by Edward Waverley
When President Obama appointed Eric “My People” Holder as US Attorney General in 2009, one of Holder’s very first policy initiatives was to abolish the White Hall of Fame (WHOF). Flexing many of the same revolutionary muscles he had built during his internship with the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, Holder moved quickly to seize WHOF property during those heady First Hundred Days. But those of us entrusted with the upkeep of White Hall had already long anticipated any such outrage. Providentially the Justice Department’s plans for a SWAT raid leaked to our operatives, and we swiftly removed our property from our longstanding grounds in Pulaski, Tennessee where, in the immediate aftermath of the War to Prevent Southern Independence, many of our ancestors had taken a courageous stand against colored intrusions so similar to those now faced by the present generation. It was through a cold and drizzly midnight fog that we vacated the sleepy town of Pulaski, setting our faces like flint for the north as we began a necessarily anonymous, subterranean existence.
Heeding the Lord’s enjoinder to remember Lot’s wife, none of us that night even looked back upon the birthplace of our parent institution, that Klan which was launched by Bedford Forrest to defend the White man and his culture after all economic and political liberty had been ripped from free Whites in the South, and replaced with an experiment in radical egalitarianism. As the bloggerCWNY has said about that earlier era, “Forrest's wisdom was in his blood, and his wise blood told him that the white man and his culture was inherently unequal to all other men and to every other culture.”
We faced a new underground existence. Though our new digs are much more down-at-heel than formerly, we have foiled the barbarian Holder in his main purpose by rescuing the invaluable materials that, until 2009, had enjoyed nearly fifty years of uninterrupted public visibility near the birthplace of our predecessor institution.
The White Hall of Fame was founded in Pulaski in the summer of 1960 as a response to the relentless calumny and vitriol being poured out upon White people in nearby Nashville during that city’s notorious Nashville Sit-ins. Colored rabble-rousers like the Antiguan lawyer Z. Alexander Looby, community instigator the Rev’rund Kelly Miller Smith, and everyone’s favorite adulterer-plagiarist Martin Luther King, coordinated what would eventually become the first broadly successful campaign to foist integration upon a peaceful and biracial Southern city. In the spring of 1960, the communist minister Kelly Miller Smith of the First Baptist Church on Capitol Hill began his efforts to thrust integration illegally upon White business owners within Nashville. When the businesses and property of many White Nashvillians were being occupied and damaged by an obstinate, multicultural horde of thugs and race hustlers, many valiant Whites vowed to protect their property and to defend their liberty as businessmen to run their shops and diners however they chose. If it had not been for the imminent danger these thugs posed to lawful White proprietors, it might have been amusing to witness the antics of black men who claimed to abhor violence but who were eager to trespass where retaliation was inevitable. The Sainted MLK appeared at the colored Fisk University in April to lecture Nashvillians on the moral superiority of the ‘peaceful’ intruders and to assure the occupiers that he found their actions “inspiring.” By May, the black and white descendants of Robespierre and Marx had forced their will into law in Nashville, and with the help of the police, blacks were permitted to go in and out of White businesses. Although liberal Nashville Mayor Ben West collaborated joyfully with the barbarians who demanded admission into private businesses, and although the outcome of the sit-ins was a resounding blow against the social and legal traditions of Dixie, several of the White victims organized a rapid response.
The White response to the sit-ins was a singular instance of how violence can clarify blood wisdom. Because racial bonds are both social and biological, the truths of racial bonds often go unspoken, for they are truths that are lived and breathed rather than being spoken about or written. That is why so few of the great Europeans of the past like Sir Walter Scott or Charles Dickens had an explicit racial code. For them, it simply went without saying that European culture was superior to all other cultures, because no other culture had succeeded in enshrining Christian charity in its institutions and communities. The fact that those older writers recognized the unique role of Europeans in world history is inescapable when you simply read their books. The assumptions of the Christian faith and of the racial ties that bind undergird every word that they wrote, and for this reason it is hardly surprising that all of the greatest European writers are today the objects of the relentless derision of multicultural liberals and academic Gnostics.
But in certain epochs, like the 1860’s in America, or in a more confused and less salient form in the 1960’s, the trends and accidents of human action sometimes coalesce in ways that force latent ideas up to the surface of history. During the radical, federal reshaping of all aspects of the South after 1865, there was not time for Forrest and the other survivors to write novels and books defending the Southern cause. Just as the rapine and pillaging by radical Yankees against the fiercely independent Southern Whites inspired the men of the South to form a Klan to defend its homes and its women, the Washington City meddlers who foisted Phase Two of Reconstruction upon the South in the 1960s inspired the foundation of the White Hall of Fame in the summer of 1960.
We are a less martial group than either the Confederacy or the Klan, though we are the spiritual and filial descendants of both of those proud bodies. Once integration had been set in stone in Nashville, there were even at that late date plenty of Cavaliers remaining who would not go quietly along with the program of race-mixing. I was only a young boy when my father gathered a few likeminded men to make his proposal for White Hall. He didn’t realize it at the time, but as he gave his talk to the group of about five patriots one night around our kitchen table, I was perched within earshot atop our hallway stairs. I heard him tell them:
Men, none of us knows what God has ordained of the future. And we aren’t like those who have no faith in His goodness, and who in the face of struggles or even death, abandon all hope and refuse to struggle against the powers and principalities arrayed against His Kingdom. For the moment we still have our swords to defend our kin and our homes, and regardless of that, we have for eternity our union with His sacred heart. Just as our ancestors refused to fear the government, no matter how cruel or ruthless the men who ruled, we also must refuse to bow slavishly to their every whim. God knows that we are not violent men, nor were the Klansmen bloodthirsty savages. But God also knows, and let us never forget, that whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Him to stumble, it is better for that man never to have been born. We shall never be among those who cause or permit our little ones to have their lives or their link to Him severed by barbarians.
That was all. Everyone seemed to understand and to be stirred into feelings that were both ancient and new, all agreeing that they would by all means regard each other as brothers and extended families, knights of a new round table. White Hall began that night in our little house, and within the year, the men were making monthly excursions to nearby Pulaski for times of retreat, research, and mutual encouragement. As depressing and devastating as the ensuing decades were to all that was normal in American life, the establishment of White Hall was one defiant outpost of European civilization. And now, even the publicly visible grounds and facilities of our institute have been forced out of sight. But never, we trust, out of mind.