Seeing John Battaglia The room was cold. It’s always cold in there. I was alone. Waiting. It seems that the purpose of prison is to wait. The seat was cold too. I laid my head on the little ledge. Sleep came quickly. I can’t remember if I dreamed or not. When you’re on death row, everything seems like a dream…or rather a nightmare. I don’t know what woke me up. Perhaps it was God. Perhaps it was the Devil.... Read more
People live. People laugh. People dance. People love Denton. Everything they could ever want and more exist within the city limits. Truth is a frightening thing. Words can make reality appear much different than it is. The veil is quite thin. When pushed aside, Denton looks very different. White people live. White people laugh. White people dance. White people love Denton. Let’s not forget that this is a city that destroyed the homes of people of color and... Read more
Does God remember me? Dust to dust. Breathe to breathe. I am God’s creation. I think. Does God remember me? Truth was close. I could feel it. Now, I don’t believe it was ever close at all. Maybe I want to. Maybe I don’t. Truth has always been a liar. Shots changed my life. They pierced the night. Somehow they found me. In the midst of the chaos, I was I. God was God. In that moment,... Read more
There is something about thrift stores. The colors. The diversity. The smell. The violence? I’ve never grown used to it. “Rev. Hood?” “Dr. Hood?” “Are you that guy from television?” “Hood?” Though the situations are different, the objective is always the same…confrontation. Most of these folks see me as a traitor to my race. Some see me as a terrorist. Many see me. When I’m approached in public, I prepare for the worst. I’ve rarely been wrong.... Read more
On most days, you will find us riding around Denton, Texas on a caravan of wheels. In order to accommodate our five children, I created a bike trailer capable of carrying everyone. Needless to say, we are a sight to behold. The meaning of life is simple…to be human. In an age of identity, desiring to be human is the apex of countercultural existence. We can talk about the ists and isms all we want…we can even completely... Read more
The records said that I pled out. I didn’t plea shit. Didn’t nobody care about me killing no nigger woman. While I’ve thought about it once or twice, I’ve come to the conclusion every time that the world is better off with one less nigger in the world. Don’t judge me. God’s just as racist as I am. The foolishness was only a minor distraction. Business was booming. We were taking in cash hand over fist.... Read more
*This column originally appeared in the Dallas Morning News on Saturday, January 20, 2018 I woke up. Fear had nested in my bones. I couldn’t see. There was something downstairs. The words penetrated the darkness. “Trump” and “win” repeated incessantly on the forgotten radio. Shock exploded. Audio of the vulgar and profane utterances filled my ears. I was terrified for the marginalized and oppressed. Their lives were already tough. Now, things were going to get much... Read more
The Tourniquet Killer Tonight, the State of Texas (that’s us) executed (killed) Anthony Shore, otherwise known as the tourniquet killer. Though the stories are slightly different, the result is the same. They were all murdered. Laurie Tremblay was 14. Maria Estrada was 21. Diana Rebollar was 9. Dana Sanchez was 16. Though the story is slightly different, the result is the same. He was murdered. Anthony Shore was 55. Who... Read more
“Fuck this shit.” Zack was beyond angry. “Another nigger coworker?!?” Heading to the door of the factory, Zack stopped. He knew the truth. “I can’t leave.” There was nowhere else he was going to find a job with this good of pay and this good of hours. “I have a child to feed now.” Cindy never left his mind. Turning around, Zack headed back to his station and stood right next to Forest. They would work together for three... Read more
We don’t get many outright victories. The work is hard and moral victories are what we are most accustomed to. While the knowledge that we are steadily moving the cause of justice along is satisfying, it is always a beautiful thing when justice breaks through swiftly and mightily. Just this past week, I saw it. The hand of God moved in a way that was as remarkable as it was unmistakable. Just a few days ago, I wrote... Read more
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