Anonymous American, American Renaissance, March 26, 2023
This story is one of hundreds Colin Flaherty planned to publish in a book before his death. American Renaissance will post one a week.
I am a middle-aged black male, born and raised in Philadelphia. Never been to jail, or lived a life of crime, and I don’t hang with those who do so.
Several years ago, after serving a couple of months in the military, I was home on leave and went to a corner store in Southwest Philadelphia to get some Chinese food. As I came out of the store, a young guy told me to “give that sh*t up!” I could see a gun in his hand. Before I could respond I heard a shot. I ran as fast as I could until I was a block away. Suddenly, I felt a muscle in my left arm pulsating. I took a look and realized I had been shot. The adrenaline rush was replaced with excruciating pain. I looked for someone to help me. I stopped at a group of people who were gathered in front of a bar. I yelled “Help! Help! I’ve been shot!” It was as if I were invisible. No one made a move, no one responded.
I immediately jumped onto a trolley and I asked the driver if he could call the police. He acted as if he was the one with a gunshot wound. The deer-in-the-headlights stare is all he gave me. As the driver began to tell me to find a seat, an older man came up to me and gave me a shirt to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. I rode the trolley until I got to the neighborhood police station, where I was taken to the ER. The bullet went through my radius bone. After months of rehab, I eventually made a full physical recovery. However, my sense of safety had been altered forever. To this day, I don’t go into corner stores at night. During my military career, I have been deployed overseas and still felt safer on active duty in the Army than in the inner cities.
My uncle was shot in the neck this year, and two beautiful women in my life, good, hard-working community members, have been shot to death as well. Again, these are law-abiding citizens, not thugs. Blacks are scared of other blacks. I drive a nice car, and I get pulled over more than the average black person. And that’s not acceptable. But I am never fearful of the cops. The violence has prompted me to work with agencies to stop the killing. However, I have noticed that the participation is very low. Not as high as the Black Lives Matter movement.