George Lincoln Rockwell's HATE HOUSE in Arlington VA. Right after his assassination, injun Dan Rather showed up with his TV camera carrying flunky. We had them running up and down the hill trying to find Rockwell's nonexistent son. Great fun. But that's what hate is about anyway.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 



 
 
 

A group of my friends at a HATE RALLY. Notice the evil and sullen looks on the faces of these European type racists. The girl on the right was the target of a Sambo's interest but the fellow on the left reeducated him along safer lines. The woman on the left loved to discuss philosophical matters and therefore became my steady dinner companion.
 



 

Another happy photo of my hate monger friends. Andy, on the right, suffered a broken back years ago which added to his waist. He loved to play games of 'chicken' and that was the time he lost. This was before crash helmets, padded enclosures, rescue teams, safety belts, and the mandatory baby bottle full of spring water strapped on your back and an 'energy bar' stuffed into a convenient place. If my arms were longer, I could have been the picture.
 
 
 
 



This is my lifelong girlfriend's house in Florida. If you strain your eyes, you can see a bit of her 1953 Corvette which she still owns plus a 1955 Ford Thunderbird. That's my Cougar in the driveway – one of the most comfortable cars I've ever driven. Laurie and I go back to our teen years and I make it a point to visit her as often as I can. Women like her are about as common as snow in Texas. I have been fortunate to have known many trustworthy people – friends in the truest sense of the word.

This is Laurie watering some of her plants. As you can see, she is interesting to watch whether cooking, ironing, swimming or taking a shower. Her violet eyes are something one does not forget easily. She is very witty, extremely pleasant to talk and be with, plus having many other uplifting talents and attributes.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 




This was my favorite room. The pool is off to the right. Here you see an ironing board. Laurie loved to make sure my clothes were properly pressed. She was a great lover of ceramics. The lion on the table cost her $600 but money is made to be spent since it helps the other fellow earn a living.





This was where I spent much time. Laurie had a pet ocelot (Leopardus pardalis) which loved to sink its teeth into my leg. I often escaped this critter by diving into this pool. After the third attack, I told her if that fool cat bit me once more, I'd have it for supper. She politely put the thing into a cage. Laurie had a few house rules one of which was that no shoes were allowed on her carpets. Another was that no suits were to be worn in the pool. As I never saw any 'minority' in her house or pool, I assumed that she was a hate filled racist. That didn't scare me as I slept well even though the bedroom door was always open. I never did figure out where that wild cat slept.