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Flying Post-9/11
by Derek Powling
I recently experienced my first post-9/11 flight. In some ways, the terrorists have already won. Based on a news report, I called the airport to find out how long in advance I needed to arrive. Three hours was the answer. I arrived three hours prior to the departure of my flight, and was informed that my family could not enter and also that I could not check in and drop off baggage until two hours prior to departure. I do not know what the "extra" hour I needed to be there in advance was for.
After waiting an hour I was able to check in for my flight. All passengers then had to report to a table where our baggage was searched. A "low-rung" White, complete with hightop white sneakers, homemade-looking tattoos on his arms, and a pack of generic cigarettes in his pocket then searched my suitcase. Some concern was raised over the leatherman tool and pocket knife in my check on suitcase, but after being "cleared" it was repacked and I was able to check it in. At least the White knew his place and was deferential if not embarrassed over the search. Various coloreds of equally low intelligence and potential as this individual have not known their place in years.
I then moved on to a very long line of passengers attempting to get through the gate security. My carry-on was placed on a conveyor belt where it passed the scrutiny of the obese black female precariously perched on a stool that was stressed far beyond its engineered tolerances. My wallet and watch were placed in a basket and handed to an equally obese, dull-appearing, open-mouthed black female who was adorned with more gold jewelry than any dozen passengers could hope to place in a basket. She rudely shouted, "Put it through the machine, don't be handin' that to me!" I just love rude and superior treatment from the dregs of society.
After passing the intensive security manned by such impressive specimens, I went into the bathroom and removed the carbon fiber letter opener from my shoe and placed it in a more handy location. My wallet and watch had also passed the sharp eyed scrutiny of the security personnel. I checked to ensure the credit card sized pocket tool was still there. I also noted an overweight Mexican junior enlisted soldier enhancing security by walking around with an M16, pistol belt, and black beret. His weapon was clumsily slung, would take several precious seconds to place into operation, and his web gear hung on him in a manner consistent with those who lack true familiarity with their kit. Other than a name tape, unit patch (national guard), and "U.S. Army" patch, his uniform completely lacked all signs of advanced skill or training, such as a ranger tab, special forces tab, airborne wings, combat diver bubble, or any other skill identifier. Yet another dreg rounded up for my "security."
I then went to another amazingly long line at the check in desk to get my boarding pass. Another clerk at the desk announced that a few seats were still available on their flight leaving in a few minutes to the same destination. She was immediately flocked by hurried passengers trying to cut an hour or so off their trip. After checking in, I was still denied a boarding pass and placed in another line to undergo another search. Two young black males in ostentatious suits, smothered in foul-smelling cologne, wearing gaudy jewelry, and with long, ungroomed nails delighted in turning me around and waving a wand all about. They were especially sure to pat me down, double check my belt buckle, and act like they were doing me a favor. My letter opener and wallet- carried pocket tool were never noticed. I was finally awarded a boarding pass and sat down to await my flight.
While waiting to board, I finally spotted someone who stood out from the other "security" types. This older White gentleman wore a conservative but moderately priced suit, had a cheap haircut, and was getting a little thick around the middle, but his eyes were sharp. He moved confidently and in a manner that tried to hide the speed and dexterity he possessed. This was a shooter. Was he an air marshall? Another ex-special-operations-type simply traveling? His left wrist bore an automatic Seiko diver with a velcro strap and small compass. He was definitely an ex-special-operations-type. He stopped to talk to two more dreg-appearing uniformed police officers and I am convinced he was an air marshall or other federal-agency type. How someone with his probable background stood employment in the current egalitarian, affirmative-action environment is beyond me.
My flight was fairly uneventful. The passengers heard from the overhead that no lines could be formed at the rest rooms and most spent the flight with eyes darting up and down the aisles for a chance to dash to the bathroom. None voiced resentment over being treated like a child. After all, it was for our "safety."
My return flight was a repeat of the first. Of note, my stopover was spent at a dilapidated concourse with no teller machine, disgusting vending and food services that did not take credit cards, and reminded me of airport experiences over a decade ago. Most passengers just put up with it instead of leaving the concourse for a more modern one. The wait to come back through the security gate was just too long. Also, my flight arrived early and I inquired about taking the sooner departing flight to the same destination. This would have gotten me home two and one half hours early. Since my baggage was not checked onto it, they would not let me. This was the same airline and airport that had just put passengers on an earlier flight a few days ago without changing baggage. No explanation was given when I brought this up and I was told that "I must have been mistaken."
Without an immigration policy that flooded our country with sand niggers, the events of 9/11 would not have occurred. Now two-digit-IQ blacks, Mexican national guardsmen, and various others provide for our safety by stripping us of freedom and dignity. This can only represent the smallest taste of what Whites in Rhodesia and South Africa now endure. Will the future role of the White man in America be only to maintain an infrastructure of society for the mud people that they themselves could neither have built nor can maintain?
DEREK POWLING
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