BESIEGED PATRIOT
Autobiographical episodes exposing Communism, Traitorism and
Zionism from the life of
GERALD L. K. SMITH
EPISODE 52
Autobiographical episodes exposing Communism, Traitorism and
Zionism from the life of
GERALD L. K. SMITH
EPISODE 52
TALMADGE, LONG AND SMITH
Shortly after the death of Huey Long, the anti-Roosevelt elements
tried to merge in the South in order to resist the tyranny of the Fascist/Communist New Deal. One of the leaders of this movement was the
illustrious Governor of Georgia, Gene Talmadge, a man of color, character and courage. The combination of opposition to Mr. Roosevelt covered
a wide area. Some of the people were against Roosevelt because he had
done too much for the people theoretically, and some, like Huey Long,
were against him because he had 'pretended' to help the people, but had
served hypocritically and had not done basically enough. This meant
that in this movement were a wide variety of liberals, moderates, progressives and reactionaries.
Huey Long had advocated the fact that there was enough liberty in
the Constitution of the United States to serve the American people the
best without embracing any foreign ideologies, or any brain trust
theories. He was willing to have our people live in the tradition of Jefferson, Jackson and Lincoln and the rest. His theory of "Share the
Wealth" was misrepresented by his enemies. He was referring to the
great wealth that was in the ground in Louisiana and elsewhere, which
was being exhausted, taken out and leaving nothing on top the ground
for show for its previous existence. Forests were denuded, mines were
stripped, gas and oil wells were emptied, and it shared no wealth with
the people on top of the ground who were still left in ignorance and in
helpless despair.
A meeting was called in Macon, Georgia, to be addressed by the
representatives of the leading anti-Roosevelt following. I was chosen as
a speaker because I was to represent the Huey Long following, not only
in the South, but in the United States. Before his death, I was in the
business of travelling all over America, laying the groundwork to make
him the President of the United States; and as alluded to elsewhere, the
most brilliant politician of the generation, Jim Farley, in his Memoirs
said (although he was Roosevelt's mentor): "If Huey Long had not been
assassinated, he would have been elected President of the United States
in 1936."
The day of the meeting approached, and as usual, I was surrounded by
a great coterie of strong, intelligent, active and dedicated young men
who were not afraid of anything. The main session of the meeting was
being broadcast over a nationwide network. (There was no television
then.) As the program progressed, the word got out that enemies of mine
within the network, as well as the reactionary clique, were determined
that I should not be allowed to speak until the radio time had run out, so
that I would not be heard by a nation-wide audience, but I would only be
heard by the local audience in the auditorium.
The little timid chairman, either by corruption or intimidation had
yielded to this pressure and was a part of the plot, and the plot leaked
into the ears of one of my most fearless and brilliant helpers. During the
program while we were still on the air, my friend walked over to the
chairman and said: "If you don't introduce Gerald L. K. Smith during
the nation-wide radio broadcast, these men who are sitting with me,
together with myself, will push you into the orchestra pit." This turned
the trick, and I was introduced in time to be heard by a nation-wide
audience.
Sequel: I had many experiences in Georgia. I spoke in over a hundred
places. I was rioted, mobbed and rotten-egged, but still greeted with
great enthusiastic audiences. When eggs are thrown at a speaker, they
are usually thrown by someone who has been paid to do it, and no matter
how convincing a speaker might be to the audience, they still have to
throw the eggs in order to get the money.
EPISODE 53
WESTBROOK PEGLER
Until shortly before his death, Westbrook Pegler was one of the three
highest paid syndicated columnists in the United States of America. He
was followed by the most responsible citizens in the Nation who were
opposed to Communism, New Dealism Socialism and political demagoguery. He dipped his pen in 'carbolic acid,' and he was ruthless
with his enemies.
In the early days Mr. Pegler supported Mr. Roosevelt and hated
Senator Huey P. Long. He did not hesitate to exconate Mr. Long with a
vocabulary that only he knew how to exercise. This created a feud
between Mr. Pegler and Mr. Long even though later Mr. Pegler repented
and became one of my best personal friends.
During the days of the feud, the State University of Louisiana was
scheduled to play the University of Tennessee. Tennessee was losing all
of its games and anticipated a very small crowd, which would keep their
budget in the red. A spokesman for the University (it may have been the
President) called Mr. Long and said: "If you will attend the game
personally on the day it is scheduled, people will fill the stadium just to
see you, and that will help us to balance our budget even though we
know our team will lose, but otherwise we will have practically no
attendance."
Mr. Long laid down an ultimatum. He said: "Your daily newspaper
carries a column by a man who does nothing but exconate me. His name
is Westbrook Pegler. If you can persuade the editor to drop his column
from his paper I'll come to Tennessee and help to pull you out of the
hole."
They agreed to the ultimatum and Mr. Long attended the game. The
stadium was filled, because at that time he was the most interesting
public figure in America. Not only did he attend football games, but he
was a scientific student of the game and frequently the coach of the
University of Louisiana would come off the field and up to the place
where Mr. Long was seated and consult with him concerning certain
plays and strategies, and his advice was usually very practical.
Time passed, and it dawned on Mr. Pegler that he had been supporting
the wrong people. Some years before he died, he said to a mutual friend
of mine: "The greatest mistake I made was not to embrace Gerald L. K.
Smith twenty-five years ago."
He and Mrs. Pegler visited with Mrs. Smith and myself in Los
Angeles, and we visited them in their place of retirement in Tucson,
Arizona. One time I arranged for him to speak in the Hollywood Woman's Club, and it created quite a sensation among the news media and others when they found out that Mr. Pegler was not ashamed to profess
his personal friendship and admiration for me in public.
Mr. Pegler put his life on the line when he wrote a column exposing
the tyranny and the chicanery of the Jewish Anti-Defamation League.
This put him on the liquidation list, and it wasn't too long before he was
removed from all the big newspapers who had been receiving his column. He was the victim of the tyranny of the Jew.
EPISODE 54
BIG TENT FIRE
One day when I had occasion to be in St. Louis, Missouri, I was called
on by two preachers, one from Denver, Colorado, and the other from
Kansas City. The Kansas City preacher, whose name I have forgotten,
informed me that he was presiding over a big religious gathering in the
park in Kansas City. It was not a revival meeting. It was one of those
beautiful summer gatherings where people come from far and near to sit
under a big tent in a park and enjoy lectures, sermons and music. I was
urged to come to make the principal address atone of these gatherings in
the Kansas City Park. I asked the preacher if he realized how controversial I was and that terrific forces would likely be mobilized against me in
an attempt to either cancel the engagement or break up the meeting. He
and his preacher friend from Denver insisted that they were not afraid of
anything and would not take no for an answer. I agreed to appear.
The day of the meeting came. We arrived in Kansas City and I
registered at the historic Muehlebach Hotel. A man of substance and
prominence met us there and made himself and his car available to us.
He was a high-toned man, beautifully dressed, and drove a beautiful
Cadillac car. The reader will forgive me if l depart from the theme long
enough to recite a very memorable incident. We went into the grill to
have some food as the guests of our host. He was wearing a beautiful
white silk suit. It was the kind of suit that men like to wear in hot
weather, but it was a thin suit it was a very expensive suit. We
placed our order and we hadn't any more than been seated at the table
when the waitress came and in passing him tipped over a dish with a
substantial quantity of red spaghetti dressing. It ran from his shoulder,
down his side, over his beautiful silk suit. Naturally, I wondered how he
would react. He reacted with kindness and patience. He urged the girl
not to worry, and although she felt so bad she wanted to quit and go
home, he encouraged her to stay, and he told her she must forget it. It
was one of the most beautiful demonstrations of compassionate patience
under a trying circumstances that I have ever seen.
We then went out to the big tent, and the place was packed, but it was
surrounded by pickets who were hooting and cat-calling and muttering
profane words against me. We drove past the tent, because it was not
safe for me to get out and just walk in. They sent word into the committee, and they came down with about 15 strong looking men and met us at
a filling station and walked with us up to the tent. When I arose to speak
the hecklers on the outside began to scream and yell, but they were
silenced by some pretty strong men who had charge of the meeting.
After I had spoken a few minutes, one of the most sensational things
ever to happen occured in this meeting. One of these hecklers had made
a fire bomb and had thrown it up on top of the tent, and the tent caught
fire! The men in charge immediately began to climb the tent pole with
extinguishers, and, believe it or not, I was able to hold the audience from
moving until the men had climbed the poles and extinguished the blaze.
Some of the news observers were kind enough to say that it was the most
sensational psychological control of an audience that they had ever
witnessed, because under normal circumstances the audience would
have panicked and run out. They remained and I finished my address to
an audience which must have numbered between 1500 and 2500.
One of the heckling villains rushed down the aisle in an attempt to
molest me, but was stopped by an usher who unfortunately was so
overwhelmed that he took out his pocket knife and punched a hole in the
heckler's stomach. He was taken to prison, and some of us had to bail
him out, and he was subjected to a reasonable sentence which did not
include imprisonment. There was not much sympathy among the witnesses for people who were trying to burn down a tent with hundreds of
people under it.
EPISODE 55
EGGS IN VILLA RICA
I was in the midst of a speaking campaign in the State of Georgia
during the lifetime of Huey Long. I spoke over a hundred times in
Georgia, which meant that I would speak six to twelve times a day,
beginning at milk-stands at 7 o'clock in the morning. I came in to a little
village called Villa Rica which at that time was a mill town and perhaps
still is. It was my custom to jump out of the car and run up and down the
street and invite people to come to a meeting, even though it had been
advertised in advance by circulars.
A few days earlier a young man had called on me at the Ansley Hotel
in Atlanta, Georgia, and in wide-eyed integrity, he said: "Mr. Smith, I'd
like to go with you some time." I said: "Be here at 5 a.m. tomorrow, and
you can go with me."
He took me up on it and met me for a 5 o'clock breakfast all dressed up
with dignity and neatness.
When we arrived at Villa Rica and I began to run around telling
people about the meeting, I came to a house where a tall thin man,
covered with cotton mill lint, was sitting on the porch. He said to me:
"Are you the man who is going to speak?" And I said: "Yes." He said: "I
guess you know what they are going to do to you." I said: "What are they
going to do to me?" He replied: "They're going to egg you."
"Well, I said, "we'll deal with that when the time comes."
I went back to the main street of the little town and instructed the
man operating the sound truck to put the microphone in front of the
nicest building so that if they did throw eggs at me and miss me, the eggs
would hit the building, and the owner of the store would be, in a sense, on
my side. I spoke to what was a large audience for that little town, and
they cheered me to the echo, and they agreed with everything that I said,
because all of the common people were for Huey Long when they heard
what he stood for.
After I finished, I said to myself: "There may be troublemakers here
that have been hired to do me injury, so I'll just step into this restaurant
for a few minutes." I took my young friend with me who had wanted to
travel with me. We had a cup of coffee. After he had consumed his coffee,
he said to me: "Mr. Smith, I believe I'll go out and put out circulars." I
didn't warn him, because I thought to myself, if he discovers anything he
will never discover it any younger. He went out into the street and sure
enough, the people who had been hired to throw eggs at us thought it
was me, and they began to cover him with eggs. When they got through
he looked like a gigantic 'human omelet.' It was both pitiful and amusing, because he had put on his best suit, and he was completely covered
with drooling, dripping egg yolks and egg whites. They moved in next on
our automobile, which was a blue-green Chevrolet, and you can imagine
how eggs looked on that Chevrolet, especially when they were thrown by
the hundreds. The same treatment was given to our sound truck.
The reader might wonder why this hostility. Huey Long was gaining
in popularity so rapidly that he had frightened the Roosevelt machine,
and the Roosevelt Democrats who feared the rise of Huey Long's influence and power were determined to shut us off wherever they could.
They could hire people to throw eggs at us and heckle us, but they
couldn't hire the public to be against us. The crowds I addressed were
invariably for us after I had spoken and told them what we stood for.
Sequel No. 1: In Darlington, South Carolina, I spoke on the Court
House Square, standing on top of the sound truck! The people were
listening with cheering appreciation when suddenly I felt something
strike my foot. I looked down and it was an egg. I didn't say anything
about it, and pretty soon another egg whizzed by my face, missing me, and striking the local police officer in the center of his chest. It was a
Saturday afternoon and he was wearing his best uniform. This really
angered him, and soon he and the agencies of law enforcement were on
my side. I finished my speech, took the names and addresses of those who
wanted literature, and as we drove out of town I looked up the street and
this police officer was still chasing that egg thrower.
Sequel No. 2: In McRae, Georgia, I was scheduled to speak on Main
Street, but the man who owned the undertaking parlor and the ambulance was against me. He drove his ambulance up beside our sound
truck, and every time I opened my mouth he stepped on the siren.
Naturally, I could not be heard. The people were very upset. One man, a
great admirer of Huey Long, who had come in several miles to hear the
speech, was so upset that he almost went into hysterics. He jumped up
and down and screamed and yelled and threatened to do physical harm
to the man who owned the ambulance.
I have never been one for revenge. I believe the Bible where it says:
"Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." But some of the young
men who were associated with me would not embrace that philosophy,
and for months thereafter they would stop at the edge of McRae, Georgia, and put in false alarms, and they ran that ambulance man ragged,
calling in false alarms on the highways surrounding the little town. I
would never advise this sort of thing. For one who has been abused,
persecuted and subjected to character assassination in his public career,
I have never wasted one minute, or one moment, or one nickel on
revenge. I am a great believer in that Bible verse: "Vengeance is mine, I
will repay, saith the Lord."
We left Villa Rica with our egg-covered automobile and our egg covered sound truck, and my new friend who looked like a human
omelet. We went down to a brook, washed off the car and the sound
truck, but when we reached the next village my new friend who by this
time had lost his nerve said: "I believe, Mr. Smith, I'll go back to
Atlanta."
This young man who thought crusading for the truth was an entertaining adventure soon discovered that if you stand for truth which is
dangerous enough to the enemy, you must be willing to pay with your
life. There hasn't been a time in my public career when I would not have
traded my life for death rather than to compromise high principles.
EPISODE 56
CURSED BY THE RECTOR
I was scheduled to speak in Baltimore, Maryland, at one of the important auditoriums. The most outstanding Episcopal Rector of that area,
whose name I will not use in consideration of his family, issued a vicious
statement against me before I arrived. He drew on the libel and the
mind washing misrepresentations which had been given to him by the
corrupt press and the Jewish propaganda machine. The auditorium was
packed, and I was received with great enthusiasm. After the meeting a
young man about 20 years of age came down and shook hands with me
and said: "Mr. Smith, my father doesn't like you, but I like you." It
turned out that he was the son of the Rector. I later discovered that the
family was very wealthy and tied in with some of the big corporations of
New York City. I thanked the young man for his congratulations and his
proffered support, and went on to other matters. The experience left my
mind until one day I was walking through the lobby of the Congressional Hotel in Washington, D.C., when I was approached by a young
man several years older than the last time I had met him. He refreshed
my memory, and it turned out that he was the Rector's son. He greeted
me enthusiastically and said: "Mr. Smith, I still agree with you, and I
congratulate you on the hard fight which you have put up against the
enemies of our faith, our race, and our way of life. I would like to support
you, but if l support you, our family would be subjected to great persecution and abuse." I responded by saying: "You are an intelligent man.
You have graduated from several universities. You studied in Europe.
You are deep in your study of the nuclear sciences. Why don't you do
some research for me? Why don't you go into the libraries and come out
with the historic truth necessary to establish my position in this campaign to preserve Christian civilization?"
He gave me, what I thought was an indifferent agreement. But some
years later I was to be greatly surprised. He contacted me and said: "Mr.
Smith, I took your advice. I have established research headquarters in
England, Europe, New York and Washington, D.C., and I have established myself in a suite of rooms in a Washington hotel. I have gone into
the libraries of the world and have come up with photostatic copies
which have cost me something over $400,000.00, and I am prepared to
make microfilms of these documents for your library." I was shocked,
amazed and inspired, and today I have over 12,000 microfilms supporting by historical record the fundamental value of the theme of my life.
EPISODE 57
'ASCIFIDITY' (FIDDY FOR SHORT)
As we toured the country, we knew that we could be arrested at any
moment by some trumped-up charge and cited by some corrupt judge
and denied bond or bail. When the Jews and Communists in general
mobbed us in Chicago, as discussed elsewhere in this book, they organized a boycott of the bondsmen, and I was unable to get a bond from a
professional bondsman, the same bondsmen that bail out rapists, bandits, burglars, etc. It was a matter of rare luck that I had the confidence
and friendship of the owner of a great hotel who went into the cash
register of his hotel and got $2500.00 in currency which I was able to use
for bond money when they tried to imprison me in Chicago.
This was an omen. It gave us a warning, so we decided to store up
enough legal tender and carry it with us to meet even an extreme
demand which might be made upon us by some judge, corrupted and
operating under the dictates of our enemies. We rolled together and
folded up in a little package $12,000.00 in cash. It couldn't be left in the
car, and we couldn't carry it in a purse, so Mrs. Smith wrapped it in a
little packet, attached it to a neck chain, and it hung below her neckline.
For years we carried a packet of cash in that manner to meet any sort of
an emergency that might arise which could not be handled without cash.
The old timers who are reading this book will remember from their
childhood that mothers would make up a little packet of herbs known as
"ascifidity." This little packet of"ascifidity" hung around the neck was
supposed to ward off colds and contagious diseases and sickness in
general, so Mrs. Smith and I named her little cash packet "ascifidity',''
and then referred to it as "Fiddy" for short. So when we got ready to leave
a hotel room, it was a matter of habit for me to say: "How's Fiddy?" She
would tap her chest and say, "O.K."
We were in Washington, D.C., and had decided to visit an art shop,
because we have been collectors of art and antiques all of our married
life. We took a taxicab to the place where we wanted to shop, and after
we had arrived in the shop I turned to Mrs. Smith and said: "How's
Fiddy?" Lo, and behold, she had forgotten to attach it, and she gave me
the alarming report, which also alarmed her, and said: "I left it on the
bed."
We had horrible pictures of that little packet being gone when we
returned, but no one had been in the room, not even the maid, and the
little packet was still there and we breathed a sigh of relief. It was
several years before we felt safe to travel in America without "Fiddy."
EPISODE 58
SENATOR'S WIDOW RECEIVES US
U.S. Senator Ernest Lundeen of Minnesota was a member of the
United States Senate in the early 40's when the warmongers were
organizing their big campaign to get us into a war that we didn't want,
World War II. Those of us who were opposed to it were not pro-Nazi or
pro-Russian. We believed that the two great powers should be pitted
against each other-that we should not make of Russia a powerful
Frankenstein as we did. She is still a Frankenstein. For this we were
cursed, smeared and branded with all sort of epithetic terms beyond
anything that this generation can imagine. One of the leaders in the
campaign to avoid the war was Senator Lundeen. He was married to a
beautiful woman-in fact, an eloquent and personable individual, respected and honored by everyone she knew in Washington, D.C. When
high-toned teas were given and receptions were organized, Mrs. Lundeen was frequently chosen as the hostess because of her beautiful
personality and her gracious manner and her handsome appearance.
One day Senator Lundeen was returning to Washington in an
airplane. The plane blew up and he was killed. There are still many
people who believe he was murdered, but that is a subject in itself.
Time passed, and the campaign was on to bring us into the war, and
we were part of the America First Committee and other anti-war committees were holding meetings and enjoying a popular response. I was
scheduled to speak in Minneapolis, Minnesota, in the public auditorium, which was the most sophisticated place that a public figure
could speak; but when it was announced that I was proposing to speak
under the auspices of the committee, headed by Mrs. Lundeen, the
widow of the great Senator, the Jews and the other warmongers began to
put up a howl. They insisted on a hearing before the City Council. Mrs.
Smith, Mrs. Lundeen and I, together with a committee, appeared before
the City Council to defend our right of free speech in a place paid for by
the taxpayers. The City Council was a big one, with something like 41
members. Our enemies brought in an array of witnesses who were
scrubby, vicious and vile. I wish I had taken a photograph of those
witnesses so that I could refer to my file and remind myself of the vicious
opposition which was given to me on that occasion. Mrs. Lundeen spoke,
and I spoke, and the Council voted 20 to 21 to permit us to use the
auditorium. But just as they were about to adjourn someone spoke up
and said: "There is another witness who would like to speak in opposition to Mr. Smith." The chairman said: "Who is it?" A member of the
Council said: "It is Professor Humphrey." At that time Hubert Humphrey was a professor in a little local college. Down the aisle came young Professor Humphrey. He addressed the Council and used the libel and
misrepresentations which had been used against me everywhere. The
Council still voted 21 to 20 to give me the auditorium. The Council was
about to adjourn when a big rotund, blubbery looking Jew, who might
have walked out of a junk yard, walked down the aisle, walked up on the
platform, whispered into the ear of a member of the City Council, and
that member of the City Council held up his hand and said to the
Chairman: "I would like to change my vote," and when he changed his
vote, it was 21 to 20 against my right to speak in the municipal auditorium.
Later I returned and attempted to speak in a hotel ballroom. My
experience there with a radical mob, encouraged by the man who was
then the Mayor of Minneapolis, Mr. Humphrey, is a matter of detail
taken up in another part of this book.
Sequel: Because of Mr. Humphrey's "courageous" attack on Gerald L.
K. Smith on this occasion, he became the darling of the Minneapolis
Jews. They have been financing him ever since. They made him the
Mayor, and then put him in the United States Senate, and he was their
puppet till the very end.
EPISODE 59
ACCUSED OF KIDNAPPING
It is difficult for the younger generation, or people who are not familiar with the battle of my life, to realize the desperate things which were
done to prevent me from being heard and to discredit my proclamations.
The reason that the enemy was so desperate in attempting to deny me a
forum by keeping me off of radio and television was because, and this
sounds like a boast, but it is the truth, no person has ever heard me
address an audience that I did not capture. A man doesn't have to be too
intelligent to prove that four times four is sixteen, or that ten times ten
is one hundred. The truth that is on my side is so simple and so convincing that no honest man can disagree with me logically. It has to be
through prejudice, or through misrepresentation, or denying me the
right to be heard.
In the early days in Los Angeles, the Jew-owned film industry
mobilized everything they had against me. They coerced the owners of
meeting halls. They coerced the radio. They coerced my friends. I even
had to have my circulars printed on the sly, because they would threaten
and coerce any printer that I might engage.
A news bulletin which specialized in news of the film colony was put
out by a ruthless editor, and one day in his bulletin, believe it or not, appeared this headline: "Gerald L. K. Smith Threatens to Kidnap My
Baby." The story went on to say that two men had rolled up beside him in
a car, jumped out, ran up to him and said: "If you know what is good for
you, you will let Gerald L. K. Smith alone. We work for Gerald L. K.
Smith and unless you stop, something might happen to your baby."
Can you imagine such a lie! Can you imagine such a fabrication!
I immediately called the Police Department of Los Angeles and
showed them the story, and I told them that I had been planning to leave
Los Angeles in a couple of days, but if l did it might create the impression
that I was fleeing the town because of this accusation. The police officer
to whom I spoke was head of the Subversive Squad, and he reassured me
by saying: "Mr. Smith, this man is one of the most ruthless professional
liars in town. We take nothing seriously that he says. You have nothing
to fear. Come and go as you will."
EPISODE 60
LOWELL THOMAS INVITES ME
While President of the Advertising Club of New York, with headquarters on Park Avenue, Lowell Thomas invited me to come from Detroit,
where I lived at that time, and deliver the principal address to their
annual meeting. In announcing my coming, Mr. Thomas wrote in his
bulletin: "Gerald L. K. Smith is the most eloquent and courageous
orator in America." This was before my enemies had completely purged
my right to be associated with prominent and conventional organizations. I spoke for Mr. Thomas, whose Club membership probably buys
two-thirds of the Nation's advertising. I was warmly received and enthusiastically applauded. At that time, Mr. Thomas was the commercial
voice of the Sun Oil Co., and was referred to as the "Voice of Sunoco." He
came to me after the meeting and said: "Gerald, I envy you. You've had
rough going and you've had some vicious enemies, but you are still
Gerald Smith, but I am the voice of Sunoco."
Something very eccentric grew out of this occasion. Some months
before, Mrs. Smith and I were living in a New York Hotel for a period of
time in connection with my research responsibilities and public appearances in the New England area. A man called me up and said he would
like to visit with me. He admired what I was doing. I was more naive
then than I am now, and I said, without further inquiry: "Come by and
have a cup of coffee with me." He did so. We drank coffee in the dining
room, and I noticed that there was another man sitting out in the lobby
waiting for him. Our conversation consisted only of a superficial discussion of the topics of the day, and issues of the day, as they related to my activities. He turned out to be an attorney. I said, "Goodbye," and
dismissed his name and conference from my mind.
When I had finished making the address to the New York Advertising
Club, a man walked up to me (a little Jew lawyer) and said: "I certainly
enjoyed your speech Mr. Smith. Here is something I would like to have
you read when you get back to your hotel." It proved to be a summons. I
was being sued for $1500.00 for failure to pay a legal fee. I knew I had
consulted no attorney in New York. I knew that I owed no legal fees, but
it turned out that it was the man who had had coffee with me, and he had
a man out in the lobby to prove that I was conferring with him as an
attorney. Needless to say, I called up the attorney who processed me and
gave him a piece of my mind and threatened to report him to the Bar
Association, etc. That was the last I ever heard of it.
It is amazing the experiences a controversial figure in public life can
have. I was speaking in Toledo, Ohio, one time, and as I came out of the
auditorium a young man walked up and said: "Mr. Smith, may I take
your picture?" That had been done hundreds of times, but a little later I
received a bill from him with two pictures enclosed for $28.00. I refused
to pay the bill and he threatened to sue me, and I paid off. That was the
last time I consented to have my picture taken in a public place by a
stranger without the written assurance that there would be no charge
for the picture.
Sequel: One of the most exclusive dinner clubs in New York was
known as the Dutch Club, and I was honored by being invited to deliver
the principal address at one of its luncheons in New York City.
EPISODE 61
JOE McCARTHY RALLY
IN
CONSTITUTION HALL
The campaign was on to liquidate U.S. Senator Joseph McCarthy,
because he had exposed the Communists who were inside the Government of the United States, including the State Department and the
Army. The meat-chopping machine of character assassination, libel and
smear moved in upon him. Thousands and millions of people came to his
defense, and a big rally was organized in Washington, D. C., in Constitution Hall. I gave support to this rally. In fact, I was instrumental in
causing many important people to give support to the rally, but I did not
appear publicly because I was a smeared figure, and I felt that Senator
McCarthy had enough trouble without taking on some of my burdens.
Members of my staff and Mrs. Smith and I were registered at the
Mayflower Hotel. We were sitting in the living room of our suite listening to television. Drew Pearson, the muckraker and character assassin
who hated Joe McCarthy with a satanic hate, came on the air. He told
about the coming rally which was being organized to take place that
night. He named the people who would be on the platform and who were
publicized as the committee, but, said Pearson, "The man behind the
scenes is now in Room 911 of the Mayflower Hotel. His name is Gerald L.
K. Smith. He will not be in the meeting, but he is the man behind this
demonstration."
Of course, that was an exaggeration, but Pearson would have been
uncomfortable telling the complete and well-developed truth. Since he
had identified our location to thousands upon thousands of people, and
perhaps millions of people (I think it was a nation-wide network program), we immediately packed up and moved to another hotel. The rally
was carried on and millions of people came to the defense of the fearless
Senator from Wisconsin, who was later completely 'crucified' by
the news media, the television networks, aided and abetted by President
Eisenhower.
An Open Letter From
GERALD L. K. SMITH
DID YOU KNOW?
Dear Friend:
Only a true lover of truth will be interested in this letter. Its contents are
explosive in fact, catastrophic in substance. Only the courageous can
accept the dangerous truth contained herein. Read slowly and absorb
every word because this could be a turning point in your life and it could
be the most important letter ever to come to you through the mails.
DID YOU KNOW that Henry Ford, the great industrialist, spent about $5
million investigating the organized activities of the International Jew and came
up with the conclusion that the organized Jew is in a campaign to rule the world
politically, culturally, religiously, financially and militarily?
DID YOU KNOW that Charles Lindbergh, the most heroic citizen which
America has produced in this century, put his finger on Jewish manipulation
and confirmed the logic of Mr. Ford?
DID YOU KNOW that Colonel John Beaty, one of the top men in Military
Intelligence under Franklin D. Roosevelt, was commissioned to conduct investigations designed to imprison people like myself alert to the Jewish issue?
Instead, Colonel Beaty became my convert and wrote a thick book documenting the whole thesis.
DID YOU KNOW that Senator Jack Tenney while Chairman of the Legislative
Committee on Un-American Activities for the State Legislature of California
(he was on this Committee for twelve years) arrived at the conclusion that Jew
Zionism is a world-wide organization bent on world power and world control?
The brief paragraphs above cannot be ignored. No intelligent man can absorb
their contents without deciding in his own mind that these prominent individuals as well as thousands of other individuals equally as prominent must be
proved false in their conclusions or, failing to prove them false, we must take
very seriously their findings. That's what I have done. I have found out that they
were correct and I dare not ignore the correctness of their viewpoints.
DID YOU KNOW that regardless of any other issues that may arise in the
political and social and cultural life of our nation, the real issue is the conflict
between the dynamic of our civilization-Christianity- and the forces bent on
the destruction of this dynamic?
DID YOU KNOW that Martin Luther, the great Christian reformer, known as
the Father of Protestantism, did a deep research on the Jewish question and
came up with a Handbook for his followers entitled, "The Jew and Their Lies"?
This book by the founder of Protestantism and the leader of the Great Reformation establishes the fact that the same Jewish force which crucified our Lord is
still determined to crucify Christianity. I am the only person in the United
States of America to have reproduced Luther's Handbook.
DID YOU KNOW that 27 Popes issued special edicts warning the Christian
communities of the world of the Jewish conspiracy to overthrow and undermine
the Christian faith? I am the only person in America to have assembled the dates
and the listings of these edicts.
DID YOU KNOW that one of the greatest research students on earth whose
name cannot be used and who holds honorary degrees from seven great universities in the United States and in Europe has assembled some 14,000 photostatic
copies from the Libraries of the world at a cost of at least one-half million dollars
in order that the theme of my life and the theme of this letter may be confirmed
with logic and evidence? I have caused it to be published into a Handbook
entitled "Quotes, Quotes, Quotes" statements mostly by Jews gleaned from
these thousands and thousands of photostatic copies.
DID YOU KNOW that the organized Jews of America have a secret service
organization which operates somewhat like a Gestapo and is known as the
Anti-Defamation League of the B'nai B'rith? This organization carries on a
constant campaign to prevent my being quoted in the press, to veto my right to
broadcast over television and radio and to deny me meeting halls in which to
address my followers. If they had their way, they would deny me the right to
even write you this letter. A Handbook entitles, "The Jewish Anti-Defamation
League and its Use in the World Communist Offensive" has been prepared by a former member of Military Intelligence for the Unites States Government and
this Handbook is in my files and is being made available to my followers.
DID YOU KNOW that Colonel John Beaty, referred to above, top man of
Military Intelligence in World War II under Roosevelt, wrote a research book
entitled "Iron Curtain Over America" confirming the thesis of this letter? The
book contains 267 pages and is cloth bound and the. title of it is "Iron Curtain
Over America." Please be reminded again that Colonel Beaty was commissioned
to gather the evidence necessary to put me in the Federal penitentiary but
wound up as my disciple and vowed to write this book when he returned to
Southern Methodist University after the war, to resume his duties as Dean of
the English Department.
DID YOU KNOW that organized Jewry boasted (after he was dead) that the
purging of Senator Joseph McCarthy was the result of their highly organized
efforts?
DID YOU KNOW that General Douglas MacArthur was the victim of Jewish
opposition? The largest Jewish journals in America branded General MacArthur as an American Hitler and then proceeded to smear him and undermine his
reputation. He came to Los Angeles to celebrate his birthday and delivered a
great address extolling the political doctrine of Christian Nationalism. In a
similar address in Houston, Texas he glorified the Cross and the Flag as the two
most dynamic and significant symbols.
DID YOU KNOW that the form of government in the United States has been
converted from a Constitutional Republic to an Elective Monarchy? The most
sober-minded and conservative journalists in Europe are now referring to the
American form of government as a Monarchy on the theory that the President of
the United States has seized the Treasury and has now corrupted the states, the
counties, the cities, the Congress, the schools, the hospitals, and the colleges.
These institutions all pant for money and know that if they disobey the President they will lose it. I have just produced what could turn out to be one of the
most sensational manuscripts ever to come off the press entitled: "A Constitutional Republic Becomes a Dictatorship." This manuscript could cost me my
liberty. It could put me behind bars. But, it is the truth.
DID YOU KNOW that Scotland Yard made a thorough survey of the rise of
Bolshevism and Communism and made an official report? It was so sensational
that it was buried and no one was permitted to see it outside an inner circle. A
copy was buried in the Archives in Washington and it was identified as classified
material, making it a criminal offense to publish it. Thanks to the constructive
infiltration of an American patriot, the document was lifted out of the classified
file and declassified legally. The substance of this report is summarized by the
following sentence. "There is now definite evidence that Bolshevism is an
international movement controlled by Jews." We have reproduced this report,
including the reproduction of the Government seal and the reproduction of the
signature of the Keeper of the Archives.
DID YOU KNOW that American Military Intelligence made a complete investigation of the rise of world Communism beginning with the Russian Revolution? This report was buried in the Archives and no one was permitted to see it
until very recently when it was transferred from the classified file to the
unclassified file. This report reveals that of something like 325 commissars,
nearly 300 of them were Jews and approximately 260 of these who journeyed to
Russia to become commissars came from the United States; most of them came
from the Lower East side of New York City. Unbelievable, isn't it? Well, I have a
photostatic copy of that American Intelligence report which I have reproduced.
DID YOU KNOW that in the beginning days of this Crusade, two of my
heaviest contributors were Henry Ford, Sr. and one of the substantial gifts came
from Colonel Charles Lindbergh, the American hero? These and other men of
character and substance were anxious to see this truth go out across the face of
the earth. As referred to above, Mr. Ford spent some $5 million on research and
assembled a report entitled "The International Jew". The Jews advertised to the
world that Mr. Ford apologized for this report, but the apology was later revealed as a hoax when an important individual in Mr. Ford's circle confessed
that he collaborated with Jewish authorities in New York and had forged Mr.
Ford's signature to the so-called apology I have reproduced this report which Mr.
Ford assembled and it documents the theme of this letter. It is one of the most
sensational revelations ever to fall into the hands of men who really love truth.
DID YOU KNOW that organized Jewry has set out to make it a criminal offense
to glorify the name of Christ in our American institutions? When our pro Communist Supreme Court ruled that devotions in schoolhouses were unlawful
the Jews confessed that 66 of their organizations furnished the money and paid
the lawyers necessary to bring about the Christ-hating edict. Recently a diagnosis of the decisions of the Supreme Court of the United States was made by lf.
S. Senator Eastland, Chairman of the Judiciary Committee of the United States
Senate. This chart reveals that the Supreme Court has decided favorable to
Communism 77% of the time. This chart has been reproduced.
DID YOU KNOW that the so-called riots in Los Angeles were organized
guerrilla riots- organized in the pattern of VietNam and other areas where
ruthless half-savages are being taught to terrorize white people and destroy
property and burn cities? One of the most publicized leaders of the Black
revolution recently said: "The great cities of America must burn". I have made a
survey of this Los Angeles riot and reproduced it and it is available. It contains
53 observations shocking and unbelievable and documented.
DID YOU KNOW that under the leadership of certain Jews the slums of our
great cities are being organized into revolutionary mechanisms? And did you
know that the Communists have already made a map of what they consider will
be the area to be carved out of the United States territory to become a 'Black
Republic'? This map is in the files of the House Committee on Un-American
Activities. Before it was put into the files, I made a photostatic copy and the
photostatic copy of this Black Republic map is available.
DID YOU KNOW that an organization has been formed known as the Christian Nationalist Crusade committed to the preservation of our Constitutional Republic, the liberty of our Christian faith, racial self-respect, individual and political
sovereignty? This Crusade exerts an influence beyond the understanding of the
average observer. It is reported that this Crusade has influenced the formation
of and the expansion of nearly 2,000 right wing movements in the U.S.A. and in
the world. This has been done because people on the order of those who receive
this letter have donated money with which to enlighten and inspire and mobilize
men and women of character and self-respect.
DID YOU KNOW that The Cross and The Flag is the official organ of the
Christian Nationalist Crusade, which is a National Political Committee, maintaining regular contacts with the Members of the Congress of the United States
and one of the two most important factors in the campaign to prevent the
diplomatic recognition of Red China in the United Nations and in the United
States?
DID YOU KNOW that Lyndon B. Johnson when persuading Arthur Goldberg
to surrender his seat in the Supreme Court to Abe Fortas-did you know that
Johnson said to Goldberg: "You can be my Vice-President candidate in 1968,
thus putting you in line to be the first Jewish President of the United States in
1972?" I have documented this fact and reproduced it.
DID YOU KNOW it is alleged that the most powerful Jews in the world
assembled in a secret meeting about 65 years ago and made up the blueprint for
their campaign for world power? This secret plan was spirited out of the meetings by an enterprising investigator and reproduced. It first appeared in the
Western world in the London Museum and was translated by an enterprising
contributing editor for the London Post, Victor Marsden. The title of the report is
"The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion:' The Jews and others have branded
this as a forgery, but men of great character and competence insist that it is not a
forgery. In fact, Mr. Ford said: "It fits what is going on". In over half the world it
is a crime punishable by death to be caught with a copy of the Protocols in one's
possession. Even in the United States, any print shop that reproduces it is in
danger of being blown up. Any individual who distributes it is subject to the
harassment of the Jewish secret service machine known as the Anti-Defamation
League. Even so, I have reproduced it.
EPISODE 62
SENTENCED TO PRISON
ALMOST KILLED
The conspiracy of my enemies in the City of Chicago was to lock me in
the County Jail on some trumped up charge, and then hire some savage
criminal, preferably a black, to slaughter me while I was waiting trial.
Failing in that, they attempted to kill me by burning the hotel in which was registered. Failing to do that, they hoped to destroy me with lawsuits and tedious court actions. These trickeries were to be mixed with
lynch mob riots, character assassination and libel.
The Jewish Sentinel, the largest English language Jewish newspaper
in America and perhaps the largest Jewish newspaper in any language
said: "We shall drive Gerald L. K. Smith and his followers into the
sewers of Chicago. We will not permit them to meet where decent people
gather."
Now for the details. I spoke many times in Chicago in places like
Orchestra Hall, The Stevens Hotel Ballroom, and the Morrison Hotel.
One year I addressed 30,000 people in a city park. These audiences were
always with me. They rose enthusiastically to the high principles I
enunciated. My enemies realized that I could not be stopped if I were
allowed to live and speak.
The time came when I was scheduled to speak at the Westside Woman's Club. The meeting was highly advertised. The chairman was
Maximillian St. George, one of the most outstanding and highly respected attorneys in the City of Chicago. Mrs. Smith and I and my staff
checked into the Blackstone Hotel, one of the most conservative and
highly respected places to stay.
While we were preparing to go out to the meeting, the telephone rang.
On the telephone was our faithful secretary, Renata Legant, who was
always on the job, feared nothing, and was and is the personification of
loyalty. No person associated with me today was with me during those
lethal life-and-death experiences in that period of my life, which I
frequently refer to as the violent period, except Miss Legant, who is still
my secretary, but for some years has been married to a fine citizen by the
name of Rex R. Martz. The reader should be reminded that the name
Martz is Germanic, not Jewish. It ends with a "z" not an "x." It is
important that the reader know this.
In the conversation Miss Legant said: "They are planning to riot. There
is a big picket line of rough looking people. They are throwing objects at
the people who are going into the meeting." I responded by saying:
"We'll soon be there."
When Mrs. Smith and I got to the West Side Woman's Club the
environment was very ominous. It was vibrating like a hurricane. As we
entered we were taunted with vile language, profane epithets and physical threats. We had two preliminary speakers, and when I stood up to
speak the audience cheered to the echo. The people had been admitted
with tickets, handed out only to those who were inclined to be sympathetic to what we were doing. As indicated elsewhere in this book, this
system had to be employed because otherwise the enemy would pack the
meeting hall early so that the regular people could not get in. We
learned that lesson in Boston when they packed the Old South Church.
During the meeting the storm began. Windows were knocked out. The
building was showered with stink bombs. Objects were thrown at our
people, including potatoes in which razor blades had been buried.
The police were aware of the danger, and a large number of police
guarded the place. When it came time for Mrs. Smith, Miss Legant and
me to leave, the police were at the stage entrance with numbers of
uniformed men. They loaded us into an automobile, in front and behind
in cars were policemen with sawed-off shotguns. We were driven under
police protection, as though we were in a war zone, back to the
Blackstone Hotel.
In the meantime street fighting began. Numbers of my followers were
involved who had been hit, injured and heckled as they went out of the
meeting, and the matter became the subject of front-page publicity in
the Chicago newspapers.
The enemy had failed to injure me physically or kill me, as they had
hoped. When I awoke after a short night's sleep, I picked up the morning
paper and discovered that I was to be arrested for inciting a riot, although the rioting activities had started long before I reached the
meeting place. The police came to the hotel and took me down to police
headquarters for citation. It seemed like all the newspapermen and
camera men in the world were there. I stepped up to the police department window and made bond. Then it was that a satanic trick was
played upon me. The police department permitted camera men to get
inside the police office behind the barred windows through which the
cash was handed. The window was barred like it might have been in a
bank, or any other place that handled money. They then took that
picture, and when they took the picture of me standing in front of the
cashier's window, the bars showed up in the picture as though I were in
prison.
I went through all the red tape of submitting myself to the authorities,
and the day of the trial was set. Much was made of the publicity, and I
was advertised to the world as a criminal. It is amazing how many of my
so-called friends and relatives evaporated during those days, but in my
files were the names of loyal supporters who have stood with me through
thick and thin and are still standing with me. The people who have
supported me as Director of the Christian Nationalist Crusade have
constituted my secret weapon. They have never been affected by smear,
character assassination or libelous publicity. I will not resurrect the
names of the two men who were arrested with me, because these two
people have faded out into obscurity, and there is no need of resurrecting
their names for new publicity.
The trial proceeded and as it was about to open under the auspices of a
Judge who was so corrupt and prostituted that he almost smelled like a
garbage can. The attorney for the City of Chicago came over and spoke to my attorney, Mr. St. George, and said: "If Mr. Smith would plead guilty,
this could be settled with a small fine, plus court costs." My attorney
came and reported to me and I said: "Regardless of how small the fine, I
will plead guilty to nothing, because I am guilty of nothing."
Later I released a statement to the press to the effect that regardless of how far I had to carry the case into the higher courts, I would not pay one nickel to the corrupt government of Chicago which was trying to deny me the right of free speech.
Immediately the riot trial was recessed, and I was arrested for what the Judge called "contempt of court," and I was haled before this corrupt Judge to be abused and sentenced. It was announced that I would be arraigned and sentenced the next day.
We returned to the hotel in which we were staying known as the LaSalle, one of the landmarks of the City of CHicago, and then it was owned, believe it or not, by Mr. Avery Brundage, the man who for years had been the dominant personality in the world-wide Olympic games. Mr. Brundage was friendly to me, and all the members of his staff were friendly to me, and in staying in the hotel with my staff, I felt that we were living in as safe a place as we could have been in at that time in Chicago. Although we were well treated at the Blackstone, we did not feel a sense of safety there that we did at the LaSalle. Furthermore, the LaSalle was within walking distance of the court house. Mr. St. George had retained an assistant, whose name I shall not use, who posed as my friend and took time to come to the hotel at night and assure me that he would take care of the bond, and that I had nothing to fear. Even that visit aroused my suspicion, but in a few minutes he returned saying, "I just came back to reassure you that you have nothing to worry about when it comes to making bond in court tomorrow." This matured my suspicion, and I turned to Mrs. Smith and said: "That proves that we'll have to lay our hands on the cash, because I am convinced that the bond business in this city is a Jewish monopoly and not one Jew will go my bond in this court hearing."
I went down to the assistant manager at the LaSalle and said: "I'm going to need at least $2500.00," although my sincere lawyer Mr. St. George had said, "Don't worry Mr. Smith, it would be impossible and unprecedented for them to set a bond of more than $500.00." The cashier said: "We don't have that much money on hand, but we'll have many check outs before you go to court tomorrow morning, and I will try to set aside $2500.00 in currency."
When morning came, we found that he had kept his word and handed the $2500.00 over to Mrs. Smith in exchange for a check, and she put it in her purse.
We went to the court room. I was called before the Judge, and again I don't want to say anything that would sound blasphemous in relating my experience to that of our Lord Jesus Christ, but I would be dishonest if I did not say that as I walked up to that Judge's bench in that court room filled with Jews and radical enemies whose mouths were watering for my liquidation, I felt that I understood what my Saviour passed through in Pilate's court. The Judge was not a Jew, but he was the prostitute of the Jews, just as was Pilate. He knew our Lord was innocent, but didn't have the political courage to resist the political pressure of the Sanhedrin and their controlled population.
First he lectured the court concerning what a bad, evil and dangerous man I was. I doubt if Al Capone, when haled before the Judge that sentenced him, was excoriated worse than I was excoriated. After an exchange of arguments between my attorney and the attorney for the city, he sentenced me to two months in the Cook county Jail. That was all it would have taken to get me killed. My opposition to mongrelization and compulsory integration made it easy for my enemies to incite black killer militants against me. They knew that they could count on some black who would murder me through his own choice, or who could be purchased with Jew money to slaughter me in jail.
My lawyer stepped to the Judge's bench and announced that he would appeal the case, but the Judge, under some technicality, denied the appeal. Then my attorney out of the clear sky, who later told me that he just couldn't realize how he happened to think of that little technicality, pleaded for whatever it meant with the word ''mandamus'; which compelled the Judge to grant the extension. But he said it would be necessary to make bond.
My attorney had been deceived by this individual who said that he would come up with the bond. He did not appear. Mr. St. George walked up to the Judge's bench and said: "The man who is arranging for the bond should be here shortly." And the Judge with impatient contempt said: "We don't have time to wait, turn him over to the sheriff and lock him in the County Jail."
Then it was that I whispered into the ear of Mr. St. George and said: "Mrs. Smith has the cash." And he answered saying: "Oh, my God." He then walked up to the bench and said: "We're prepared to make cash bond." The lawyers began to argue over how much the bond would be. The Judge and the City Attorney insisted that it should be $5,000.00. When the word $3,000.00 was uttered Mrs. Smith later revealed that her heart sunk within her, but by some miraculous stroke of providence, the Judge, after the arguments, set my bond at $2500.00.
Before the bond was set, the deputy sheriff walked up to take hold of my arm, and I responded with my natural reflex by saying: "Don't you dare touch me." Instinctively he withdrew. By this time the cash was ready to make the bond and he was not authorized to touch me. I was instructed to go into a side room to make the bond and a watery-mouthed bailiff, seeking to satisfy his masters who had conspired against me, said to Mrs. Smith: "This is one place you can't go with your husband." It so happened that a young reporter for the Chicago Tribune (the largest daily newspaper in America) was there. He turned to this bailiff and began to curse him and said: "If you keep Mrs. Smith out of that bail-making room, you'll get your picture in the morning paper, and how," and he withdrew. We went into the bond-making room, or whatever it was, and Mrs. Smith reached into her purse and took out $2500.00 in cash.
Let the reader be advised that every day in Chicago hundreds and thousands upon thousands of dollars' worth of bonds are made for the most vicious criminals in the world, but the bail bond in Chicago, as in most cities, is controlled by the Jews, and here was a good Christian American fighting for free speech who could not even get a bond and had to dig up his own cash!
Elsewhere in this book is a chapter entitled "Fiddy". I won't give you the definition of that word here, but in that chapter is explained that thereafter we never went into any great city or on a speaking tour without a well wrapped package of plenty of cash, so that in case of an arrest or false accusation we could make bond without having to depend upon our enemies.
The press had grabbed the sentence "two months in the Cook County Jail," and when the message came over the radio so that my aged mother and father could hear it, it said: "Gerald Smith is now in the Cook County Jail," and there are undoubtedly thousands of people who still think that I served a term in the Cook County Jail. If they knew what I know, they would know that if l had ever served a term in the Cook County Jail I would never have come out alive. The plot was to murder me, and I won't take the time to develop the evidence to support that theory in this discussion.
Only a few days after I had been cited by the night court judge, I issued a statement concerning the corrupt judiciary and branded this judge as an agent of my Communist enemies. After the riot trial was in progress and the contempt trial was in progress, I was served a paper which indicated that I was being sued for $100,000.00 libel by the judge whom I had attacked, so there they had me tied up: two trials and a libel suit, with the newspapers and the Jew mind washing machine running me every day through their "sausage grinder" of smear and character assassination.
We met the libel suit and lost, but appealed it to a higher court and won. We lost the riot trial, and it was appealed to the State Supreme Court, and again we lost. It was appealed to the United States Supreme Court. In those days we still had some semblance of a Supreme Court and, thank God, we won in the Supreme Court and the riot sentence was reversed.
For the benefit of research students interested in this incident will say that the riot trial had to do with another one of the speakers, whose name I shall not use. The theory was that if this was won, the sentence would stand for all of us, and if it was lost the sentence would be dismissed for all of us.
Remember, I could have settled for a few hundred dollars if I had pleaded guilty; but if I had been given a $50,000.00 bonus, or more, I would not have pleaded guilty, because I was not guilty of anything, and I have never been guilty of any crime. So we carried it through the courts. When it was all wound up it cost me something between $25,000.00 and $30,000.00. One can imagine what the expense of this was to me.
Now back to the Chicago drama. While I was waiting for the unfolding of the court cases in Chicago, we continued, together with my staff, to stay at the LaSalle Hotel. That included Mrs. Smith, my secretary Miss Legant, and others who were associated with me for physical protection. We had taken a suite in the hotel, and the reader can imagine how much all of this was costing me-hotel bills, lawyers fees, court records, etc., etc.
The Jews and other enemies had not given up the idea of killing me. The reason that they were so desperately against me was that God had given me an usual gift of speech, and there is no enemy nor friend who can cite one instance where I have addressed a large audience, or any sized audience of people, that I did not carry the audience with me. My enemies knew that the only way they could keep me from convincing America concerning the correctness of my position was to kill me, or so assassinate my character that for all practical purposes I would be liquidated. In fact, enough things have been done to liquidate me one hundred times. People who know some of the things which I have gone through express surprise when they see me walking around alive and free.
The press called on me and asked me how long I was going to be in the LaSalle, and I told them that I was going to be there all week. But I failed to tell them I was going to be gone for 24 hours, because I had a speaking engagement in Cleveland, Ohio. This was perhaps one of the most providential pieces of information I had ever put out. It was incorrect, but it may have saved my life, because the day I was gone a flash fire broke out in the LaSalle Hotel, and the center of the flames was in the rooms and the suite which had been occupied by Mrs. Smith and myself and my staff. I believe that the hotel was set on fire for the purpose of murdering me. And anyone who has known me through the years knows that I do not have any symptoms of paranoia. I don't look under rugs and behind pictures and develop the superstition that every time I take down the telephone that it is tapped. I am not that sort of an individual, but I am intelligent enough to know that when a man sticks a gun in my stomach, I am in danger of being shot. When someone tries to burn down a hotel and the flames start in a suite of rooms where they think I am staying, an attempt is being made to kill me, but thank God I am still alive.
So there you have it, my experience in Chicago, and I have had several other dramatic experiences in Chicago.
Later an individual trumped up a suit against me, I was supposed to make an appearance in Chicago, and my attorney said I would lose the case if l did not make the appearance. In the midst of it I received a letter from a member of the Chicago police department, who was my admiring friend, and in the letter he said: "Mr. Smith, I see where you are supposed to appear in court for a legal matter. Please don't come to Chicago, because your enemies are going to take advantage of your presence here either to throw you in jail or kill you."
I took his advice, even though I lost the Civil Case and $1,000.00. Even to this day, if l were to announce a meeting in the ballroom of one of the most exclusive hotels, I would either expect to be killed or imprisoned. The Jews and the gangsters rule Chicago.
The Legislature was in session at the State Capitol of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I had just returned from Hammond, Louisiana, where I had addressed a large cheering audience in support of the principles and programs of Huey Long. We were walking through the vestibule of the State Capitol and a man stepped out from behind a pillar and fired a shot at Huey Long, and as we later discovered, he was struck in the abdomen. The man was prepared to shoot me and others around Mr. Long, but he was shot and killed by the bodyguards. Huey Long was still conscious and could still walk and run. He ran immediately to the elevator, took it to the basement floor, and as he got off, he commanded a young man who was driving a car and said: "Take me to the hospital." The hospital was just behind the State Capitol, known as the Lady of the Lake. Here he lingered between life and death. Mrs. Smith's brother, who was a brilliant young doctor, said: "If he had been a bum, shot in the back room of a saloon, his life might have been saved, but because he was such an important man, the doctors were afraid to operate, or make decisions, without the confirmation of consultation." There are many who believe that the delay cost him his life.
In the death hour I stood beside his bed, and among his last words were these: "Oh God, don't let me die. I have a few more things to do."
It was the political drama of the century. The indignation which swept the Nation took on revolutionary proportions, and the sadness of the people cannot be estimated or described.
The Long family met to decide who should deliver the final words over his grave. I was waited on by the venerable father of Mr. Long, whose name was Huey Long, Sr. He came to me and said: "Mr. Smith, it is the desire of the family that you deliver the funeral sermon." I was honored and overwhelmed. We were then staying at a hotel known as the King Hotel in Baton Rouge. I couldn't sleep that night. All I could think of was what shall I say? I would think of a sentence and get up and write it down, and when morning came I had completed the funeral oration, which I reproduce herewith.
This oration has been recognized In the world of letters as one of the outstanding pieces of English literature of Its kind.
A printed copy of this oration appeared In the November, 1942, issue of THE CROSS AND THE FLAG, of which Gerald L. K. Smith is the editor.
Approximately 200,000 people attended the funeral. It was the largest public funeral in American history.
Below is an exact printed wording of hand-written copy.
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."
His affection for these sufferers was stronger than the flesh and is as everlasting as the soul. Hatred cannot touch him now; malice cannot reach him more. He sleeps in the shadow of the spire which he gave the sky, sepulchred close by this emblem which he raised.
He fell in the line of duty. He died for us. This tragedy fires the breast of every comrade. This untimely death makes restless the soul of us who adored him. We cannot be appeased by flattery, we cannot be set at ease by superficial consolidation. The ideals which he planted in our hearts have created a gnawing hunger for a new order. This hunger pain, this parching thirst for better things can only be healed and satisfied by the completion of that victory toward which he led us.
To summarize the influence and the noble attributes of this man is as though one went out to measure the boundary of a lake, only to discover that he was on the arm of an ocean. In him there was no touch of religious prejudice, but at all times a warm, deep faith in God.
In answer to a query which I made in his home one Sunday he replied: "I know, Brother Smith, that the arms of God are about me every moment."
Can it be that God consented to this fate in order that by this dramatic exit he might retire from the battle ground of political torture to find the quiet of eternity, while at the same time his torch was left to light our way?
In him there was no trace of racial antipathy. Mental wizard was this man and we who hovered close to him never ceased to marvel at the instinctive, intuitive workings of this mental giant. Social crusader, thinking at all times of victory and power only as they related to a better social order. Educational statesman determined that his children and the children of his neighbors should not be handicapped as he was. Political genius, so much so, that his passing, so they think, has relieved the arch-enemies of his crusade the world around. An orator supreme, speaking the words of the masses in campaigns and at the same time recording in the Congressional Record a series of Senatorial addresses supreme in rhetoric, artistic in style, permanent in value.
A statesman true, whose leadership led out so far ahead that short-sighted contemporaries were unable to see the star which he followed.
A tender father, a loving husband, lost to a family willing to give him up for the sake of his broader calling. A loyal friend, whose memory of tasks well done seemed flawless.
A musical heart that loved the songs of the common people and revealing a talent that for want of time lacked full expression. A writer with a pen that could warm the soul, comfort the body and fire the imagination.
He knew not the definition of disloyalty. He was a builder, a trail blazer, a ruthless foe of delay, a burner of red tape, a violent enemy of retrogression. Progress was the sweetheart of his soul. He divorced the past, he wedded the present, he wooed the future. He was the personification of intellectual courage, a masterful dynamo of personality. A symbol of the mass mind, he reacted normally to the cries and to the pains and to the psychology of the common people.
The Bible was his favorite text. Its truth to him, profound authority. Drama was his natural art. A humorist of superior quality. An actor whose stage was his work, whose scenery, the people about him. When he passed by all eyes were fastened on him, watching tensely to see something that had never been seen before-listening intently for something that had never been said before-and he never disappointed.
To you, the aged father, your loins produced a giant of history, whose mother will always live through the boundless influence of her illustrious son.
To you, the relatives, close and removed, three generations hence, your descendants will boast of your kinship to this fallen hero.
To you, the beloved wife, comrade in a million struggles, sufferer in a thousand defeats, rejoicer in ten thousand victories-be comforted in the knowledge that every moment of the remainder of your life you will have the memory of tasks well done, of services sacrificially performed and of prophesies yet to be fulfilled.
To you, sweet children, you tender offspring, forever will the works of your great father be engraved on the tablet pages of the indestructible book of history.
To you, the officials of State, the companions of political strategy, crusaders in a common cause, count memorable the day you first heard the mention of his name. The time will come when to say that you even touched his hand will be the most potent interest in your life.
This blood which dropped upon this soil shall seal our beam together. Take up the torch, complete the task, subdue selfish ambition, sacrifice for the sake of victory.
I was with him when he died. I said, "Amen," as he breathed his last. His final prayer was this: "Oh, God, don't let me die I have a few things more to do." The work which he left undone, we must complete. As one with no political ambition, and who seeks no gratuities of the hand of the State, I challenge you, my comrades, to complete the task.
Oh, God, why did we have to lose him?
With his removal from the arena of political activity it will no longer be necessary for any force to suppress liberal and accurate descriptions of his mighty work. Like other martyrs, from the moment of his death forth, there will be an ever widening and deepening understanding of the true greatness of this apostle of progress.
Some day the people will sit on the heights above their selfish prejudices and look upon the real man that he was. Some day they will know, some day they will understand.
Children of generations unborn will be rescued from drudgery guarded against hunger, protected from ignorance because of the life and work of Huey Pierce Long.
God willed, God ruled, God commanded Destiny to make him great. He was the victim of every form of persecution and abuse, struggling every moment of his public life under the cross of misrepresentation and the burden of misunderstanding, sacrificed to blind prejudice, but these only served in violation of precedent and convention to lift him higher and higher into the stratosphere of greatness. These tortures seemed to mark his course. They increased his necessity.
His unlimited talents invariably aroused the jealousies of those inferiors who posed as his equals. More than one, yes, many times, he has been the wounded victim of the Green Goddess; to use the figure, he was the Stradivarius, whose notes rose in competition with jealous drums, envious tom-toms. His was the unfinished symphony.
For the benefit of readers who would like to make a deeper study of the murder plot that was held in the DeSoto Hotel in New Orleans, let me remind such individuals that the complete report recorded by dictaphone, as referred to above, was inserted in the Congressional Record by Mr. Long, August 9, 1935. It chills the blood to reflect on the fact that the plot was fulfilled approximately one month after the report concerning the conspiracy was recorded in the Congressional Record.
Here are a few highlights of statements that were made in this murder plot conference. In deference to relatives and other innocent people who might be hurt by the report, I will not identify the individuals who uttered the quotes below, even though most of them were identified in the report recorded in the Congressional Record.
1. A New Orleans political leader said, "Huey should be tied to a bullstake and whipped by a blue gummed nigger. I am out to murder, bulldoze, steal or anything to win the next election."
2. "The entire resources of the United States Government (under Roosevelt) are at our disposal."
3. "President Roosevelt probably would be willing to send Federal troops into the state, if necessary."
4. "It will take more than political action to win the election. I would be willing to draw in a lottery to go out and kill Long. It would only take one man, one gun and one bullet."
5. "I haven't the slightest doubt that President Roosevelt would pardon anyone who killed him."
6. "Should the job be done in Washington?" In answer to this question, another voice said, "I once thought that would be necessary, but I don't think it is now."
Anyone who doubts the unanimous regimentation of the corrupted press and the power of the Roosevelt dictatorship should be reminded that in the face of these sensational reports, no voice from the Senate and no voice from the press and no voice from the political leadership outside the Long organization viewed the threat with alarm or asked for an investigation.
Even after he had been killed, such pressure was brought to bear on the Louisiana leadership that had made a deal with Roosevelt, that a plan to investigate the assassination which had been introduced into the State Legislature was cancelled and smothered.
This circumstance constitutes one of the scandals of the century. Reflect on how little the nation knows about the assassination of Huey P. Long compared to the books and the articles and the volumes of investigation that have been carried on related to the assassinations of John and Robert Kennedy.
To the casual observer it is almost unbelievable to reflect on the fact that even though the complex of economic and political power had been mobilized almost unanimously against this fearless statesman, he was still the most popular man in America-so much so that his worst political enemies knew that the only way that he could be kept out of the White House was to be murdered.
That's exactly what happened.
Sequel: It seems almost unbelievable that Mr. Long prophesied his own assassination, and read into the Congressional Record on August 9, 1935, a dialogue between his enemies who met to plot his death in Room 506 of the DeSoto Hotel in New Orleans.
Sequel: When the shots rang out, state police and the military moved in and divided the State Capitol between the people who were in the shooting area and the people who were in the lobby and other parts of the State Capitol. Mrs. Smith was separated from me, and anyone who knows Mrs. Smith knows that for years she has worn beautiful white hair, but it was that night after being separated from me for about three hours, not knowing whether I was dead or alive, that her hair began to turn white.
The funeral was the largest public funeral in American history not only up to that time, but larger than anything held since, even larger than the Kennedy funeral. It was estimated that it took two and one-half acres of land to hold the flowers which were laid side by side, coming from the humblest sharecroppers on up to the King and Queen of England. Every foreign nation, with few exceptions, was represented by floral tributes. Franklin D. Roosevelt must have been very happy that his most dangerous contemporary was dead and buried. The reason that this libertine and demagogue (Roosevelt) was so anxious to put me away as long as he lived was because he felt that I knew the true secret behind the assassination of Huey P. Long. Why wasn't it investigated? I'll give the answer to that question in another part of this book.
It became necessary for the opposition to try to do something to shift the blame, and they began to cook up theories to the effect that Huey Long was not shot by the young Jewish doctor, Carl Weise, but that he was shot by a bullet which ricocheted from the marble wall which had been fired from the gun of a bodyguard. This libelous theory has been given wide publicity in the controlled press and even by some people who have written books concerning the life and death of Huey Long.
The inquest was called, and it was in the hands of our enemies, because East Baton Rouge Parish, which is the Parish (county) in which the State Capitol is located, was always run by men who hated Mr. Long. Since I was with Mr. Long when he was shot, I was called as a witness to the inquest. With something definite in my mind, I told the coroner that I was planning to go to New Orleans and, if possible, I would like to testify early, and he naively said: "I'll put you on first." That was his big mistake.
The court house was packed with natives, newspapermen, photographers, newsreel cameras (there was no television), radio microphones, etc. The room vibrated and almost swelled like a hot teakettle ready to explode. I was called to the witness stand, and one question was submitted. The question was: "What is your name" I did not give my name. I arose and in a loud voice pointed my finger at my questioner and said: "I hold myself in contempt of this hearing and pronounce you and your associates as co-conspirators behind the assassination of Huey P. Long." If I had dropped a stick of dynamite in the room, it couldn't have been more sensational. I thereupon walked out. That was the end of the inquest. No other witnesses were ever called and there was no other hearing. The conspirators who had hoped to shift the blame from the enemies of Huey Long to the friends of Huey Long were defeated, except in the columns of some controlled newspapers, and most of the newspapers hated Huey Long. This event was portrayed in every newsreel theatre and pictures concerning it appeared on page one of every important newspaper in America. The whole circumstance catapulted my name to page one, and it made me a national figure. But, oh, what a terrible price to pay for that publicity. I later resolved to use that national acquaintance for a constructive purpose described in many places in this book.
I arose and said: "I shall not sell the blood of my best friend to his worst enemy. I have been catapulted into prominence from the wet grave of Huey Long, and I am not going to trade off his memory for political favors or patronage." One or two others hesitated to go along, but those who controlled the machine, headed by the Jew Seymour Weiss of New Orleans, made the deal, and I refer to it as the "Second Louisiana Purchase."
There I was, standing on a political island with the Louisiana machine against me and the Washington, D.C. machine against me. I called a meeting in New Orleans and spoke in the Plaza to 70,000 people. I took all the money I had and bought three hours of radio time on practically every radio station in the State of Louisiana and told them the whole story; that the blood of their fallen hero had been sold to his enemies. I kept telling the people all through the evening to call their friends and tell them to tune in, and I kept repeating certain things. It was estimated that 90%of the population of Louisiana was listening to my words by the time I closed my address a little after midnight. After the meeting was over I went with eight or ten of my loyal friends, all young men, to the Jung Hotel. We ordered some sandwiches sent to the room. We had scarcely settled down for a little relaxation when a knock came on the door and there stood fifteen or twenty plainclothesmen. They seized me and two of my most loyal young friends, Preston Delcasel and Dutch Gruenwald, haled us into a midnight court and threw us into a filthy, vomit-filled, drunk-tank jail.
Mrs. Smith's problem was to get the word out that I had been locked up, and she called a friend of ours in Atlanta, Georgia, who was the head of a radio news network. She told him what had happened, and he immediately put it on the air, and it began to be broadcast all over the City of New Orleans. The situation became so hot that about 3 o'clock in the morning the police came and let us out, and we walked back to the Seymour Weiss headquarters at the Roosevelt Hotel and as a group of defiant young men sat down and ordered sandwiches.
These were the dramatic days. These were the days when the men were separated from the boys. The "Second Louisiana Purchase" was consummated, and these men who made the deal all became multimillionaires and semi-millionaires. They bought country estates. Seymour Weiss bought the Roosevelt Hotel. The Long family was terrorized, including Mrs. Long, and they were afraid to speak out. They virtually kidnapped the Senator's son, who is now in the United States Senate. He was only 12 years of age when I delivered the funeral oration over the grave of his father, and he was taken into this Seymour Weiss network, and they refused to permit him as a boy to speak to me, or to see me. Even to this day, while a member of the United States Senate, he is afraid to answer my letters for fear of the Jews. He has made a fairly decent Senator, but there is no resemblance between him and his illustrious father.
Huey Long knew that I did not trust Seymour Weiss, although he had wormed his way into the confidence of Mr. Long. No explanation has ever been given for the nearly two million dollars of company funds that were locked in a safety deposit box in the Roosevelt Hotel. All we know is that a man who was a mere hotel clerk to begin with, blossomed into a hotel owner and multi-millionaire. No accounting was ever given to those who helped to accumulate this money to be used in the campaign to elect Mr. Long as President of the United States.
Another provision that went into the "Second Louisiana Purchase" was: "There must never be a legislative investigation into the assassination of Huey Long, or the leaders of the organization will be sent to prison for evasion of income tax and the spending patronage which has been promised will be cut off." Believe it or not, this turned the trick, and I had the disenchanting experience of seeing men who had risen to prominence from the wet grave of their assassinated leader willing to sell the man who made them for "thirty pieces of silver." The death was at the hands of a Jew by the name of Weiss, and the political deal was made at the hands of a Jew by the name of Weiss. The two villains in the whole operation were two Jews-Carl Weiss and Seymour Weiss. If there was any blood relationship between these two, it was not known and is still not known.
In a personal visit with the two living sisters of Huey Long who were alive when this was written, both confided in me that Seymour Weiss had terrorized the whole family, including the widow of Huey Long. One of the sisters confessed to me that even she was afraid that she might have been killed if she had told what she believed.
Even a thick book which pretends to tell the story of Huey Long is full of omissions and commissions, written, supervised and published under the tyrannical supervision of Seymour Weiss, who was promised by the author that nothing to my credit would be said in the book, a book which even omitted reference to the funeral and failed even to print the oration delivered over his grave. What a piece of biographical fakery!
next
EPISODE 66
A GROWING FAITH
Later I released a statement to the press to the effect that regardless of how far I had to carry the case into the higher courts, I would not pay one nickel to the corrupt government of Chicago which was trying to deny me the right of free speech.
Immediately the riot trial was recessed, and I was arrested for what the Judge called "contempt of court," and I was haled before this corrupt Judge to be abused and sentenced. It was announced that I would be arraigned and sentenced the next day.
We returned to the hotel in which we were staying known as the LaSalle, one of the landmarks of the City of CHicago, and then it was owned, believe it or not, by Mr. Avery Brundage, the man who for years had been the dominant personality in the world-wide Olympic games. Mr. Brundage was friendly to me, and all the members of his staff were friendly to me, and in staying in the hotel with my staff, I felt that we were living in as safe a place as we could have been in at that time in Chicago. Although we were well treated at the Blackstone, we did not feel a sense of safety there that we did at the LaSalle. Furthermore, the LaSalle was within walking distance of the court house. Mr. St. George had retained an assistant, whose name I shall not use, who posed as my friend and took time to come to the hotel at night and assure me that he would take care of the bond, and that I had nothing to fear. Even that visit aroused my suspicion, but in a few minutes he returned saying, "I just came back to reassure you that you have nothing to worry about when it comes to making bond in court tomorrow." This matured my suspicion, and I turned to Mrs. Smith and said: "That proves that we'll have to lay our hands on the cash, because I am convinced that the bond business in this city is a Jewish monopoly and not one Jew will go my bond in this court hearing."
I went down to the assistant manager at the LaSalle and said: "I'm going to need at least $2500.00," although my sincere lawyer Mr. St. George had said, "Don't worry Mr. Smith, it would be impossible and unprecedented for them to set a bond of more than $500.00." The cashier said: "We don't have that much money on hand, but we'll have many check outs before you go to court tomorrow morning, and I will try to set aside $2500.00 in currency."
When morning came, we found that he had kept his word and handed the $2500.00 over to Mrs. Smith in exchange for a check, and she put it in her purse.
We went to the court room. I was called before the Judge, and again I don't want to say anything that would sound blasphemous in relating my experience to that of our Lord Jesus Christ, but I would be dishonest if I did not say that as I walked up to that Judge's bench in that court room filled with Jews and radical enemies whose mouths were watering for my liquidation, I felt that I understood what my Saviour passed through in Pilate's court. The Judge was not a Jew, but he was the prostitute of the Jews, just as was Pilate. He knew our Lord was innocent, but didn't have the political courage to resist the political pressure of the Sanhedrin and their controlled population.
First he lectured the court concerning what a bad, evil and dangerous man I was. I doubt if Al Capone, when haled before the Judge that sentenced him, was excoriated worse than I was excoriated. After an exchange of arguments between my attorney and the attorney for the city, he sentenced me to two months in the Cook county Jail. That was all it would have taken to get me killed. My opposition to mongrelization and compulsory integration made it easy for my enemies to incite black killer militants against me. They knew that they could count on some black who would murder me through his own choice, or who could be purchased with Jew money to slaughter me in jail.
My lawyer stepped to the Judge's bench and announced that he would appeal the case, but the Judge, under some technicality, denied the appeal. Then my attorney out of the clear sky, who later told me that he just couldn't realize how he happened to think of that little technicality, pleaded for whatever it meant with the word ''mandamus'; which compelled the Judge to grant the extension. But he said it would be necessary to make bond.
My attorney had been deceived by this individual who said that he would come up with the bond. He did not appear. Mr. St. George walked up to the Judge's bench and said: "The man who is arranging for the bond should be here shortly." And the Judge with impatient contempt said: "We don't have time to wait, turn him over to the sheriff and lock him in the County Jail."
Then it was that I whispered into the ear of Mr. St. George and said: "Mrs. Smith has the cash." And he answered saying: "Oh, my God." He then walked up to the bench and said: "We're prepared to make cash bond." The lawyers began to argue over how much the bond would be. The Judge and the City Attorney insisted that it should be $5,000.00. When the word $3,000.00 was uttered Mrs. Smith later revealed that her heart sunk within her, but by some miraculous stroke of providence, the Judge, after the arguments, set my bond at $2500.00.
Before the bond was set, the deputy sheriff walked up to take hold of my arm, and I responded with my natural reflex by saying: "Don't you dare touch me." Instinctively he withdrew. By this time the cash was ready to make the bond and he was not authorized to touch me. I was instructed to go into a side room to make the bond and a watery-mouthed bailiff, seeking to satisfy his masters who had conspired against me, said to Mrs. Smith: "This is one place you can't go with your husband." It so happened that a young reporter for the Chicago Tribune (the largest daily newspaper in America) was there. He turned to this bailiff and began to curse him and said: "If you keep Mrs. Smith out of that bail-making room, you'll get your picture in the morning paper, and how," and he withdrew. We went into the bond-making room, or whatever it was, and Mrs. Smith reached into her purse and took out $2500.00 in cash.
Let the reader be advised that every day in Chicago hundreds and thousands upon thousands of dollars' worth of bonds are made for the most vicious criminals in the world, but the bail bond in Chicago, as in most cities, is controlled by the Jews, and here was a good Christian American fighting for free speech who could not even get a bond and had to dig up his own cash!
Elsewhere in this book is a chapter entitled "Fiddy". I won't give you the definition of that word here, but in that chapter is explained that thereafter we never went into any great city or on a speaking tour without a well wrapped package of plenty of cash, so that in case of an arrest or false accusation we could make bond without having to depend upon our enemies.
The press had grabbed the sentence "two months in the Cook County Jail," and when the message came over the radio so that my aged mother and father could hear it, it said: "Gerald Smith is now in the Cook County Jail," and there are undoubtedly thousands of people who still think that I served a term in the Cook County Jail. If they knew what I know, they would know that if l had ever served a term in the Cook County Jail I would never have come out alive. The plot was to murder me, and I won't take the time to develop the evidence to support that theory in this discussion.
Only a few days after I had been cited by the night court judge, I issued a statement concerning the corrupt judiciary and branded this judge as an agent of my Communist enemies. After the riot trial was in progress and the contempt trial was in progress, I was served a paper which indicated that I was being sued for $100,000.00 libel by the judge whom I had attacked, so there they had me tied up: two trials and a libel suit, with the newspapers and the Jew mind washing machine running me every day through their "sausage grinder" of smear and character assassination.
We met the libel suit and lost, but appealed it to a higher court and won. We lost the riot trial, and it was appealed to the State Supreme Court, and again we lost. It was appealed to the United States Supreme Court. In those days we still had some semblance of a Supreme Court and, thank God, we won in the Supreme Court and the riot sentence was reversed.
For the benefit of research students interested in this incident will say that the riot trial had to do with another one of the speakers, whose name I shall not use. The theory was that if this was won, the sentence would stand for all of us, and if it was lost the sentence would be dismissed for all of us.
Remember, I could have settled for a few hundred dollars if I had pleaded guilty; but if I had been given a $50,000.00 bonus, or more, I would not have pleaded guilty, because I was not guilty of anything, and I have never been guilty of any crime. So we carried it through the courts. When it was all wound up it cost me something between $25,000.00 and $30,000.00. One can imagine what the expense of this was to me.
Now back to the Chicago drama. While I was waiting for the unfolding of the court cases in Chicago, we continued, together with my staff, to stay at the LaSalle Hotel. That included Mrs. Smith, my secretary Miss Legant, and others who were associated with me for physical protection. We had taken a suite in the hotel, and the reader can imagine how much all of this was costing me-hotel bills, lawyers fees, court records, etc., etc.
The Jews and other enemies had not given up the idea of killing me. The reason that they were so desperately against me was that God had given me an usual gift of speech, and there is no enemy nor friend who can cite one instance where I have addressed a large audience, or any sized audience of people, that I did not carry the audience with me. My enemies knew that the only way they could keep me from convincing America concerning the correctness of my position was to kill me, or so assassinate my character that for all practical purposes I would be liquidated. In fact, enough things have been done to liquidate me one hundred times. People who know some of the things which I have gone through express surprise when they see me walking around alive and free.
The press called on me and asked me how long I was going to be in the LaSalle, and I told them that I was going to be there all week. But I failed to tell them I was going to be gone for 24 hours, because I had a speaking engagement in Cleveland, Ohio. This was perhaps one of the most providential pieces of information I had ever put out. It was incorrect, but it may have saved my life, because the day I was gone a flash fire broke out in the LaSalle Hotel, and the center of the flames was in the rooms and the suite which had been occupied by Mrs. Smith and myself and my staff. I believe that the hotel was set on fire for the purpose of murdering me. And anyone who has known me through the years knows that I do not have any symptoms of paranoia. I don't look under rugs and behind pictures and develop the superstition that every time I take down the telephone that it is tapped. I am not that sort of an individual, but I am intelligent enough to know that when a man sticks a gun in my stomach, I am in danger of being shot. When someone tries to burn down a hotel and the flames start in a suite of rooms where they think I am staying, an attempt is being made to kill me, but thank God I am still alive.
So there you have it, my experience in Chicago, and I have had several other dramatic experiences in Chicago.
Later an individual trumped up a suit against me, I was supposed to make an appearance in Chicago, and my attorney said I would lose the case if l did not make the appearance. In the midst of it I received a letter from a member of the Chicago police department, who was my admiring friend, and in the letter he said: "Mr. Smith, I see where you are supposed to appear in court for a legal matter. Please don't come to Chicago, because your enemies are going to take advantage of your presence here either to throw you in jail or kill you."
I took his advice, even though I lost the Civil Case and $1,000.00. Even to this day, if l were to announce a meeting in the ballroom of one of the most exclusive hotels, I would either expect to be killed or imprisoned. The Jews and the gangsters rule Chicago.
EPISODE 63
HUEY LONG ASSASSINATED
Huey Long had said: "Gerald Smith is a better speaker than I am."
Remember, he said it, not I. It was generally understood among newspapermen and national observers that I was travelling all over America
and contacting people preparing to lay the groundwork for Senator
Huey P. Long, the most popular man in America among the people, to be
elected President of the United States. As indicated elsewhere, the most
knowledgeable politician of the time, James A. Farley, who was the
political mentor of Franklin D. Roosevelt, said in his Memoirs: "If Huey
Long had not been assassinated, he would have been elected President." The Legislature was in session at the State Capitol of Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I had just returned from Hammond, Louisiana, where I had addressed a large cheering audience in support of the principles and programs of Huey Long. We were walking through the vestibule of the State Capitol and a man stepped out from behind a pillar and fired a shot at Huey Long, and as we later discovered, he was struck in the abdomen. The man was prepared to shoot me and others around Mr. Long, but he was shot and killed by the bodyguards. Huey Long was still conscious and could still walk and run. He ran immediately to the elevator, took it to the basement floor, and as he got off, he commanded a young man who was driving a car and said: "Take me to the hospital." The hospital was just behind the State Capitol, known as the Lady of the Lake. Here he lingered between life and death. Mrs. Smith's brother, who was a brilliant young doctor, said: "If he had been a bum, shot in the back room of a saloon, his life might have been saved, but because he was such an important man, the doctors were afraid to operate, or make decisions, without the confirmation of consultation." There are many who believe that the delay cost him his life.
In the death hour I stood beside his bed, and among his last words were these: "Oh God, don't let me die. I have a few more things to do."
It was the political drama of the century. The indignation which swept the Nation took on revolutionary proportions, and the sadness of the people cannot be estimated or described.
The Long family met to decide who should deliver the final words over his grave. I was waited on by the venerable father of Mr. Long, whose name was Huey Long, Sr. He came to me and said: "Mr. Smith, it is the desire of the family that you deliver the funeral sermon." I was honored and overwhelmed. We were then staying at a hotel known as the King Hotel in Baton Rouge. I couldn't sleep that night. All I could think of was what shall I say? I would think of a sentence and get up and write it down, and when morning came I had completed the funeral oration, which I reproduce herewith.
This oration has been recognized In the world of letters as one of the outstanding pieces of English literature of Its kind.
A printed copy of this oration appeared In the November, 1942, issue of THE CROSS AND THE FLAG, of which Gerald L. K. Smith is the editor.
Approximately 200,000 people attended the funeral. It was the largest public funeral in American history.
Below is an exact printed wording of hand-written copy.
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."
-John 15:13.
The lives of great men do not end with the grave. They just begin. This place
marks not the resting place of Huey Pierce Long; it marks only the burial ground
for his body. His spirit shall not rest as long as hungry bodies cry for food, as long
as lean human frames stand naked as long as homeless wretches haunt this land
of plenty. His affection for these sufferers was stronger than the flesh and is as everlasting as the soul. Hatred cannot touch him now; malice cannot reach him more. He sleeps in the shadow of the spire which he gave the sky, sepulchred close by this emblem which he raised.
He fell in the line of duty. He died for us. This tragedy fires the breast of every comrade. This untimely death makes restless the soul of us who adored him. We cannot be appeased by flattery, we cannot be set at ease by superficial consolidation. The ideals which he planted in our hearts have created a gnawing hunger for a new order. This hunger pain, this parching thirst for better things can only be healed and satisfied by the completion of that victory toward which he led us.
To summarize the influence and the noble attributes of this man is as though one went out to measure the boundary of a lake, only to discover that he was on the arm of an ocean. In him there was no touch of religious prejudice, but at all times a warm, deep faith in God.
In answer to a query which I made in his home one Sunday he replied: "I know, Brother Smith, that the arms of God are about me every moment."
Can it be that God consented to this fate in order that by this dramatic exit he might retire from the battle ground of political torture to find the quiet of eternity, while at the same time his torch was left to light our way?
In him there was no trace of racial antipathy. Mental wizard was this man and we who hovered close to him never ceased to marvel at the instinctive, intuitive workings of this mental giant. Social crusader, thinking at all times of victory and power only as they related to a better social order. Educational statesman determined that his children and the children of his neighbors should not be handicapped as he was. Political genius, so much so, that his passing, so they think, has relieved the arch-enemies of his crusade the world around. An orator supreme, speaking the words of the masses in campaigns and at the same time recording in the Congressional Record a series of Senatorial addresses supreme in rhetoric, artistic in style, permanent in value.
A statesman true, whose leadership led out so far ahead that short-sighted contemporaries were unable to see the star which he followed.
A tender father, a loving husband, lost to a family willing to give him up for the sake of his broader calling. A loyal friend, whose memory of tasks well done seemed flawless.
A musical heart that loved the songs of the common people and revealing a talent that for want of time lacked full expression. A writer with a pen that could warm the soul, comfort the body and fire the imagination.
He knew not the definition of disloyalty. He was a builder, a trail blazer, a ruthless foe of delay, a burner of red tape, a violent enemy of retrogression. Progress was the sweetheart of his soul. He divorced the past, he wedded the present, he wooed the future. He was the personification of intellectual courage, a masterful dynamo of personality. A symbol of the mass mind, he reacted normally to the cries and to the pains and to the psychology of the common people.
The Bible was his favorite text. Its truth to him, profound authority. Drama was his natural art. A humorist of superior quality. An actor whose stage was his work, whose scenery, the people about him. When he passed by all eyes were fastened on him, watching tensely to see something that had never been seen before-listening intently for something that had never been said before-and he never disappointed.
To you, the aged father, your loins produced a giant of history, whose mother will always live through the boundless influence of her illustrious son.
To you, the relatives, close and removed, three generations hence, your descendants will boast of your kinship to this fallen hero.
To you, the beloved wife, comrade in a million struggles, sufferer in a thousand defeats, rejoicer in ten thousand victories-be comforted in the knowledge that every moment of the remainder of your life you will have the memory of tasks well done, of services sacrificially performed and of prophesies yet to be fulfilled.
To you, sweet children, you tender offspring, forever will the works of your great father be engraved on the tablet pages of the indestructible book of history.
To you, the officials of State, the companions of political strategy, crusaders in a common cause, count memorable the day you first heard the mention of his name. The time will come when to say that you even touched his hand will be the most potent interest in your life.
This blood which dropped upon this soil shall seal our beam together. Take up the torch, complete the task, subdue selfish ambition, sacrifice for the sake of victory.
I was with him when he died. I said, "Amen," as he breathed his last. His final prayer was this: "Oh, God, don't let me die I have a few things more to do." The work which he left undone, we must complete. As one with no political ambition, and who seeks no gratuities of the hand of the State, I challenge you, my comrades, to complete the task.
Oh, God, why did we have to lose him?
With his removal from the arena of political activity it will no longer be necessary for any force to suppress liberal and accurate descriptions of his mighty work. Like other martyrs, from the moment of his death forth, there will be an ever widening and deepening understanding of the true greatness of this apostle of progress.
Some day the people will sit on the heights above their selfish prejudices and look upon the real man that he was. Some day they will know, some day they will understand.
Children of generations unborn will be rescued from drudgery guarded against hunger, protected from ignorance because of the life and work of Huey Pierce Long.
God willed, God ruled, God commanded Destiny to make him great. He was the victim of every form of persecution and abuse, struggling every moment of his public life under the cross of misrepresentation and the burden of misunderstanding, sacrificed to blind prejudice, but these only served in violation of precedent and convention to lift him higher and higher into the stratosphere of greatness. These tortures seemed to mark his course. They increased his necessity.
His unlimited talents invariably aroused the jealousies of those inferiors who posed as his equals. More than one, yes, many times, he has been the wounded victim of the Green Goddess; to use the figure, he was the Stradivarius, whose notes rose in competition with jealous drums, envious tom-toms. His was the unfinished symphony.
For the benefit of readers who would like to make a deeper study of the murder plot that was held in the DeSoto Hotel in New Orleans, let me remind such individuals that the complete report recorded by dictaphone, as referred to above, was inserted in the Congressional Record by Mr. Long, August 9, 1935. It chills the blood to reflect on the fact that the plot was fulfilled approximately one month after the report concerning the conspiracy was recorded in the Congressional Record.
Here are a few highlights of statements that were made in this murder plot conference. In deference to relatives and other innocent people who might be hurt by the report, I will not identify the individuals who uttered the quotes below, even though most of them were identified in the report recorded in the Congressional Record.
1. A New Orleans political leader said, "Huey should be tied to a bullstake and whipped by a blue gummed nigger. I am out to murder, bulldoze, steal or anything to win the next election."
2. "The entire resources of the United States Government (under Roosevelt) are at our disposal."
3. "President Roosevelt probably would be willing to send Federal troops into the state, if necessary."
4. "It will take more than political action to win the election. I would be willing to draw in a lottery to go out and kill Long. It would only take one man, one gun and one bullet."
5. "I haven't the slightest doubt that President Roosevelt would pardon anyone who killed him."
6. "Should the job be done in Washington?" In answer to this question, another voice said, "I once thought that would be necessary, but I don't think it is now."
Anyone who doubts the unanimous regimentation of the corrupted press and the power of the Roosevelt dictatorship should be reminded that in the face of these sensational reports, no voice from the Senate and no voice from the press and no voice from the political leadership outside the Long organization viewed the threat with alarm or asked for an investigation.
Even after he had been killed, such pressure was brought to bear on the Louisiana leadership that had made a deal with Roosevelt, that a plan to investigate the assassination which had been introduced into the State Legislature was cancelled and smothered.
This circumstance constitutes one of the scandals of the century. Reflect on how little the nation knows about the assassination of Huey P. Long compared to the books and the articles and the volumes of investigation that have been carried on related to the assassinations of John and Robert Kennedy.
To the casual observer it is almost unbelievable to reflect on the fact that even though the complex of economic and political power had been mobilized almost unanimously against this fearless statesman, he was still the most popular man in America-so much so that his worst political enemies knew that the only way that he could be kept out of the White House was to be murdered.
That's exactly what happened.
Sequel: It seems almost unbelievable that Mr. Long prophesied his own assassination, and read into the Congressional Record on August 9, 1935, a dialogue between his enemies who met to plot his death in Room 506 of the DeSoto Hotel in New Orleans.
Sequel: When the shots rang out, state police and the military moved in and divided the State Capitol between the people who were in the shooting area and the people who were in the lobby and other parts of the State Capitol. Mrs. Smith was separated from me, and anyone who knows Mrs. Smith knows that for years she has worn beautiful white hair, but it was that night after being separated from me for about three hours, not knowing whether I was dead or alive, that her hair began to turn white.
The funeral was the largest public funeral in American history not only up to that time, but larger than anything held since, even larger than the Kennedy funeral. It was estimated that it took two and one-half acres of land to hold the flowers which were laid side by side, coming from the humblest sharecroppers on up to the King and Queen of England. Every foreign nation, with few exceptions, was represented by floral tributes. Franklin D. Roosevelt must have been very happy that his most dangerous contemporary was dead and buried. The reason that this libertine and demagogue (Roosevelt) was so anxious to put me away as long as he lived was because he felt that I knew the true secret behind the assassination of Huey P. Long. Why wasn't it investigated? I'll give the answer to that question in another part of this book.
EPISODE 64
ASSASSINATION INQUEST
The feeling was so tense and lethal that the general population who
loved and voted for Huey P. Long was inclined to look upon every enemy
of Huey Long as a co-conspirator in the assassination plot. Any man who
would have spoken above a whisper on any street in the State of
Louisiana expressing pleasure over the assassination of Huey Long
might have been shot without notice. Mostly unstable people and people
of high and uncontrollable tempers were walking up and down the streets hoping that they could find an excuse to shoot an enemy of Huey
Long. That is how the feeling went. It became necessary for the opposition to try to do something to shift the blame, and they began to cook up theories to the effect that Huey Long was not shot by the young Jewish doctor, Carl Weise, but that he was shot by a bullet which ricocheted from the marble wall which had been fired from the gun of a bodyguard. This libelous theory has been given wide publicity in the controlled press and even by some people who have written books concerning the life and death of Huey Long.
The inquest was called, and it was in the hands of our enemies, because East Baton Rouge Parish, which is the Parish (county) in which the State Capitol is located, was always run by men who hated Mr. Long. Since I was with Mr. Long when he was shot, I was called as a witness to the inquest. With something definite in my mind, I told the coroner that I was planning to go to New Orleans and, if possible, I would like to testify early, and he naively said: "I'll put you on first." That was his big mistake.
The court house was packed with natives, newspapermen, photographers, newsreel cameras (there was no television), radio microphones, etc. The room vibrated and almost swelled like a hot teakettle ready to explode. I was called to the witness stand, and one question was submitted. The question was: "What is your name" I did not give my name. I arose and in a loud voice pointed my finger at my questioner and said: "I hold myself in contempt of this hearing and pronounce you and your associates as co-conspirators behind the assassination of Huey P. Long." If I had dropped a stick of dynamite in the room, it couldn't have been more sensational. I thereupon walked out. That was the end of the inquest. No other witnesses were ever called and there was no other hearing. The conspirators who had hoped to shift the blame from the enemies of Huey Long to the friends of Huey Long were defeated, except in the columns of some controlled newspapers, and most of the newspapers hated Huey Long. This event was portrayed in every newsreel theatre and pictures concerning it appeared on page one of every important newspaper in America. The whole circumstance catapulted my name to page one, and it made me a national figure. But, oh, what a terrible price to pay for that publicity. I later resolved to use that national acquaintance for a constructive purpose described in many places in this book.
EPISODE 65
THE 'SECOND' LOUISIANA PURCHASE
I was the first person to use that term, and I will now proceed to define
it. Shortly after the death of Huey Long a state election came up involving the election of a Governor and other state officials and a United
States Senator. A ticket of individuals who had seemed to be pro-Long
was elected by an overwhelming majority, because the general population was in no mood to vote for men who had desired the death of Huey
Long. They voted for people that they thought were completely committed to Huey Long, but they were later to be greatly disappointed. After
the election was over and the winners had promised that they would do
everything that Huey Long would have done had he lived, it came to my
ears that under the leadership of the Jew who had wormed his way into
the Long organization, by the name of Seymour Weiss, made the undercover secret deals with the very Roosevelt machine that had desired and
enjoyed the assassination of Huey P. Long. It seemed that Mr. Weiss and
numerous of his associates had involved themselves in tax evasions and
cheating the Internal Revenue Department. They were ready to trade
off the blood of Huey Long and the State of Louisiana in return for what
they thought would be their liberty. We were visited by one of the three
highest authorities in the Roosevelt regime. For the sake of the living
members of his family, I will not use his name. It was estimated that
there were nine of us who represented the controlling influence of the
State of Louisiana. This man who came from Washington was ready to
make a deal. He let it be known that there would be millions and
millions and millions that the Government was ready to spend in
Louisiana, but had held back because of Mr. Roosevelt's contempt for
Mr. Long. Now he said that if we would deliver the State of Louisiana to
Mr. Roosevelt and guarantee a Roosevelt delegation at the Philadelphia
Convention that all sorts of good things would happen in Louisiana. I arose and said: "I shall not sell the blood of my best friend to his worst enemy. I have been catapulted into prominence from the wet grave of Huey Long, and I am not going to trade off his memory for political favors or patronage." One or two others hesitated to go along, but those who controlled the machine, headed by the Jew Seymour Weiss of New Orleans, made the deal, and I refer to it as the "Second Louisiana Purchase."
There I was, standing on a political island with the Louisiana machine against me and the Washington, D.C. machine against me. I called a meeting in New Orleans and spoke in the Plaza to 70,000 people. I took all the money I had and bought three hours of radio time on practically every radio station in the State of Louisiana and told them the whole story; that the blood of their fallen hero had been sold to his enemies. I kept telling the people all through the evening to call their friends and tell them to tune in, and I kept repeating certain things. It was estimated that 90%of the population of Louisiana was listening to my words by the time I closed my address a little after midnight. After the meeting was over I went with eight or ten of my loyal friends, all young men, to the Jung Hotel. We ordered some sandwiches sent to the room. We had scarcely settled down for a little relaxation when a knock came on the door and there stood fifteen or twenty plainclothesmen. They seized me and two of my most loyal young friends, Preston Delcasel and Dutch Gruenwald, haled us into a midnight court and threw us into a filthy, vomit-filled, drunk-tank jail.
Mrs. Smith's problem was to get the word out that I had been locked up, and she called a friend of ours in Atlanta, Georgia, who was the head of a radio news network. She told him what had happened, and he immediately put it on the air, and it began to be broadcast all over the City of New Orleans. The situation became so hot that about 3 o'clock in the morning the police came and let us out, and we walked back to the Seymour Weiss headquarters at the Roosevelt Hotel and as a group of defiant young men sat down and ordered sandwiches.
These were the dramatic days. These were the days when the men were separated from the boys. The "Second Louisiana Purchase" was consummated, and these men who made the deal all became multimillionaires and semi-millionaires. They bought country estates. Seymour Weiss bought the Roosevelt Hotel. The Long family was terrorized, including Mrs. Long, and they were afraid to speak out. They virtually kidnapped the Senator's son, who is now in the United States Senate. He was only 12 years of age when I delivered the funeral oration over the grave of his father, and he was taken into this Seymour Weiss network, and they refused to permit him as a boy to speak to me, or to see me. Even to this day, while a member of the United States Senate, he is afraid to answer my letters for fear of the Jews. He has made a fairly decent Senator, but there is no resemblance between him and his illustrious father.
Huey Long knew that I did not trust Seymour Weiss, although he had wormed his way into the confidence of Mr. Long. No explanation has ever been given for the nearly two million dollars of company funds that were locked in a safety deposit box in the Roosevelt Hotel. All we know is that a man who was a mere hotel clerk to begin with, blossomed into a hotel owner and multi-millionaire. No accounting was ever given to those who helped to accumulate this money to be used in the campaign to elect Mr. Long as President of the United States.
Another provision that went into the "Second Louisiana Purchase" was: "There must never be a legislative investigation into the assassination of Huey Long, or the leaders of the organization will be sent to prison for evasion of income tax and the spending patronage which has been promised will be cut off." Believe it or not, this turned the trick, and I had the disenchanting experience of seeing men who had risen to prominence from the wet grave of their assassinated leader willing to sell the man who made them for "thirty pieces of silver." The death was at the hands of a Jew by the name of Weiss, and the political deal was made at the hands of a Jew by the name of Weiss. The two villains in the whole operation were two Jews-Carl Weiss and Seymour Weiss. If there was any blood relationship between these two, it was not known and is still not known.
In a personal visit with the two living sisters of Huey Long who were alive when this was written, both confided in me that Seymour Weiss had terrorized the whole family, including the widow of Huey Long. One of the sisters confessed to me that even she was afraid that she might have been killed if she had told what she believed.
Even a thick book which pretends to tell the story of Huey Long is full of omissions and commissions, written, supervised and published under the tyrannical supervision of Seymour Weiss, who was promised by the author that nothing to my credit would be said in the book, a book which even omitted reference to the funeral and failed even to print the oration delivered over his grave. What a piece of biographical fakery!
next
EPISODE 66
A GROWING FAITH
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