Why I Left Paterson, New Jersey

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 victim of anti-white racism. In May 2012, three black guys beat me up for no other reason than being white. I was called “cracker,” “honky,” “white boy,” “faggot,” and several other names before getting punched in the face so hard, I lost three of my front teeth. And for what? Nothing more than the color of my skin! And they call white cops “racists.” All I did was park my car, step out onto the lot, and suddenly I was swarmed. I did nothing to provoke them. I stood up for myself, but it was impossible for me to handle three attackers at once. Blacks always attack when they have a clear numeric advantage.

That was in Paterson, New Jersey, where I grew up. I’ve since moved away because the place was becoming a war zone. You may have heard the story about a 12-year-old girl getting shot and killed in Paterson. Well, the killer, Jhymiere Moore, and I have a strange connection. A few years ago, my brothers and I finally convinced our elderly father to move out of the city. He was reluctant because he had literally built the house he’d lived in for some 50 years. Unsurprisingly, he sold to a black family . . . and that’s where the teenager who killed that 12-year-old was living at the time of his arrest.

I left Paterson because it was getting worse and worse. I moved to Pennsylvania, and now I’m locked and loaded with a carry conceal permit. I’ve never felt more safe.