Allen B. West - We Can Overcome: An American Black Conservative Manifesto

2020 Lt. Col. Allen B. West

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We Can Overcome
An American Black Conservative Manifesto

Brown Books Publishing Group
Dallas, TX / New York, NY
www.BrownBooks.com
(972)381-0009

A New Era in Publishing

Publishers Cataloging-In-Publication Data

Names: West, Allen, 1961- author.

Title: We can overcome : an American Black conservative manifesto / Lt. Col. Allen B. West (Ret.).

Description: Dallas, TX ; New York, NY : Brown Books Publishing Group, [2020] | Includes bibliographical references.

Identifiers: ISBN 9781612544335

Subjects: LCSH: Conservatism--United States. | African Americans--Politics and government. | African American families--UnitedStates. | United States--Race relations--Political aspects. | AfricanAmericans--Social conditions.

Classification: LCC JC573.2.U6 W47 2020 | DDC 320.520973--dc23

eISBN 978-1-61254-448-9
LCCN 2019912549

Printed in the United States
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Pictured on the cover: Booker T. Washington,
Second Lieutenant Henry O. Flipper, Frederick Douglass,
Thomas Sowell, and Madam C. J. Walker

For more information or to contact the author, please go to
www.TheOldSchoolPatriot.com.

This book is dedicated to two black men. First, my ideological mentor, Booker T. Washington. He will always be, to me, the father of black conservatism. Washington is a role model whose exemplary rise up from slavery should be an inspiration to us all. He knew that education is the great equalizer, and his philosophy is one that can restore not just the American black community, but America as a whole.

Secondly, I would like to dedicate this book to the first black commissioned officer in our US Army, United States Military Academy graduate, Second Lieutenant Henry O. Flipper. Without his perseverance, it may not have been possible for subsequent generations, including myself, to follow in his footsteps as proud American black commissioned military officers.

Booker T. Washington, Henry O. Flipperyou gave us a blueprint and a roadmap to show how we can overcome.

INTRODUCTION

I was born on February 7, 1961, at Atlantas Hughes Spalding Hospital. I often tell folks that you cannot get more Atlanta than someone like myself, born in the Grady hospital system and a graduate of Henry W. Grady High School. The only thing missing from the ultimate trifecta would have been growing up in Grady Homes. Back in 1961, when I came into the world, Hughes Spalding Hospital was specifically for blacks. Today, of course, that is no longer the case, as it is a childrens healthcare facility. Some things, such as the hospital, have changed for the better; other things in the black community have changed for the worse.

I am truly blessedno, honoredto be able to say that I grew up in Atlantas historic Old Fourth Ward neighborhood. What makes the Fourth Ward so historic? Well, simple: it was the home of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Yes, he was born and raised there also. Auburn Avenue in Old Fourth Ward was the home of the black civil rights movement and is where Dr. King and his wife Coretta Scott King were laid to rest. The headquarters of the Southern Christian Leadership Council was also on Auburn Avenue, along with a multitude of blackowned businesses and the professional offices of doctors (such as mine, Dr. Harper) and lawyers.

Right off Auburn Avenue is a little street called Butler. There sits the historic Butler Street YMCA, the place where I perfected my basketball game and learned to swim and box. At the intersection of Boulevard Avenue and Auburn Avenue was my elementary school, Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic. Our Lady of Lourdes is the oldest black Catholic parish in Atlanta. I even have a copy of my fifthgrade class photo on my cell phone. My elementary school is no more; it is just a community center now. Like I said, some things have not changed for the better.

I grew up with two awesome parents, Herman Buck West and Elizabeth Thomas Snooks West. I tell much of their story in my first book, Guardian of the Republic. If anyone wants to know where my fundamental principles, values, and convictions came from, well, ya can thank ol Buck and Snooks. Dad was a World War II veteran and Mom served for more than twentyfive years with an army recruiting command and the Sixth Marine Corps District headquarters. They are buried together in Marietta National Cemetery. As they were in life, so they are in death: one man and one woman.

From my mom and dad, I learned so many important maxims and ol sayings that have shaped my life, such as never read your own press, and never drink your own tub water, a hit dog will holler, and the best one: never let your skin color be seen as an obstacle. They were echoing the famous words from Dr. Kings I Have a Dream speech, in which he hoped for a nation where his children would be judged by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin.

My parents were registered DemocratsJohn Lewis was my congressional representative growing upbut the values of my parents were faith, family, individual responsibility, education, and service to our nation. My mom and dad decided not to send me to the community public schools, C. W. Hill and John Hope. As I mentioned before, their choice was to send me to Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic School, even though we were congregants at Fort Street United Methodist Church on Boulevard Avenue. They knew early on that education is indeed the great equalizer that opens to the equality of opportunity.

Mom and Dad had big dreams, and that is why they left southern Georgia and moved to Atlanta in 1959. Dad bought a home on 651 Kennesaw Avenue NE; it was $19,000. I will never forget the day when ol Buck West made that final mortgage payment. Mom and Dad were truly owners of their own home, and to this day, I have always sought to own my own home, not rent. But it was there on those steps that Corporal Herman West Sr. told me, his middle son, There is no greater honor than wearing the uniform of the United States, and that is why I want you to be the first officer in our family.

See, my elder brother, Herman Jr., had enlistednot been drafted, enlistedin the US Marine Corps and served as an infantryman in Vietnam. He, like my dad in World War II, was wounded in combat at a place called Khe Sanh and left the corps as a lance corporal. Mom and Dad wanted something greater for their middle boy, and I was committed to fulfilling their dream and achieving my aspiration. And it happened, on July 31, 1982, at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville in the old Stokely Athletic Center; they pinned on my gold bars, making me a second lieutenant in the US Army. A proud day for Buck and Snooks.

One of my favorite stories to tell about my mom is from when I was playing high school football. See, Mom was a true southern woman; she loved sports and was not about raising any baby boy. Back in the day, there was no such thing as targeting in football; matter of fact, if you didnt try to clock a guy headfirst, you were considered a wussy. Well, I had a little reputation as a vicious hitter, and in one game I set my sights on a running back. We were like two rams hitting head to head. Yep, I got him, but the collision left me woozydazed and confused, as the Led Zeppelin song goes. I came to my senses on the sideline after several engagements with smelling sauce (more like skunk juice). I heard a faint voice in my ear, a familiar tone: my moms soft, sweet southern accent. She had come down out of the stands. She was not screaming or hysterical; she was rather calmalthough she did have a serious temper. I will never forget her whispering softly, Allen, are you OK?