• R. E. Maynard

A Disastrous Consciousness Weighs Heavily on a Sorrowful Soul

The rage forged as hatred forced so many violent thoughts to race freely in his feeble mind. Brian was a man dealing with a lack of consciousness that plagued his tainted soul. Lost in a society where human differences haunted him with such aggressions, this young man fought demons that darkened Brian's demeanors. A soldier in an army of racist skinhead radicals, he laced up his boots to attend a rally in the southern suburbs of New Orleans. The eclectic culture of the Big Easy had long suffered an underbelly of racist clansmen and women that forced ignorance upon many peaceful communities.

A ganging culture founded through violence caused the reputation of murderous threats in districts where joblessness lent to drug cartels, which had then burdened the streets for far too long. On such an important day’s celebration, the city made triumphant milestones in lessening crime and violence. Jobs were developed in areas where new enterprises allowed for so many new ventures. Long time gang leaders from the lower ninth ward came to a truce and began to educate their youth on the importance of this new initiative to trust one another’s sense of belonging to safer communities. The leaders from these opposing gangs funded a day’s events marking no murders in well over a year.

A Disastrous Consciousness Weighs Heavily on a Sorrowful Soul

No one could have ever predicted the arrival of Brian’s clan in the streets of a festival celebrating peace. Meanwhile, Brian’s brotherhood consisted of a bunch of naïve runaways and homeless youth lacking sensible reasoning for adopting such evil beliefs. The group of radicals attended rallies celebrating the current President of the United States, which a supportive narrative kept people like Brian’s voicing relevant for hate-speech to pursued evildoers to commit travesties against the innocent. Many radicals apparently felt drawn to the new leader’s rhetoric, because for over three years since the election’s outcome, the one-time television personality drove an underbelly of hatred to the forefront of America's politics.

Voters in the years leading up to the election found comforts in trusting in the political conflicts of a man known for lacking the reputation of a typical politician working in Washington D.C... Of course, the news media framed reports that fueled Brian’s clan to devise a serious plan for delivering on the promises to spill blood upon men and women of color. Community leaders around New Orleans felt confident in the policing in deserving community. Children played in the streets without fear, and schools seen the proof of teacher’s efforts to grow some of the school system’s brightest minds. A future of leadership planted seeds for positive efforts that longed for foresights born through the loss of generational youth. The children of this era brought about change and led with compassions.

The City of New Orleans celebrated Mardi Gras and for the first year in a long without violence. The public knew that a cultural change took place as the city councilpersons reported across the board huge decreases in crime throughout the city. Brian knew that his voice had a history which led foul situations where collateral damage needed to raise awareness to causes spreading a white race of nationalists’ messaging of hateful rhetoric. He knew if he asked his followers to martyr themselves, a many of his clan would not be willing to commit to such a sacrifice. Mr. Fowler, a known racist and Brian planned for years this terroristic moment and, they looked to shift history backward and Americans would never forget such forceful actions.

Ingrained hatred forceful with warped mindsets reared its ugly head which had remained absent ever since a female youth got raped by skinheads and hung in Mississippi. The youth's story made the nation media, and the masses held candlelight vigils across the nation. America had eagerly awaited a retreat from the racist insurgencies to cease after years of political influences, but as long as the history of racism existed in the outspoken mouths of fools, because of people like Brian -- a deadly resistance to peaceful resolve would likely never happen. The group, few in stature, walked about town at night raising all types of chaos, which the police fought to distinguish, but the bad cops on the force encouraged the actions of the clan who had just adopted a new title.

The Reigning Eagles announced their new name titled on a website post, which in their beliefs, the name acted as a tribute to the American eagle. Brain founded the concept that he felt strongly such a name meant that each soldier in his cult would stand for some glorifying ownership of pride in a white America. In most of the protests conducted in public, the actions of pedestrians passing by laughed at the group’s agendas and mocked their name. Brian had a low-grade average high school education and a heated temper, and such lessons in humility failed the whole damn Holders family. Brian Holder never held an actual job or fit into the mold for becoming a citizen in New Orleans – let alone America. He followed his family into the pits of Hell willingly.

The Mayor of New Orleans proudly stood upon a staged venue giving a speech about the truce and reduction of crimes over the year leading up to the event.

Music filled the air with delightful tunes, jazzy, and yet a soulful selection, as the people danced around happily with their hearts filled with glee. Finally, the communities of New Orleans found a rising mood of joyous times together without tensions causing fights or deaths. The unity of races dancing together would enable greater gains in tourism in the city’s surrounding attractions, as a large draw to the city feed many families as a result of businesses growing profits. The experiences of southern hospitality and Cajun culture had hypnotic effects on the touring of a French Quarters and areas rich with history. Parties every day and night lead tourist through streets raving with little concern of anything other than a constant atmosphere of freedoms from their daily routines.

Brian actually grew up in Meterie, Louisiana–a small suburb on the Eastbank of the city. A mixture of races lived in neighborhoods, as years of race wars fed the attitudes of youth divided by ideological ignorance until now. Brian loaded his minivan bought with cash, as explosives, and weaponry armed the clan with deadly intentions. The afternoon air warmed stuffy with a sweltering heat wave, which such weather was an occurrence not new for the residents of this region of the States. The men and women loaded into cars. Brian pulled away in his van.

The group left eager to follow the bidding of one man's wickedness and, in reality, most thought they would arrive, bust some heads, and get out right before being arrested. Driving in a caravan toward the event, a careful maneuvering of vehicles led them patiently to conduct thoughts well planned to perform mayhem on as many innocent people as possible.

Cindy married Brian a year earlier. In her right mind, she had never thought that her beliefs would lead to murder. Nervously, she drove stiffened with a mind captured by the stresses of the day. A police vehicle maneuvered in behind her car. She stiffened even more so and started to cry, as Brian encouraged Cindy to calm down on a cell phone positioned in the middle counsel of the car’s interior. “Damn, honey–I have a cop car behind me,” Cindy stated fearfully.

Brian replied, “Cindy, calm down. If you give the bastard a reason to pull you over… he will.”

The police cruiser remained a tail on Cindy’s Chevrolet and followed closely as the caravan drove block by block. A mile from the park where the event resided, the officer turned his vehicle off on a parallel street. Cindy let out a gasp for a breath in relief that she had escaped justice, to only realize that her fate was this certain inevitability. Prison began to weigh heavily upon her compassion for her life’s freedoms, or that she might die soon. The vehicle floated off into a daydream, as an uneasy feeling of stress overcame her as the caravan neared the park. In turning the corner to the street where the bomb in Brian’s van reached its destination, Cindy’s eyes spied a dozen police cars in every direction. She froze up and hit her breaks. The car came to a halt and she sat fearful of the outcome of this horrible plan that would definitely come to fruition.

Brian led forward to park near the playground, as children played on swings and other play sets. He sat breathing heavily, as he began a rant on the group call to his co-conspirators. The other vehicles positioned themselves properly to attack once Brian detonated the explosives. Cindy existed her car with an urgency to reach a police officer to tell the someone the truth. Brian could easily be heard as she ran from the vehicle in direst. He said, “Cindy–you bitch… what in the hell are you doing? We must act now!”

Brian switched the explosives and he perished in a fiery blast. The response was a fatal experience for far too many victims trapped in the area of the destruction. The other attackers sat in a state of disbelief as children and adults burned–laid slain without even a second to spare. Rescuers scatter trying desperately to save lives, and Cindy sat screaming to the Heavens, “What have we done? What have you done, Brian?”

A police officer grabbed Cindy by the arm and detained her forcefully. The cop cuffed and led her to a law enforcement vehicle. He placed her in the backseat as she confessed, “I am sorry for what I have done here.” The weight of her consciousness felt sorrowful, damning, and no longer fearful as her words told a full retail of the events. She knew she was a damn fool for trusting in Brian’s evil plans to hurt other human beings.


The events of the day made history and lessoned many of those survived by their bravery to distrust hatred and to prove love's ability to lessen the divide. The hatred committed against the innocent people of New Orleans that day gave the communities far greater appreciation for living together as one race–a human race. The city held a festival of fellowship each year celebrating the betterment of society in the park where hatred ceased to exist ever again. A memorial honored the victims with a great dedication to their sacrifice and memories.


The memorial read, "To all those precious lives lost due to senseless violence, by the grace of God–His love finds you well in the Heavens above. We as a community redeemed in His forgiveness, we wield remorse and in the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ."

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R. E. Maynard 

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