most Black males being pursued by “hell hounds” suffer in silence, Gowdy’s circumstances were different as others outside of his family were aware of his struggles. Jevon Glenn, Gowdy’s high school football coach, illuminates this young man’s burdensome situation. According to Glenn,

He had what looked like the opportunity of a lifetime to most kids, but he felt a burden and we talked about it that he’d be going off to Georgia Tech to stability, to free room and board, not worrying about food or money or anything like that. But he’d be leaving his mother and brothers in an unstable situation.

Bryce Gowdy’s situation is not rare. In fact, it is a fairly typical depiction of “the cost of being Black and poor” in America. It is a grind that whittles even the strongest in our midst down to pitiful caricatures of their former selves.

In the wake of this young man’s untimely demise, questions regarding why no one intervened on his behalf are natural. Anyone who has ever had “hell hounds on their trail” will tell you that questions prove how little some people know about this situation. They certainly do not understand that this problem of all-consuming grinding poverty does not cease until a seemingly inevitable psychological break occurs.

Unfortunately for Black America, Bryce Gowdy was not the first young African-American male to find the price of being “Black and poor” too much to bear and he will definitely not be the last. All that any of us can hope for right now is that he has found the peace that eluded him during his earthly existence.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III 

© Manhood, Race, and Culture, 2020.

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Slowing the Rising Price of Being Black and Poor: Why it is Crucial that Blacks Become Politically Astute

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There is little doubt that in the upcoming battle for the White House that in the words of De La Soul “the stakes are high.”

Like all other political seasons, this moment mandates that economically marginalized populations (working-class, the poor, and a tenuously positioned middle-class) be prepared for a major, yet never-ending battle in the larger war for resources in America. It is late in the game for non-elites to believe that this nation has any concern for its citizenry.

The most disturbing aspect of the current political season is the continuation of what can be appropriately termed an astounding disengagement from the process among Blacks. The alluded to disengagement emanates from disparate segments of Black America. While many Black Christians place their hopes in the unchanging hand of God, African-American women busy themselves viewing reality television shows and Black men watch professional sports as if their lives depend on it.

From my perspective, the most troubling politically disengaged Black populace are contemporary Black Nationalists, many of them operating in the name of the Black Panther Party. In many ways, the decision of aspiring Panthers to avoid the political arena reveals an astounding lack of understanding of the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense legacy. I am certain that Fred Hampton, the Chairman of the Chicago Chapter of the Black Panther Party, is rolling in his grave as wannabe Panthers pose with armaments while phrase-mongering to anyone in their vicinity. Sadly, such groups are so engrossed in such foolishness that they have by-passed Chairman Fred’s call for political engagement delivered in his observation that “war is nothing but politics with bloodshed and politics is nothing but war without bloodshed.”

The decision of huge swaths of Black America, including self-proclaimed leaders, to not engage the political process reduces to a putrid, yet familiar, smell of unadulterated cowardice, confusion, and inefficiency. It is an all too familiar, if not favored fragrance of Black America.

At a crisis moment such as this, I am astounded by how many African-Americans have no desire to understand the political arena. Such people do not understand that it is the political arena that sets the price of “being black and poor.”

In many ways, Black America’s failure to engage the political process is tantamount to surrendering prior to a minor skirmish, well before a major battle.

Although my lack of faith in the majority of Black America becoming politically astute flows from several places, I am convinced that this matter boils down to a daunting belief by Blacks that they have no power and therefore do not matter in this nation. Such a perspective feeds into the squandering of a legitimate ownership claim for this nation; a claim that was earned via our ancestor’s blood, sweat, and tears. Make no mistake about it, the ownership claim of persons of African descent begins with their arrival to the Jamestown colony and therefore predates the founding of this nation. Yet, at the present moment where political engagement is needed, far too many Blacks refuse to move, yet stand prepared to complain loudly when the cost of being poor and Black is raised to an even more burdensome level.

Although I am not foolish enough to believe that the lack of political engagement is not the sole reason behind the misery and suffering of Blacks, however, I am sane enough to realize that it is a contributing factor in that process.

Dr. James Thomas Jones III

© Manhood, Race, and Culture, 2019.