JOINT BASE ELMENDORF-RICHARDSON Kings Mountain reaches an altitude of 5,800 feet above sea level, towering nearly 3,000 feet above the Matanuska River valley below, and there’s really no way that a photo can convey the impression of standing there in person looking up at that massive peak in three-dimensional space. Breathtaking is all I can say, and while the Alaska Chamber of Commerce isn’t paying me to say this — c’mon, hit the freaking tip jar — I’d certainly recommend that every American should pay a visit.
About three hours from now, our plane leaves for the return flight home, and we’ve had a wonderful time during our visit. Just driving along the highways here is a splendid adventure, surrounded by vast forests of fir, birch and cottonwood, with gigantic mountains on every horizon, their peaks often shrouded in clouds, making them look like scenery from a Lord of the Rings movie: “Here be orcs!”
‘Who you calling an ‘orc,’ mister?’
Our granddaughter Juniper is about two months old and, as you can see, is about twice the size of a 12-ounce cup of coffee. That photo was taken Saturday at the Alaska Zoo, where we spent about five hours, including a break at the zoo coffee shop where we enjoyed some entertainment.
Walk don’t run to see the SpeNerds
The SpeNerds (their name a play on words for the Spenard neighborhood of Anchorage) bill themselves as “Alaska’s Premier Instrumental Surf Trio,” and let no man dispute their claim to that honor. Among the various tunes they performed was Dick Dale’s classic “Misirlou” (which gained renewed popularity in the soundtrack of Pulp Fiction). At one point during their performance, they played the theme song from Goldfinger, and talking to them after the gig, while they were packing up their gear, I suggested that should have been segued into “Secret Agent Man” by Johnny Rivers, to which guitarist Fred Brosius replied that they’d played that one before I arrived. My son plays guitar, and I was telling him how the surf rock sound came about at a period when the electric guitar was still something of a novelty, and guitarists were experimenting with effects like reverb and tremolo, and this sonic experimentation must be appreciated in its historic context. Cultural education is an ongoing obligation of parenthood. Meanwhile . . .
The sergeant gives Juniper airborne training
We spent the Fourth of July at the Glacier View Car Launch, and I apologize that I don’t have any videos of my own to share, but they’re easy to find online. And, of course, I bought the T-shirt, because what’s the point of visiting Alaska if you don’t bring home some souvenirs?
The sergeant and his familyWith Mrs. McCain at the Car Launch
Well, we weren’t just tourists, here for sightseeing. We wouldn’t have visited Alaska if not for the fact that our son and his family are here, and this was our first chance to see our newest grandchild. They’ll be coming to visit us at Christmas, but for now I must pack up the laptop and head to the airport, leaving just enough time for me to once more remind readers of the Five Most Important Words in the English Language:
Most “mass shootings” in urban America are actually shootouts between rival gangs, or personal disputes that turn into gunfights in crowded areas where bystanders are among the killed and wounded. And, since we’re clarifying phrases, let’s admit that “urban America” is a polite euphemism for where black people live. We have been taught by the news media to think of “mass shootings” as a category of crime whose perpetrators are crazy white men, e.g., Charles Whitman, who killed 15 people on the University of Texas campus in 1966, or Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, who killed 13 people at Columbine High School in 1999.
The point is that any discussion of “mass shootings” involves stereotypes, simply because of the way the media covers crime. The Gun Violence Archive (GVA) defines a mass shooting as one that involves “a minimum of four victims shot, either injured or killed,” distinguishing this from the category of mass murder, which the FBI defines as “four or more victims, killed, not including the shooter. Mass Murder by gun is a subset of the Mass Shooting count.” By Thursday, July 6, according to the GVA, there had been a total of 361 mass shooting incidents in the United States in 2023, of which 27 were mass murder incidents (at least four killed, not counting the shooter). Thursday was the 186th day of the year, so simple math tells us that we’re averaging about two mass shootings per day this year, and about one mass murder per week. Given the frequency of such crimes, the national media can’t give full attention to all of them, so they tend to be selective in their coverage, and therefore most mass shootings are considered to be strictly “local news.”
What happened Monday night in Philadelphia’s Kingessing neighborhood was definitely not the typical urban mass shooting. A lone gunman, wearing a ski mask and a bulletproof vest, walked down the street “aimlessly” shooting random people with an AR-15-style rifle. The gunman also carried a 9mm pistol and multiple magazines of extra ammunition. This rampage killed five people and wounded two others. Kimbrady Carriker has been charged with five counts of murder and several other felonies. Many hours elapsed after the shooting before Carriker’s name was made public, but almost as soon as it was, we learned that Kimbrady Carriker was a cross-dresser.
The main problem with mass shootings, according to liberals, is not that people get killed, but that the “far right” might blame someone — i.e., that conservatives will point out that this crime doesn’t seem to fit the preferred media narrative about who commits mass shootings. The other problem: What about his/her/their pronouns?
There was some confusion initially about Mr. Carriker’s gender identity and in a news conference on Tuesday, authorities used the pronouns “they/them.” But on Wednesday the district attorney’s office said it had no information indicating the suspect considered himself anything but male.
“It creates a situation where mostly Black and Brown people can’t be in their neighborhood enjoying summer weather. Kids — anyone — enjoying their block should not live in fear of being shot and killed,” she said Tuesday.
Now that Democrats control the state house for the first time in 12 years following last November’s election, [Council Member Jamie] Gauthier said some movement on gun control legislation has started. However, any house bills would still face opposition in the GOP-controlled state senate.
“In Pennsylvania, you have Philadelphia and Pittsburgh in the cities and outside of that, you have a lot of rural areas that don’t look like us and don’t have the same issues with everyday gun violence — and don’t have the same motivation to really cut off access to these types of weapons,” she said. “We have a long way to go to get these kinds of weapons off the street.”
There are 67 counties in Pennsylvania — Philadelphia (1.6 million people, about 12% of the state population), Allegheny (i.e., Pittsburgh, 1.2 million people, about 9% of the state population) and 65 others with about 10 million people total (about 78% of the state population). The two big cities account for slightly more than one-fifth of Pennsylvania’s population, but in 2021, when there were 1,027 homicides in the state, these two cities accounted for about two-thirds of the total; Philadelphia alone had nearly 55% of Pennsylvania’s homicide total that year.
The per capita homicide rate in Philadelphia was more than triple the rate in Pittsburgh, and more than 10 times higher than the rest of the state. This is not a gun control problem. This is a people problem; specifically, it’s about the people of Philadelphia who are either (a) part of the problem, or (b) too stupid to understand how to fix the problem.
If you’re voting for Democrats like Jamie Gauthier, you are the problem. Gauthier can only think of violent crime in terms of passing new laws to “get these kinds of weapons off the street,” so that it never occurs to her that, by enforcing existing laws, Philadelphia could get these kinds of people off the streets — put them in prison where they belong.
Or in the lunatic asylum, as would seem to be the case with Kimbrady Carriker, who not only occasionally dressed up in women’s clothing, but also at different times used his (or “their”) social media to express support for Black Lives Matter and Donald Trump. As I said of another notorious cross-dresser, Carriker is self-evidently “daft, deranged, bonkers, berserk, a few fries short of a Happy Meal and cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.” The evidence of his craziness is impossible to overlook:
Philadelphia Shooting Perp Says
He Opened Fire to Help the City
Do Something About ‘Gun Violence’
. . . The shooter accused of killing five people during a harrowing rampage in Southwest Philadelphia Monday night told police the shooting spree was an attempt to help authorities address the city’s gun violence crisis, and that a deity would be sending more people to help, according to sources familiar with the investigation.
The assertions by Kimbrady Carriker were made to police in the hours after Carriker was arrested on the 1600 block of South Frazier Street, said the sources, who requested anonymity to discuss the ongoing investigation.
Carriker first told responding officers who made the arrest that they had done a good job, the sources said. Carriker also told them the gunfire — which spanned several blocks and struck people, including two children, who had no apparent connection to one another — was an attempt to help police because “all these guys are out there killing people,” the sources said.
I keep telling you: Crazy People Are Dangerous. And the national media will now decide this is strictly “local news.”
JOINT BASE ELMENDORF-RICHARDSON
“What do you mean, no fireworks?”
It was then explained to me that, because it never gets fully dark in Alaska during the Midnight Sun season, a fireworks display is impractical. What do Alaskans do for the Fourth of July?
They go to Glacier View — about 100 miles northeast of Anchorage, up the Matanuska River valley — for the annual Car Launch.
Old vehicles are rolled down a hill and off a cliff for the entertainment of a crowd of thousands. They’ve been doing this since 2005, and it’s become like race day at Talladega, an all-day redneck festival — Alabama in Alaska, essentially. Looks like fun. We’re going.
Investigators in Baltimore are searching for multiple suspects in a mass shooting that turned a beloved annual neighborhood block party into chaos early Sunday, killing two people and injuring 28 others, most of whom were teens, officials said.
The search for the shooters – investigators believe at least two were involved in the incident – is ongoing, Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott told CNN Monday, vowing, “We will not rest until we find those who cowardly decided to shoot up this block party and carry out acts of violence which we know will be illegal guns.” . . .
The gunfire erupted early Sunday in the south Baltimore neighborhood of Brooklyn, where community members were enjoying a yearly celebration dubbed Brooklyn Day.
Aaliyah Gonzalez, 18 . . . and Kylis Fagbemi, 20, were fatally shot, the Baltimore Police Department announced.
The dozens of surviving victims all sustained gunshot wounds, according to acting Police Commissioner Richard Worley. Five of those injured were adults aged 20 or older and the remaining 23 were teenagers ranging in age from 13 to 19, police said.
Seven of the wounded remain in hospitals, with four in critical condition and three in stable condition, the mayor noted.
Investigators are scouring the sprawling crime scene – which spans several blocks – for evidence and are poring over hours of surveillance footage, the police commissioner said. Officials have also urged community members to come forward with any relevant information or video footage that may assist in the investigation.
A reward for information leading to the capture of the suspects has been raised to $28,000, Worley said at a news conference Monday.
While police have provided no description of the shooters, my hunch is that they’re probably not Trump supporters, IYKWIMAITYD. But this didn’t stop the mayor from trying to shift the blame:
“Mayor Scott, you said this year alone Baltimore PD confiscated 1,300 illegal weapons. Do you have a sense of where guns are coming from, the sort of illegal supply of guns are coming from into the city?” CNN anchor Audie Cornish asked.
“These guns come into Maryland – I want to be very clear about this – because Maryland has gun laws that actually have an impact. We have a ghost gun ban, which is why you see those numbers coming down. But these weapons come from Virginia. They come from Texas. They come from Florida. They come from Alabama. They come from everywhere in this country,” the mayor replied, blaming guns and not thugs for the carnage.
“Here we are dozens of years later, decades later at this point and we’re still dealing with mass shootings because of the inaction to deal with this issue on a national level. This can no longer be an issue that falls to the feet of local police, local elected officials or state governments,” Scott continued, seeming to suggest a larger crackdown on firearms on a national level is needed.
It’s not the people of Baltimore — the ones who elected Brandon Scott as their mayor — who are to blame, it’s those out-of-state guns! See, the citizens of Baltimore are all innocent angels, and their city would be a peaceful utopia, were it not for those bad people in other states — Virginia, Texas, Florida, Alabama — who refuse to “deal with this issue on a national level.” The CNN audience actually believes this absurd excuse, because their entire worldview would collapse if they ever stopped to think that perhaps the kind of people who vote for Democrats are anything other than virtuous. No CNN viewer would ever consider the possibility that the citizens of Baltimore are less virtuous than the people of Florida, who reelected Gov. Ron DeSantis in a landslide.
JOINT BASE ELMENDORF-RICHARDSON
When my son told us we were going for a hike Saturday, my first thought was, “We’re going to get eaten by bears.” A quick Google search (“thunder bird falls + grizzly bear”) turned up several results, including a recent story with this quote:
“Bear encounters can happen anywhere in Anchorage, in Alaska,” Fish and Game Assistant Area Biologist Cory Stantorf said. “So regardless of where you’re at, whether it’s a viewing deck or the Anchorage Coastal Wildlife Refuge, Kincaid, you always have to be prepared and ready for an encounter with wildlife, whether it’s bear, moose, wolves.”
“Nothing to worry about,” said my son, as he loaded his .44 revolver and packed it into the holster strapped to his chest. “Just in case.”
By the way, notice how the Fish and Game biologist spoke of “bear encounters,” rather than “bear attacks.” Political correctness run amok. I expect this kind of euphemism from Democrats in Philadelphia (“Carjacking encounters can happen anywhere”) but this is Alaska, OK? We’re talking the Final Frontier, pioneers in the wilderness. When I “encounter” a gigantic omnivorous wild beast with fangs and claws, this is a bear attack, I don’t care what you call it. Anyway . . .
We headed up the highway to Thunder Bird Falls, which is in Chugach State Park. An interesting Alaska cultural note: “Chugach” is a compound word, from the native chu (“eaten by”) and gach (“bears”).
On our way to adventure.A helpful map near the park entrance, showing visitors where they can get eaten by grizzly bears (i.e., everywhere)
Thunder Bird Falls is on the Eklutna River, which is less than 12 miles long, tumbling down from the top of a mountain to the Cook Inlet in the Gulf of Alaska. The inlet is named for 18th-century British explorer Captain James Cook, who sailed into the inlet seeking the fabled Northwest Passage. Given the trend whereby Mount McKinley has been renamed “Denali” (because that’s what the natives allegedly called it), it’s probably only a matter of time before Cook Inlet gets renamed, because you can’t name stuff after white guys anymore. Meanwhile . . .
Another interesting Alaska cultural fact: Eklutna is also a compound word, from the native eklu (“food for”) and utna (“grizzly bears”).
If you’re getting tired of my dark sarcasm, imagine how my wife felt as I was cracking these jokes all the way to the park. Facing danger with a smile on your face — that’s just the way I roll. And because of my habitual sarcasm, you may think I was joking when I talked about my son strapping a .44 to his chest before we left the house.
See the revolver handle sticking out of the holster? In addition to being a Ranger-qualified Army Airborne sergeant first class, my son is also a serious hunting enthusiast, who is currently planning bow-hunting expeditions for mountain sheep (aoudad) this fall. On our trip to Thunder Bird Falls, he was telling me something about the state game laws that protect the bears, and I was thinking, “Shouldn’t the laws be about protecting people?” Fortunately, there is a loophole in the laws, so that it’s not illegal to kill a bear in self-defense, but because this is 2023, I’m sure some environmentalist version of Ben Crump would show up to lead a protest claiming the bear was an honor student who was just minding his own business when you killed it: “No justice! No peace!”
Anyway, my son had a pistol strapped to his chest, and a two-month-old baby girl strapped to his back, because he’s a badass that way.
Grandma and Eliza: Smile and say, ‘Bears!’
So now we had the family ready for the hike up the trail, and if I was (mostly) joking about the danger of a “bear encounter,” soon I encountered something perfectly calculated to inspire fear.
OH MY DEAR GOD! While I’d been clowning around about the prospect of being eaten by grizzly bears, it hadn’t occurred to me that this trail followed the edge of a deep mountain gorge. Exactly how high was that “STEEP CLIFF” the sign was warning me about? I don’t know, because I’m so afraid of heights I didn’t dare get close enough to look.
It’s weird how my acrophobia is selective. Like, I’m not afraid of every high-altitude situation. We’d flown over 3,000 miles to get to Alaska, and that didn’t scare me at all. And when I was a kid, it was nothing to climb way up in the biggest poplar tree in the neighbor’s yard. But put me on the edge of a precipice — no, I can’t stand that. It terrifies me. Any action-adventure film where the hero is dangling off the side of a skyscraper? Nope. Never see those scenes. Got my eyes closed.
That first sign, warning me how close I was to the “STEEP CLIFF” — plummeting hundreds of feet to my death — caused me to notice how narrow the trail was, and how crowded it was with tourists who seemed utterly heedless of their proximity to “DANGER.”
When I’d started out up the trail, my main concern was about the my-thighs-are-getting-sore steepness of the climb. Once I realized there was a “STEEP CLIFF” just a few feet to my left, however, my concern shifted to the fact that there were whole families of tourists, some of them with dogs on leashes, carelessly loping up and down this trail with utter disregard of the “DANGER” nearby. And the trail was barely wide enough for three people to walk side-by-side safely, so that when I’d see a cluster of tourists approaching, I’d get wwaaaayy over to the right side of the trail to let them pass. And, every 40 or 50 yards up the trail, there’d be another one of those signs: “DANGER! STEEP CLIFF! STAY ON TRAIL!” And I’d be muttering, “Yeah, you didn’t have to tell me twice.”
About a half-mile up the trail, we reached the “Gorge Overlook.”
Family members foolishly risk their lives.
It must be explained that I also have vicarious acrophobia — it’s not just that I’m afraid of heights, but I also get freaked out by seeing other people near the edge of a precipice, especially my kids. Like, when the boys were little, we’d hike up to Black Rock, and I’d be a bundle of nerves whenever they’d go to the edge of those cliffs. While I could control my own risk — I ain’t going anywhere near the edge, if I can help it — the children were beyond my control, and I was deathly afraid of them falling off. Wonderful irony that my son should have become a paratrooper, but “out of sight, out of mind.” I can ignore Bob’s death-defying career choices, because I don’t have to see it, and am therefore capable of blocking it out of my consciousness. Meanwhile . . .
Staying far away from danger
While everybody else was RISKING THEIR LIVES at the “Gorge Overlook,” I was on the other side of the trail, chilling out — and by “chilling out,” of course I mean, avoiding psychiatric trauma.
Should I mention that I dislike the word “acrophobia”? Because a “phobia” is an irrational fear, whereas being 300 feet above a river gorge is a real danger, and therefore my fear is perfectly rational. The crazy people are the ones who can stare down at the bottom of that cliff and not freak out, but the psychiatric community doesn’t have a word for that.
My daughter-in-law laughs at the danger
See what I mean? She’s standing next to a sign that clearly says “DANGER,” and she’s laughing at my (entirely rational) fear.
It’s Alaska. It’s about survival on the frontier — basically living inside a Jack London novel, and I’m pretty sure his protagonists never took any unnecessary risks, simply because life was so difficult they didn’t have time for cheap thrills. But nonetheless, we continued hiking up to the “Falls Overlook,” with me trailing behind so that I could navigate around the clusters of dumbass tourists who kept coming down the trail with no apparent concern about the “STEEP CLIFF” on one side.
As we approached the overlook, the path turned into a sort of wooden deck, with rails on either side. DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN! We were literally suspended over the side of the cliff by some kind of jerry-rigged cantilever construction that I’m certain would not pass a safety inspection in any of the Lower 48 states. The headlines were easy to imagine:
JOURNALIST KILLED WHEN OBESE TOURIST
CAUSES OVERLOOK WALKWAY COLLAPSE
Even if I’m not as skinny as I used to be, still I’m easily 100 pounds lighter than some of the tourists who were clomping around up there.
So the family went ahead of me to the overlook, while I hung back waiting for the crowd to clear out. Because if I’m going onto an overlook deck, I’m sure as hell not going onto it while it’s occupied by:
7 or 8 fat tourists;
5 or 6 of their clumsy low-IQ children;
and
3 or 4 dogs.
What is it with people taking their dogs everywhere they go? Like, it’s important for your dogs to have the cultural enrichment of travel? Perhaps most people don’t think about this, and maybe my misanthropic streak was aggravated by the circumstances, but COULD YOU IDIOTS PLEASE LEAVE YOUR DOGS HOME when I’m trying to walk a trail marked with “DANGER STEEP CLIFF” signs every 50 yards?
Finally, the crowd thinned out enough, and I was ready.
Smile for the camera!
You may notice in that picture that my left hand is very firmly gripped on the rail, because I’m surviving, like a Jack London hero. Also notice that I’m wearing red sneakers. Those aren’t my sneakers. I’d expected to wear my normal street shoes — tasseled loafers — for this hike, but my son insisted on lending me a pair of his sneakers, and boy, I’m glad he did. As bad as it was going up that “DANGER STEEP CLIFFS” trail, it would have been a thousand times worse if I’d been wearing slick-soled loafers instead of those sneakers. Grateful for every small advantage.
My son’s family.
Despite my advanced age, I out-hiked everybody on the way back down the mountain. It wasn’t even close. Smile for the camera — snap! — and then I set off at a blistering pace, because the faster I went, the sooner I’d be away from “DANGER STEEP CLIFFS.” By the time the rest of the family got to the bottom of the trail, I’d been sitting there 15 minutes, smoking a cigarette, smiling like the hero of a Jack London novel.
Throwing in The Big Yellow Button here because I hope you’re enjoying this tale of my Alaska adventures enough to hit the freaking tip jar. And don’t worry about the IRS, because of course, I’ve got plenty of tax-deductible business expenses from this trip. This is one of the beauties of being a Professional Journalist™ in America — anything becomes a “business expense” if you write about it. You write about travel? Tax-deductible business expense. You write about food?
Having survived the trip to Thunder Bird Falls, and to celebrate not getting eaten by bears or falling off a cliff, we headed up to Palmer, where we dined at La Fiesta Mexican Restaurant. This was the occasion of even more of my habitual sarcasm, because who else would travel to the arctic wilderness to eat Mexican food? And as we were heading up there, I already knew what I was going to order, because the menu in every Mexican restaurant has it — the #1 Combination Plate, with a beef taco, chicken enchilada, rice and beans. There is nothing more predictable than the #1 Combination Plate, which is why I always order it. And, wearing my Professional Journalist™ hat as a food critic, I can tell you that La Fiesta Mexican Restaurant serves excellent food in large portions. My wife ordered the vegetarian burrito and it was ENORMOUS! As soon as they brought it out, I was like, “Just go ahead and bring us a take-out box, because there’s no way she’s going to eat that whole thing.”
After dinner, we did a bit of sightseeing in downtown Palmer — the view of the mountains is breathtaking — then went for ice cream at The Big Dipper, which is also excellent, the Professional Journalist™ said.
Having survived the wilderness — in a thrilling Jack London way — I took a long nap when we got back, and now, after 2,000 words, I must remind you of the Five Most Important Words in the English Language:
JOINT BASE ELMENDORF-RICHARDSON, Alaska
After an exciting day when we visited Thunder Bird Falls and had dinner in Palmer, I went immediately to bed, about 7 p.m. local time Saturday. Around midnight, my wife woke me up to show me the video she had captured of a bear walking around outside our son’s house. I tried to get back to sleep, but about 1:30 a.m., gave up and came downstairs, intending to write up our Saturday activities. So I went outside to smoke a cigarette, and when I glanced up from my phone — there it was!
A police officer in Rantoul, Illinois — a town of 12,000 people, about 15 miles north of Champaign, and 120 miles south of Chicago — approaches a car that he recognizes as having fled at high speed a couple months earlier. The driver, later identified as 20-year-old Jheremia [sic] Xavier McKown, begins speaking in what might be called a ghetto way, which was confusing to me. This guy looked white, so why was he talkin’ like a brotha out the ‘hood, y’know what I be sayin’?
His behavior was similarly distinctive, acting like every felon I’ve seen in these Police Activity videos (and I must have watched hundreds by now) when apprehended in the midst of felonious activity. The cop is like, “stop reaching in the car” and yet McKown keeps reaching. The cop finally decides to pull him out of the car and a struggle ensues, even as McKown tries to pretend he doesn’t understand why the cop wants to handcuff him. Not to spoil the ending, but there were six pounds of marijuana in the car, as well as three loaded handguns — two Glocks under the driver’s seat, and one in the possession of the passenger, 18-year-old Jordan Richardson. Richardson’s pistol had an extended magazine, and Illinois investigators later determined it had been stolen during the burglary of a vehicle in Colorado. While McKown is wrestling with the cop, resisting arrest, Richardson takes off running on foot. This is ghetto thug behavior, except it’s not happening in a ghetto, it’s happening on a tree-lined street in a picturesque small town. And who are these thugs, anyway?
Jheremia Xavier McKown
You can see why I was confused. McKown (whose mother apparently couldn’t spell “Jeremiah” correctly) is very, very light-skinned.
Cafe au lait, with extra au lait. Almost as white as Rachel Dolezal.
Here we encounter a problem with the belief that the problems experienced by black people are a result of hereditary inferiority. The “DNA is destiny” crowd will have to explain why this guy — who’s got to be at least 75% Caucasian — was thuggin’ like a ghetto homeboy, whereas there are black people of 100% African ancestry with MIT engineering degrees. Clarence Thomas grew up in the segregated South and became a Supreme Court justice, whereas this damned-near-white kid grew up in small-town Illinois and became a felon. Say what you will, this disparity just can’t be explained by genetics, nor do I think the “social justice” crowd can explain how McKown is more “oppressed” by systemic racism in 2023 than Justice Thomas was in the Jim Crow era.
People don’t become drug dealers because of “oppression.” There is no reason to believe McKown was denied opportunities for education or employment because of his race. He just would rather deal dope than to work any legal job. Where did he develop that preference? I don’t know, but you can’t blame “white supremacy.” Meanwhile . . .
[State’s Attorney Julia] Rietz asked for a $2 million bond for McKown after informing Beckett that McKown had a prior juvenile adjudication for attempted armed robbery. In 2020, Rietz said, McKown tried to rob two cannabis dealers, and one of them shot McKown in the leg.
“This is a defendant who is a danger to the community. Because of him, Rantoul is in an uproar,” Rietz argued.
The “uproar” was because McKown’s passenger who ran from cops, Jordan Richardson, ended up getting shot to death, but before we get to that, let’s get a bit more information about McKown:
A Champaign man charged in connection with an incident that led to the death of his friend in Rantoul on Wednesday will have to jump through some hoops before he can be released from jail.
Judge Roger Webber ordered late Friday afternoon that before Jheremia McKown may post bond, he will have to persuade a judge that his bond money is coming from a “legitimate and lawful” source.
State’s Attorney Julia Rietz filed the motion for a “source of bail” hearing after Judge Chad Beckett set bond for McKown at $500,000 following his arraignment on charges of armed violence, possession with intent to deliver cannabis, aggravated unlawful use of weapons and resisting arrest. . . .
In written support of her request for a source of bail hearing, Rietz repeated the allegations surrounding McKown’s arrest by Rantoul police about 12:30 p.m. Wednesday. . . .
After the arraignment, McKown made a phone call from the jail — which inmates are informed are being recorded — to another man with two pending weapons cases who was able to post $15,000 in cash to win his own release in February despite telling a judge he was “looking for work” and had no income.
That man asked McKown what his bond was and when McKown told him he would need $50,000 to be released, the man replied, “That’s what we were expecting, we got you bro.”
“It is believed that the cash found (in McKown’s car) is from the fruits of illegal narcotics activity, and that there is reason to believe the defendant has access to other large amounts of U.S. currency derived from the same illicit activities,” Rietz wrote.
“We got you bro” — his criminal associates promising to bail him out with the money they make from dealing dope. They’re career criminals. They’ve never earned an honest nickel in their lives.
And as for Jordan Richardson . . .
Jordan Richardson (right) hugs his mother, Amy
His mother, Amy Richardson, was the subject of a friendly article in Smile Politely, “Champaign-Urbana’s culture magazine”:
Mother refuses to let authorities demonize son killed by Rantoul police
“I can’t sleep. The time that I have [fallen] asleep, I just woke up with a nightmare,” said Amy Richardson, whose son Jordan was shot and killed by police in Rantoul last week. “I keep rounding that corner and hearing those two shots and then I just wake up.”
It was just after noon on Wednesday, June 7th when Amy dropped off her son at a friend’s car and left. She noticed police coming up the street and turned her car around. She watched as police approached the two Black youth in the car and arrested 20-year-old Jheremia McKown. She heard McKown cry out, “I’m not fighting, I’m not resisting.”
(She knew her son was hanging around McKown. Indeed, his mother gave him a ride to meet up with McKown. Not going to say she’s to blame for her son’s death, but . . .)
Amy then saw her son Jordan take off running. She drove around the corner to try to intercept him. Rantoul police Sergeant Jerry King, a ten-year veteran of the force, chased after him.
“All I heard was pop pop,” she recalled, “and I turn the corner, and my son was laid out in a driveway.” Police would not let her near her son as he lay bleeding. He was transported to Carle Hospital in an ambulance. Amy frantically demanded to see her son at the hospital, but police would not let her. Police were “so cold” about it, telling her, “No, his body’s evidence.”
Jordan Richardson, who was 18 years old and just recently graduated from Rantoul Township High School, was found to have a single gunshot wound in his chest at 1:42 p.m. and pronounced dead shortly after.
State’s Attorney Julia Rietz is painting this picture with a broad brush. Focus has been on the case of McKown — alleged to be involved in a high-speed car chase in April, found last week with six pounds of marijuana in his car, possessing two loaded handguns, and fighting with police — who is held on a half-million dollar bond. Because of McKown, Rietz said at arraignment, Rantoul was in an “uproar.”
Jordan’s death at the hands of police has already been deemed justified in the media for his association with McKown. “They’re just trying to make him seem like he’s just some low down thug,” Amy said. “No, I refuse, I absolutely refuse to let them do this.”
(Just hanging out with his buddy, in a car with six pounds of weed and three pistols, but he’s not “some low down thug.” Thanks, Mom.)
“My son was an amazing kid,” Amy said. “He was so smart. Anybody around here that you ask, they don’t have a bad thing to say about my son.” . . .
(“He was so smart,” mom says, and yet her son seemed to have trouble comprehending the simple sentence, “Drop the gun!”)
The shooting at a balloon launch for Jordan on Friday, June 9th has also cast a shadow over events. An individual with a rifle shot into the crowd, miraculously missing everyone, and fled on foot. . . .
(Call me a cynic, but when you get shot by cops and then gunfire breaks out at your memorial “balloon launch,” you might just be “some low down thug.”)
“These Rantoul police have been on my son’s heels for months now,” Jordan’s mom told me. In October 2022, Jordan was shot at while visiting a friend at Golfview Village apartments in Rantoul. When police arrived, she said, they tackled Jordan and left him with a “big knot” on his forehead. Police seized his phone, Amy said, although, “He was the victim.” After the incident, Jordan was “fired up” and “angry.” Amy sent Jordan to Colorado after he was shot at because she was “scared for [her] son’s safety.”
(Gosh, somebody shot at Jordan while he was “visiting a friend” — this happens all the time in a picturesque small town with a population of 12,000, right? — and it was his mom who sent Jordan to Colorado. After he got shot by the cops, they found that Jordan’s gun had been stolen in Colorado. Coincidence, I’m sure.)
He finished high school early and returned for the graduation ceremony a couple weeks ago.
“I feel so twisted,” Amy said, “I know he wanted to come here and graduate, you know, and walk the stage. He earned that right. But then I just keep questioning myself that I made the right decision by letting him come back here.” . . .
(She could have left him in Colorado, and then her “low down thug” son could have gotten shot by Colorado police instead.)
“Was my son a threat to you because of the color of his skin?” Amy wondered. “Because he had dreads? What made my son so threatening to you that it had to go like this? I just don’t understand. I really don’t understand.”
Well, ma’am, what made your son “so threatening” was probably that stolen pistol with the extended magazine he was carrying when he took off running from that car — you know, the car with six pounds of weed in it? The car that had fled from police at high speed two months earlier? The car driven by the criminal Jheremia McKown?
Wonder no more. This week we got police bodycam video, as well as home surveillance camera video from nearby residences, all of which are referenced in the report issued by the State’s Attorney’s office.
State’s attorney: Rantoul officer’s use of lethal force was legally justified
The same officer who shot Jordan Richardson as he ran because he refused to drop a gun also tried to save his life.
“He just wouldn’t drop the (expletive) gun. I don’t understand,” Sgt. Jerry King said to a fellow officer as he applied pressure to the chest of the 18-year-old he shot seconds earlier.
On Wednesday, State’s Attorney Julia Rietz concluded that the actions of the 10-year officer on the afternoon of June 7 constituted a justifiable use of lethal force.
“Sgt. Jerry King’s use of deadly force in firing his weapon in Richardson’s direction while Richardson was in possession of a firearm and disobeying commands to drop the weapon were legally justifiable given the totality of the circumstances,” she said. . . .
Officer Rene Wissel, who made the stop of driver Jheremia McKown, radioed for help, alerting fellow officers that the person running had a gun that he dropped then picked up as he continued to run.
Officer Tyler Johnston, who arrived to help Wissel, also saw Mr. Richardson stop in the front yard of a house, reach down and pick up an object, then continue running. Johnston gave chase, yelling “drop the gun, drop the gun, police, stop,” having no apparent effect on Mr. Richardson.
King, meantime, was in his squad sport utility vehicle when he saw Mr. Richardson carrying an olive-green handgun and running between two houses in the 400 block of East Belle. He ran right in front of King’s vehicle, still carrying the gun.
State police investigators learned later that the gun found near Mr. Richardson’s body that had his fingerprints on it had been reported stolen May 20 from a car in Colorado Springs, Colo.
“As he passed the front of my patrol car, I feared that Jordan would begin firing at my squad car,” King wrote in his original police report.
Mr. Richardson turned his head to look at King as he ran past his car, which caused him to stumble and drop the gun at the edge of a driveway. Again, he picked it up and ran.
Jumping from his squad, King drew his gun, aimed at Mr. Richardson and yelled three times, loudly enough for Mr. Richardson to hear him, to drop the gun or risk being shot.
“Jordan had made it approximately 70 feet up the driveway before once again stumbling and falling forward onto the ground. I was now approximately 50 feet from Jordan,” King wrote in a report prepared after reviewing his body-camera footage. “Jordan was now still on the ground with his left hand on the ground supporting him and his gun in his right hand but facing away from me. I gave another command, ‘Drop the gun!’ and at the same time, Jordan began spinning around towards me holding his gun.
“It was at this moment, with Jordan turning towards me while armed with the handgun, that I felt he was going to shoot me,” King wrote. “I fired two rounds in quick succession at Jordan as his body, and more specifically his arm holding the gun, was spinning towards my direction.” Mr. Richardson’s last audible words were “I’m hit.”
Rietz noted that the time between when King gave his first command to when he fired was approximately six seconds.
At least eight times, cops yelled at him to drop the gun. And, in point of fact, while running from cops, Richardson accidentally dropped the gun twice, but picked it up again. “He was so smart,” his mom said.
JOINT BASE ELMENDORF-RICHARDSON
“There’s one!” Bob said, as we drove through the base on our way from the airport. I squinted, but didn’t see the moose until we were within about 30 yards. It was a young cow, not even full-grown yet, but certainly it stood more than six feet tall. A full-grown moose can be eight feet tall, and they’re all around here, so that while sighting a moose may be exciting for a tourist, the locals don’t think much about it.
Speaking of locals, did you know Anchorage has a homelessness problem? On our drive in from the airport, we came through downtown Anchorage and my son gestured to his left, telling me the homeless encampment was about 400 yards that way, and I was like, “What?” Alaska is still very much a frontier state, with a population of less than 750,000 in a vast territory. People are still coming here to homestead, staking out claims in the remote wilderness, so it’s difficult for me to see how the usual excuse — “lack of affordable housing” — can be applied to homelessness in Anchorage. This ain’t San Francisco, OK?
The Anchorage Assembly spent a large part of their June 6 meeting discussing the issue of homelessness in Anchorage.
Mayor Dave Bronson talked about the benefits of a proposed navigation center to help those who are homeless in his Mayor’s report, calling it a place that can “transform lives.”
The mayor also called the current situation where many homeless individuals are camping in the municipality’s parks and green spaces “untenable, and not quite even humane.”
“But if we spend another summer expending our time, our resources, and the public’s willingness to hear us out, I’m afraid we will never reach a modicum of solution,” said Bronson.
“I do not want people to freeze to death this winter. The nav center can prevent that.”
Hellen Fleming, one of the owners of Showdown Alaska, appeared before the assembly to testify about abatement at Cuddy Park.
Showdown Alaska is in charge of the Sundown Solstice Festival, which took place in Cuddy Park June 16 -18. The festival was a source of political controversy, as it was cited as a reason for abating – or kicking out – homeless individuals camping at the park for safety reasons.
Fleming said that Showdown Alaska wanted to protect the safety of the patrons of the concert and homeless people.
“For the sake of public safety, we were told that abatement was the right choice,” said Fleming, “My only question to the city now is, why? Why was the Sullivan closed with no plan? Why weren’t sanctioned camps created from the start? Why was there no communication to campers about this festival from the very start in the area?”
Fleming urged the Assembly to create sanctioned camps before abatement at Cuddy Park ended.
After Fleming’s testimony, the Assembly passed a resolution brought forward by Felix Rivera, who represents District 4, supporting the creation of “allowed” homeless camps in Anchorage. Mayor Dave Bronson opposed the use of the word “sanctioned camps,” citing possible liability issues with the municipality.
The passed resolution is more limited in scope compared to recommendations originally made by the Sanctioned Camps Community Task Force.
The task force originally recommended that five sites be established as homeless camps. These sites were: Centennial Park Campground, 1805 Academy Drive, land adjacent to the Clitheroe Center, the midtown National Archives site, and vacant land between Viking Drive, Reeve Boulevard, and Commercial Drive. Three sites were recommended to house up to 75 people, while the remaining two were recommended to house up to 40. The recommendation also provided names of other possible camp locations.
There’s a word for this situation, and that word is crazy.
You’re talking about homelessness in a state where the effective cost of land is zero. I mean, I don’t know how much a half-acre lot costs in the immediate vicinity of Anchorage, but if you’re willing to go further out into the boonies, land is dirt-cheap compared to what you’d pay almost anywhere in the Lower 48. Of course, this doesn’t address the major expense of living in Alaska, namely heat. The first snowfall in Anchorage is usually in October, and it lasts into April. Basically, you’ve got maybe five months of tolerable weather — May through September — amid the otherwise eternal winter. Not a good place for sidewalk sleeping.
As the mayor says, the proposal to create “allowed” homeless camps is not humane. Whatever their problems may be — drug addiction, mental illness, etc. — these people need to get someplace warm, with an actual roof over their heads, before winter arrives, and tolerating homeless encampments in Anchorage during summer is self-evidently foolish.
Did I mention that Joe Biden won Anchorage in 2020? Not by a Chicago-sized margin, but still . . . Maybe you don’t expect liberal foolishness in a GOP stronghold like Alaska, but this nonsense about creating “allowed” homeless camps shows how liberalism can be a problem anywhere. Given the harsh realities of life near the Arctic, I’d suggest a zero-tolerance policy toward homelessness. You simply can’t allow people to be sleeping outdoors in a place where the weather is so brutal most of the year. Better they should be occupying a jail cell than to let them freeze to death on the sidewalks. Or get eaten by a bear.
Did I mention there are bears all over Alaska? They’re not as numerous as moose, I don’t think, but there’s still a lot of them. If the bears ever decide to visit Anchorage’s homeless camps . . .
Well, that would be one way to solve the problem, I guess.
