Coming Soon.
I think now is a good time to share my worst experience of black mob violence. It was in the summer of 97’ in NJ. We were leaving the Camden venue that has changed names several times. We were waiting to cross the Bridge over into Philadelphia but were sitting there for about 20 minutes with no movement. I had seen a sign for Rt 30 and thought I’d take it back to Lancaster. Big mistake. A convoy of several vehicles (whom we did not know) were leaving the venue and attempting to leave the city en route to Rt 30.
We were the second vehicle in this convoy; the first stopped at a red light. Now this was well after 1am in the morning, but the streets were packed as if it were a hot midsummer afternoon. I heard someone yell, “Damn yo, they stopped at a red light!”; next thing you know all of the vehicles were being pelted with bricks, liquor bottles, etc., and someone threw a piece of cinder block through my back passenger side window, shattering it and just missing my six year old daughter who was sleeping in the back seat (they likely didn’t see her but I don’t think it would have mattered if they did).
We GTFO in a hurry. About a mile or so down the road we came to a fork in the road that had a cop sitting in the intersection.
Me and several other drivers stopped, got out of our vehicles and told the officer what happened. He actually asked me if I could identify them, which makes me chuckle to this day. While us drivers were conversing, the cop got back into his vehicle and sped away. My girlfriend at the time asked me if we were going to “wait for the cop”. I said “Hell no; he left us smack dab in the middle of a ghetto war zone!”.
One of the drivers offered to allow us to follow him to 30 and we made it home alive. When I told friends of the story each one boasted what they would’ve done and I called bullshit, because I have absolute confidence had I gotten out of that vehicle I wouldn’t be alive today. It would’ve been a feast
