I think I was just away from the reality of Detroit for too long.  I did something the other day I wouldn’t have even considered doing a year or two ago.  I don’t know if I just had a momentary lapse in my understanding of the complete niggerfuxation of Detroit or if I just blocked it out in the desire to do something traditional in the city that my parents grew up in and loved.

I woke up for work on Monday morning and turned on the jewtube to see the shining white face of a local reporter giving me the morning news.  It was a bright shining morning and the reporter was on assignment from the Detroit River’s edge and informing me on the sprinkle of “folks” who were already setting up for the massive annual fireworks display on the Detroit River.  The scene through the news camera showed a nice white family setting up their blankets and chairs, ready to tough out a long hot day for a prime spot to see the show.

The 4th of July fireworks on the Detroit River have been a tradition in Detroit since I was born. As a child I went as a child several times, none of which I remember and the last time I went to the fireworks downtown was as a naive teenager.  The last time I attended the fireworks on the river I remember it being rowdy and seeming a bit dangerous but as a teenager those things seem fun and exciting.  As the years went by fewer and fewer people I know made it downtown to the fireworks, the idea of attending this event had completely faded from my mind in the last few years.

Maybe the scene from the news report burned some suggestion onto my subconscious, I would have never considered it before but for some reason I decided I wanted to go. I didn’t think about it much or consider the fact that it was a free event being held in the summertime in the blackest city in the nation.  I kind of felt, for a moment, like your average naive american joe six pack who thinks that the world is just the same as the one he grew up in no matter how bad the reality is. I also forgot about the stories of the shootings that have taken place at this event on many occasions.

I sent a text message to my girlfriend asking her if she wanted to go, she agreed and was excited that I asked because she had never been….turns out there was a reason for that.

As we arrived in the downtown area we got caught in heavy traffic on Michigan Avenue and I began to start doubting my decision go downtown.  Blacks everywhere, left, right, center, blacks, blacks, and more blacks . The few white people I saw in cars looked out of place and intimidated, I realized I was one of them.  Loud thumping music was coming from every car with a black face inside whether it was a sheboon with a weave in a brand new Range Rover or a 1982 rusted Cutlass with a car load of rough looking nigger bucks grimming at the crackers out of the windows.

Anxious to get out of traffic and find a spot to watch the show I picked the first pay lot I saw and pulled in.  We paid our 8 bucks to park and grabbed our chairs and began walking the half mile to the rivers edge.  As we walked I slowly began to have more doubts about my decision to brave Detroit’s streets with my girlfriend.

It soon became very clear to us that we were the only white people in sight, literally.  The ratio of blacks to Whites at this event had to be at least 50 to 1.  The smell was horrible, walking behind groups of sometimes 20 young nigs who had been thuggin around all day was not only smelly but also terrifying.  Crackheads screaming, nigger thugs acting like gang bangers, sheboons walking around with hardly anything on, nigger bucks leering like feral apes at everything appearing female that walked by, little niglets running around everywhere, bums, whores, beggars, drunks.  I realized I had made a horrible mistake.

We toughed it out.  We made it to Hart Plaza about 2 hours before the fireworks were to start.  Hart plaza was full to capacity and was closed, there were masses of blacks everywhere still 50 to 1.  As we sat in a small grassy area surrounded by these subhumans on every side, my girlfriend and I quickly realized that this was the farthest thing from fun either of us could imagine.  Throngs of blacks lined the streets doing black thangs, cops blared their sirens, helicopters flew over the crowd.  The entire experience was loud, smelly, ugly, scary, dangerous, and lewd. It wasn’t the crowd that was the problem, it was the blacks that were the problem.

We left before it got dark. We couldn’t take it, we sat among the filth for under 30 minutes and realized we didn’t belong there, we weren’t invited, this wasn’t for us.  Another wonderful Detroit tradition destroyed by fucking niggers.  White people used to look forward to this event, we used to bring our families and meet our friends, we used to feel safe here, we used to enjoy spending our time and money to see one of the largest fireworks displays in North America.  But it’s now a “black thang”. I couldn’t imagine taking my children to this event I might as well take them to black spring break.

As we made our way back to our car we had to dodge in and out of more throngs of blacks on the sidewalks making their way to the spot we had just left and thanked ourselves for getting out of there when we did.  What an awful experience, what a saddening slap in the face, what a horrifyingly awful realization that things can get so much worse so quickly.  I felt the sinking feeling that the niggers had won again, another tradition stolen from whitey and destroyed forever just like they had done to my parents and grandparents.

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