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Jan. 11, 2018 - Radio Free Nortwest - H.A. Covington
01:06:07
20180111_rfn
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Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so.
Hush, a woogle, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon, for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.
Oh, then tell me, Sean O 'Farrell, where the gathering is to be?
In the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me.
One word more for signal, token whistle of the marching tune.
Warrior pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon.
With your pike upon your shoulder.
...
...
The Manly Chest was throbbing for the blessed warning light.
Farmers passed along the valleys like the man she's lonely croon.
And a thousand blades were flashing at the rising of the moon.
At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon.
And a thousand blades were flashing at the rising of the moon.
Greetings from the Northwest Homeland, comrades.
It's January the 11th, 2018.
I'm Harold Covington, and this is Radio Free Northwest.
Okay, the first thing I need to say is that that damned upper respiratory infection, which I spent most of November fighting off, seems to have returned, so if my voice sounds a bit off, that's why.
I'm going to be getting into some serious stuff in this episode, including some material on the abominable Edgar Steele case.
So let me just leap right in on a topic that's been batted around on racial Twitter for a while, which I think I need to expound on verbally for a bit because it's something that's going to be coming up a lot in the future, and we need to figure out a protocol to deal with it.
I.e., how do we as white nationalists and separatists deal with the undeniable fact that many of the younger white people who are now coming to us and wanting to become involved with the 14 words have, shall we say, less than pristine personal track records and the odd racial, sexual, or criminal skeleton or two in their closet from their pre-racial awareness days?
I'm referring now not to certain scam artists I could name, nor to the people with hidden agendas who are clearly attempting to infiltrate our wee little movement out of ulterior motives.
I'm talking now about a small but significant number of essentially bona fide and sincere white men and women, mostly on the younger end of the scale, who were raised and mentally engineered in this completely amoral and unnatural society, and so in their teens or early twenties, which in America is still adolescence.
They did amoral and stupid and grotty things out of genuine youthful ignorance.
Now, later, these people became racially aware and came to understand that what they did in their early life was wrong, and now they are sincerely regretful and ashamed and want to make up for their past transgressions.
So, what do we do with these repentant sinners, so to speak?
Exactly where do we draw the line?
What can be overlooked and what is unforgivable?
Okay, let's be completely honest here.
This whole topic is basically a big steaming bowl of shit that I really would rather not get into at all, because every one of these cases is going to be pretty much sui generis.
That is to say, something that is completely unique to each individual concerned, and which will require an individual tailored solution like a bespoke suit.
Also, the people in what I will loosely refer to as leadership positions will have different standards.
Frankly, from what I have seen, far more slack and forgiving standards than I apparently do.
Now, let me give you an example of the way I handle these things.
Probably the best published review ever done of my Northwest novel series was written about nine years ago by a man who later turned out to be a screaming open faggot, and yet who still insists on acting as if he's one of us.
Before this was conclusively proven to me, I heard the rumors, but I refused to believe it or act without some kind of proof, or at least evidence.
In the meantime, I used the book review far and wide.
I even distributed printed copies with Northwest Front introductory packets, which a few of you may recall receiving.
Eventually, things reached the point when I had to ask this man point-blank if he was lighting the loafers, since he had not yet come out of the closet, which he has done since.
I didn't get an immediate and categorical denial.
I got waffle, which made my spidey sense tingle, but in the absence of outright proof, I continued to distribute the review on the usual excuse that regardless of possible pooftery, this person was quote-unquote doing good for the movement.
Inevitably, the time came when I was confronted with this man's written confession that he was a pervert, and I couldn't pretend not to notice any longer.
Once I no longer could extend him any benefit of the doubt, and only then, I stopped using his book review.
I will not condemn anyone without proof or evidence amounting at least to moral certainty, which realistically is as far as you can get in a lot of these cases where the legal system is in the hands of criminals.
But once that moral certainty is arrived at, there is a duty to act.
I do, and I expect everyone else to as well.
On one occasion, I supplied the evidence and testimony that sent a notorious movement pervert to prison for seven years for all the so-called good he did the movement, which was, in fact, in his case, substantial.
But contrary to one of my snappy little tweets, some ends really don't justify the means.
The question I'm constantly asked is, Hurl, Hurl, what is unforgivable?
What is the line that can't be crossed?
Just how nasty and grody do you have to be before you're cast into the outer darkness?
Realistically, what we're talking about is certain sexual, racial, or criminal situations.
And like I said, everybody's going to have their own ideas as to how much ignorance excuses misbehavior in one's youth.
I really hesitate to get into details because this would just be my personal view, and I understand that not only am I not some moral giant philosopher king who has the right to impose my standards on others, but no one would pay any attention.
Anyway, no one ever does, but here goes.
I'm actually a lot more tolerant of past foibles than most people give me credit for.
Criminal records, for one thing, because I simply don't consider the legal authorities and the courts in this country to be morally competent to decide who has done wrong and how they should be punished.
Not when there are abominations like the Edgar Steele and Johnny Logan Spencer and Bill White cases.
So the mere fact of having done time in jail is not at all a bar to participation, although, of course, it depends on what for.
I don't care, necessarily, if you did something illegal.
I do care if you did something wrong.
There is a difference.
I have several personal points of no return, so to speak.
Anything to do with homosexuality, that's just a no.
Anything to do with harming a child, either sexually or through child abuse, or kiddie porn.
No, beyond the pale.
Race mixing is something I probably shouldn't comment on, because on the one hand, I feel a deep and sickening loathing to it in women, while my attitude towards it in men is highly disapproving, but nothing near as visceral, which I recognize is indeed quite sexist and hypocritical, and which I suspect is pretty much typical of most white men.
Having to do with the remnants of our actual biological instincts.
Which is why I have such difficulty getting any traction on Andrew Anglin's residence in the Philippines where, to use his own words, when he's not working on the Daily Stormer, he is quote-unquote sport-banging brown pussy.
So, that's the first problem with me shouting the odds on misogynation.
With very great reluctance, I've been compelled to accept that this is the old view of things which I got from growing up in the last of the Old South, and that younger white people simply don't seem capable of feeling as strongly about it as I do.
Not surprising, since the ultimate goal of the entire Jewish and liberal agenda for the past 70 years is to get young white people, especially girls, to do that very thing.
They have been socially engineered into that form of bestiality from birth.
I frankly don't know what's going to happen there with people that far gone.
I can only point out that my references to the problem in the post-Victory Northwest Republic in my novels had a distinctly ropey motif.
Informing to the enemy, testifying against our own people in court.
Now that should obviously be a line crosser.
Although that one kind of went by the board when at least parts of our wee little world welcomed back Fraser Glenn Miller from his stint in the Witness Protection Program.
That whole Miller thing set a bad, bad precedent, not to mention, in my view, completely disqualifying Alex Linder from any further movement participation, but again, that's just me and my aging puritanical standards.
Miller testified against his own people in not one, but two, count them, two capital cases as in possible death penalty.
And then he gets welcomed back?
Jesus Christ on a raft!
Now, the thing is that ever since the resurrection of Glenn Miller back in the early aughts, our moral standards in white nationalism have become so notoriously slack that anybody can pretty much do any damn thing he pleases and then just wait a while for the sound and the fury to die down and the short American attention span to kick in, and subsequently, he'll be welcomed back with open arms, all being forgiven.
Then there's the matter of financial chicanery, where our standards of what's acceptable are apparently also abysmal.
I personally would have booted David Duke out of the fold when he pleaded guilty to embezzling $235,000 in white people's contributions and gambling it all away on riverboat casinos and gambling junkets to the Bahamas, and I said so at the time, and was completely ignored, as always.
Duke did his prison time, hit the ground running when they opened the gates, and he never looked back.
And the entire white nationalist movement didn't so much forgive as it just forgot.
I can't even remember the last time I saw any reference to Duke's Peccadilloes on any of our websites or in any of our publications.
The man stole $235,000 from us all, pleaded guilty to it, and it's like the whole incident just never happened.
Dear God, what I could do with that $235,000.
None of which gets us any closer to developing a protocol on dealing with these things.
Now here are my suggestions based on our wee little world as it is, not as I would like it to be.
Some of the things I say here may surprise some of you.
First off, for what may be loosely described as our leadership, insofar as we have any.
I would suggest that we start with a policy of don't ask, don't tell.
Yes, I know that can come unglued, but in some of these cases, the old saying of least said, the sooner mended applies.
Don't you be the one to kick off all the endless obsessive round and round and round.
Don't ask unless something pops up that you just can't pretend you didn't see.
More importantly, for all you dubious individuals out there who might have, shall we say, a problem with your resume, let's do you the courtesy, first off, of presuming that you are sincere and that you really do have the good of your race in the 14 words at heart.
Just as the leadership should not ask, you shouldn't tell.
Do not go running to me or anyone else gabbling out your confession and forcing us to deal with this aforementioned steaming bowl of shit yet again for the umpteenth time.
Keep your teeth together and say nothing at all for the rest of your life, unless...
Unless, like so many young American dumbasses, you left a digital or paper trail behind you, especially on social media, which never dies, as Chris Cantwell and Lauren Southern, among others, found out.
The internet is forever.
A criminal record is forever, so if you have one, don't lie about it or how you got it.
Don't tell people you did time for something honorable like a gun charge when it was for selling dope or breaking and entering.
Most mainstream media is there forever as well.
Now, MSM stuff can occasionally be explained away or buried, given their decay and credibility, but it's still damned hard.
If you know for a fact that there is a ticking time bomb in your past and the proof is just lying out there on the internet for anybody to find, you accept that you have fucked up for life.
And you can never be a leader or a public spokesman.
You can participate on the internet, under a pseudonym, and you can send money.
Depending on how bad your dirty little secret is, that's probably about it.
If it's something really bad, something so grody it would cause massive sound and fury if it were found out, then you voluntarily leave the movement.
Completely.
Never be anywhere sufficiently near us to embarrass us.
Are you listening, Dan Burroughs?
Are you listening, Kevin Alfred Strom?
Are you listening, Tom Metzger?
There are so many problem people in the past who could have spared us so much heartache and tribulation down through the years if they had just had the genuine humility and true devotion to the cause to recognize that, however it happened, their own personal fate was sealed.
And the best thing they could do for the 14 words was to go away.
This is Madonna.
To hide it well I was not ready for the fall Too blind to see the writing on the wall A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson
well Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned Till then It will burn inside of me I know where beauty lives I
know where beauty lives I've seen it once I know the one she gets The light that you could never see It
shines inside you Can't take that from me A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned Till then
It will burn inside of me The truth is never far behind You kept it hidden well If I live to tell the secret I knew then Will I ever have the chance again?
I know where beauty lives are you?
A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned Till then It will burn inside of me The truth is never far behind You kept
it hidden well If I live to tell the secret I knew that Will I ever have the chance again?
A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well If I live to tell the secret I knew that Will I ever have the chance again?
A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well I know where beauty lives are you?
In September of 2014, Edgar J. Steele died in the federal penitentiary at Victorville.
There were circumstances surrounding his death which make it very suspicious, and I've gotten into those circumstances elsewhere on this program in the past.
This is the interview that Ed did from, if memory serves, the Spokane County Jail.
And so far as I'm aware, this is the last that Ed was able to communicate with the outside world.
I do know that he was punished by the authorities for giving this interview.
I've decided when Ed died that I was not going to let this go, and I'm not going to.
Edgar Steele was judicially murdered.
He was denied the right to a fair trial.
By all accounts, he was heavily drugged during his trial.
His defense attorney was under indictment himself at the time for misappropriating his client's money, and there are strong suspicions that this man was basically persuaded for a promise of leniency in his own case to throw the case of Edgar Steele, so forth and so on.
I've gone into all this before, but it just all boils down to the fact that, no, we had a man murdered by the system, a man that I knew, and I'm not letting it go.
This interview is quite long, so I won't be able to get to the trucker in Gretchen this week, for which I apologize.
You'll be able to hear from them again next week, but for now, I'm giving the floor to the late Edgar J. Steele.
Joining me on the line is Edgar J. Steele from the Bonner County Sheriff's Jail.
This is Ed's first interview while he's in jail.
Ed, thanks for joining us today.
Thank you for having me.
I'm delighted to be here.
As you said, this is the first interview that I've given since I was arrested almost a year ago, and I'm glad to have it be with AFP.
Many people are in your corner and they want to get you out of there.
We're going to do whatever we can, obviously, within the law to make sure that happens.
Well, I know that, and I tell you, I can't say thank you enough to all the people who have contributed money, who have sent good wishes, who have...
Attended court hearings and trial.
Just everybody.
All my new friends and my old friends.
I've been overwhelmed by this and it's been a real eye-opener for me.
They say in jail that if you want to find out who your real friends are, just go to jail.
Because most of the people here find that the vast majority, if not all of their family, turns their back on them.
That their friends turn their backs on them.
That former co-workers turn their backs on them.
And I can't tell you how many guys are just dead lonely, sitting in jail and prison cells, who feel betrayed by those who should not have left them, because you also would be amazed to learn how many of these people are actually innocent.
In my case, however, I can't think of a single friend, not one single family member.
I can't think of anybody who's turned their back on me.
And I've been amazed and gratified.
I thank you all very much.
Why don't you, for the benefit of our listeners, whatever you can talk about, I don't know if there's anything that you can't talk about, but the trial that just happened and the jury's decision, obviously most people who are listening to this broadcast are familiar with the result of that, but can you give the listeners any insight into why you think it may have unfolded the way it did?
Oh, I can.
And I will.
And I'll be honest with you, Dave.
I can't think of anything that I'm not willing to talk about.
So if you've got tough questions, please ask them.
Tougher the better.
How did it happen?
Well, the trial was rigged to begin with, just like the recordings that I'm alleged to have participated in with Larry, the Idaho hitman.
The trial was rigged from start to finish, and I saw that even in the pretrial hearings.
Now, the judge hears about this.
He ain't going to be happy with me.
Well, that's life.
That's my opinion, and I'm entitled to it, and I think I can prove it, and I'm going to prove it to you right now.
The first inkling that I had that things were going to be really bad was when the government filed a motion saying that they should be allowed to invade my attorney-client privilege.
I was astounded to see the judge rule in their favor.
And they were allowed to listen in on my private attorney-client conversations with lawyers that I was consulting about my case that I had not retained and with retained lawyers.
They were allowed to listen in and make transcripts of those conversations.
The prosecutor, Tracy Whalen, even bragged to my then-public defender, Roger Piven, that she knew all of our trial strategy, as she cackled wildly.
I was astounded, because he came to me, and he was very angry, and rightly so, because he had learned for the first time that the feds had...
Transcripts of my conversations with every other lawyer I had spoken to.
That they had copies of letters that I had sent to and received from other lawyers.
Apparently, the state thinks that it has the right to invade the attorney-client privilege of anybody who isn't the actual single attorney of record.
And you're only allowed one.
That ain't the law.
I know it for a fact.
I've read these cases.
That isn't what it says.
Yes, there are some Ninth Circuit, Ninth Federal Circuit, which is the appellate level above this district court in Idaho, and that sits in San Francisco.
There are some cases that say, in limited circumstances, there can be a waiver of the attorney-client privilege when one knows that one's telephone conversation is being recorded, that you thereby essentially assent to it being recorded and listened into.
That's not the case in my case.
First of all, I had asked the jailers if there was another phone that I could use so that I could talk to my attorneys privately without other inmates around me listening.
And they said no.
I had to use one of the four telephones there in the Spokane County Jail where I was then incarcerated and nothing else.
When you call an attorney on that phone, or if you call anybody, it will tell you that it's subject to monitoring.
It doesn't say it's being recorded.
It says it's subject to.
And there is a written jail policy which supposedly governs this that says that telephone conversations will not be recorded unless there is a court order for such.
There was never any such court order issued in my case.
Therefore, I felt confident that my conversations with attorneys, that my correspondence with attorneys, was privileged.
After I had a lot of it, and after I had discussed everything about my case that was possible to discuss with other attorneys, either by mail or by telephone, then I learned that they weren't privileged.
Because that's when the judge ruled that the federal prosecutors could listen in and have transcripts of all those conversations, save only my public defender.
Now, that may seem like a long answer, but the question you've asked is really the single That's the first
inkling that I had that something was...
Well, that wasn't the first one.
I mean, the day I was arrested was my first inkling.
The second one really came several months later when this motion was heard and the judge ruled that the prosecution had the right to listen in to my attorney-client telephone calls and also to duplicate letters between me and other lawyers except only my appointed public defender.
And that really sucks.
Particularly since I didn't find out about it until after I had already extensively discussed everything that had to do with my case.
We walked into trial with a serious disadvantage.
And that wasn't even the worst one.
Here's the worst one.
Four days prior to trial, we had a hearing about experts.
My experts.
I had two sound experts set up to testify.
They came into that courtroom.
They sat in that witness chair and took up the better part of two days of testimony.
We took longer offering up our experts than we took in presenting my defense.
Because my defense went down in less than a day.
And I'll tell you later why it didn't take any longer than that.
It didn't take any longer than that because it couldn't take any longer than that.
And I've got two people to thank for that.
The judge and my lawyer.
So, there we have two experts.
I'm sitting on the witness stand testifying about these two audiotapes.
The two audiotapes that are just too good to be true.
And I say they're too good to be true.
And maybe another time or even later in this recording we can talk about why they're too good to be true.
But I maintain that all you have to do is listen to them and consider how inflammatory and outrageous they are and what are the chances that something like that could have been recorded.
Think back over recordings you've heard of in other cases, the actual recordings, and think how hit and miss they have been.
The recordings in my case are perfect.
They are complete.
They are inflammatory.
They have motive.
They have opportunity.
They have method.
They are absolutely complete unto themselves, each of the two of them.
And because there are two, they thereby supposedly corroborate one another.
And there is corroboration on these recordings as well.
It is amazing how bad they are.
When I first heard them, I became physically ill.
That's how good they are.
I became convinced by my public defender that it actually was me on the tapes.
I became convinced that I'd had these conversations and I have no memory of it because I must have a split personality.
Eddie and Hyde, I called it.
Because it was funny, and those who have followed my readings know that I like to bend even gallows humor into something personal.
Eddie and Hyde, the classic split personality, I honestly believed it.
Of course, I was still under the influence extensively of post-surgical drugs.
I'd had four major surgeries in the handful of months that preceded the day of my arrest, something we can go into at another time.
There are many aspects to this case.
For an extended period of time, I about 90% believed that I had really spoken on those tapes.
My public defender went to great lengths to convince me of that.
I became predictably very depressed.
Because, again, those who have followed my writings know how devoted I am to my family, know how much I love my wife Cindy.
And I do.
26 years.
And I sure wish I could get out of here and start our next 26 years together.
I love that woman more than I can say.
There is no way, absolutely no way, I would want to harm her.
I would lay down my life for her in a heartbeat.
And those who know me know that that's true.
And that's one of the reasons that I haven't lost any friends throughout this exercise.
Now, it was only a couple, three months prior to trial when my new lawyer, the private lawyer that I was paying out of my pocket, because Finally, the government returned the silver.
My life savings that they had seized, they returned it.
I was able to hire a lawyer.
That lawyer was able to get a sound expert who analyzed the recording and got two experts, in fact, and they both came up with the same result.
There was an extraordinary, their word, not mine, an extraordinary number of anomalies, of problems with those two recordings.
One of those experts who...
who had 30 or 40 years of experience in dealing with recordings, beginning with police department back east and now has his own company doing just that, analyzing recordings, said that there were 351 of what he called electronic transient signatures.
And he could distinguish between electronic and auditory signatures, i.e.
anomalies or little noises on the tape that you can't even hear most of them.
You can't even begin to hear them if you just listen to them, but you can see them if you put the waveform up on a scope.
He said the difference between electronic and auditory is that the fall-off is almost instantaneous with electronic, whereas auditory, like dropping a pen on the floor or something, sets up echoes, some of which you absolutely cannot hear, but which get picked up on a recording, and that's how you can tell the difference.
351 electronic signature transients.
He picked up on just one of the tapes.
And the other fellow, using a different program, didn't come up with that many.
I think he came up with 50-plus.
But both of them agreed that it was more than they had ever seen on a similar tape.
Both of them agreed that it was an extraordinary number.
The one who had the 30 years' experience with the police department and his own company now went even further.
He said, in his opinion, there's no question about what the tapes were false, that they'd been edited and false.
Furthermore, by analyzing the waveforms closely, he had determined that in many places on the tape, the voice purported to be mine isn't even my voice.
Somebody else had said the words, and they had used readily available sound-morphing technology to make it sound like my voice.
And I understand that there's a recording up on the website, freeedgarsteel.com.
I think there are dashes in between the words that people can listen to where somebody has allegedly used sound morphing technology in five minutes flat and produced something that is astoundingly like what sounds like me.
The second expert, with all the police department experience, said it wasn't even my voice in a lot of places on these tapes.
The first expert had more credentials.
He's a true doctorate.
He works for the Los Alamos labs for the U.S. government.
Has done for years.
He's one of the guys who said it was an extraordinary number of electronic signature transients on the tape.
He was more careful, and he wouldn't go so far as to say that it wasn't my voice, because there's no way that he felt he could say that with a certainty.
And he didn't go so far as to say with a certainty that the tapes had been fabricated.
He did say it was an extraordinary number of transients and that the transients were exactly what you would get if there had been splices, clips, electronic alterations to the reflexes.
He noted that you can also get those electronic transients by doing things like turning a microphone on and off.
And there's no allegation that that occurred during these recordings by an equipment malfunction.
There's no allegation of that about the recorder that was used to make these recordings.
And one or two other things that are Even more unlikely than those two.
That doesn't leave much.
What it leaves is somebody went in there and made these tapes.
And when I heard that, such a relief washed over me.
Because then I knew that Eddie and Hyde didn't exist.
Then I knew that the tapes had been fabricated.
Then I knew that I hadn't in a drug stupor somehow or other hallucinated myself into a place where I believed that my wife deserved to die.
That is another significant step.
In this case, they told me something was seriously wrong.
So, you know like they say, you're not paranoid if they actually are out to get you.
Or, you may be paranoid, but that doesn't mean they're not out to get you.
In my case, they're out to get me.
Thank you.
There's something happening here, but what it is ain't exactly clear.
There's a man with a gun over there, telling me I've got to beware.
I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down There's bad lines being drawn Nobody's right if everybody's wrong.
Young people speaking their minds are getting so much resistance from behind.
We stop, hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down What a field day for the heat A thousand people in the street Singing songs and carrying signs Mostly say hooray for our side
It's time we stop, hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going down Paranoia strikes deep It starts when you're always afraid.
Step out of line, the man come and take you away.
We better stop.
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going.
We better stop.
Hey, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going.
We better stop.
Now, what's that sound?
Everybody look what's going.
We better stop.
Children, what's that sound?
I've suffered all along.
I've always been paranoid, but I have proof of it now.
I have one of the world's foremost leading experts, the guy who actually wrote the book, a doctor employed by the U.S. government in the Los Alamos facility, who almost says so.
And I have another guy who says that and more.
Now, we had a hearing four or five days prior to the trial about these experts, and you do that when there's a challenge by one side as to qualifications to testify.
And the other side, the government, of course, predictably made just such a challenge.
To both of these experts that, in my experience, should easily qualify to testify at trial.
And the judge ruled that neither would be allowed to testify.
Astounding result.
At the last minute, almost literally hours before trial, is scheduled to begin.
No continuance is granted.
There's no way to delay this now.
And he says, my experts can't testify.
What he said was that the guy with the police departments was unreliable.
Said he didn't have a complete enough background.
The problem is that that guy was willing to express an opinion that was right on point.
Yes, they're fabricated.
It's not even his voice.
Said he's unreliable.
Wouldn't even let him testify.
I maintain that that was incorrect.
What should have been done is he should have been allowed to testify, and the jury cautioned to give his testimony the weight that they felt it deserved.
That's how you handle something like that.
He was eminently qualified to testify.
Now comes Dr. Papson, the world's foremost leading authority on forensic audiology, the guy who literally wrote the book, a doctorate, and an employee of the U.S. government, who says everything up to the most inflammatory things that my first expert said.
The judge said Dr. Papson couldn't testify either.
You know why?
because his testimony was irrelevant, that nobody had put into issue an allegation that the tapes were false.
Excuse me, I had been talking about nothing but that up to that point.
That hearing put it into issue.
Listen, when I stood up on my arraignment a week after being arrested, and I said, not guilty, that controverted all the allegations of the government, including the tapes.
When I said, not guilty, that alone called their authenticity into question.
But the judge said, no, they're irrelevant or legitimate.
And that was it for my experts.
I wouldn't be allowed to put on any kind of evidence that the tapes were false, even though I had done more than I needed to do to do that.
Dr. Papson took his wife, went on vacation, a long-standing prepaid vacation of a lifetime to Tahiti.
He had been willing to stay behind if he was going to testify.
And I'll be honest with you, I would have somehow found a way to compensate him so that he could then take her a couple of weeks later.
There's no question about that.
But the judge said he couldn't testify.
So Dr. Pabson went on vacation, confident that he wasn't prejudicing my case.
The first or second or third day of trial, my attorney again complained to the judge about not being able to put on this evidence, and the judge reversed himself.
Amazingly enough.
And said, okay, Dr. Papson can testify.
And we all went hurrah.
And then we remembered that Dr. Papson is off in Tahiti with his wife.
So my people scurried and they got hold of Dr. Papson and they got him to agree to testify over the internet by video phone.
You know, something like Skype.
My attorney approached the judge and the judge said, okay, that's acceptable.
The morning of the day that Dr. Papson was to testify, the judge Obviously, we couldn't get the guy here the following morning at 8.30.
Well, there's another thing to tell you about.
It's almost impossible, almost impossible, to get him here at 8.30 in the morning.
Turns out it was impossible, but I'll tell you about that in a moment.
There's something you need to understand about trial witnesses.
Especially expert witnesses in order to really get what I'm about to tell you about what the judge did next.
You have to understand that if a witness has not been served a subpoena, you don't have an issue on appeal about that witness not testifying and you don't have a basis for asking the judge for a continuance or a delay in the trial.
If you've got the guy under subpoena and he doesn't show up when he's supposed to, then you can go to the judge and say, Judge, I did everything I was supposed to do.
He's just not obeying the subpoena.
Issue a warrant for his arrest and threaten him with contempt of court.
You know, it's your job to get him here.
Now I did what I was supposed to do.
As a practical matter, there are a lot of witnesses who, if you give them a subpoena, will become hostile to you.
And Dr. Papson.
He told us that if we put a subpoena on him so that he couldn't leave the country in the face of the judge having ruled that he couldn't testify, that if he ended up testifying, he would not be a good witness for me.
You get that all the time from witnesses.
Don't put a subpoena on me, you won't like what I'll say.
And so as a trial lawyer, you need to make a choice.
Do you put a subpoena on a guy and run the risk of alienating him, or do you play ball with him?
I knew this was going on.
In writing, I gave to my attorney the following.
I said, lay a subpoena on Dr. Papson so that we preserve the issue for appeal.
Gave it to him in writing.
He understood that, nodded and said okay.
He didn't do it.
He decided on his own and without telling me not to put a subpoena on Pabson because I knew how important it was.
He was my whole case.
And as it turns out, he was my whole case.
Remember I said that things can be too good to be true, like those tapes that they alleged that I discussed the plot twice with this North Idaho hitman?
They're too good to be true because of their content.
Well, unfortunately, my lawyer's too good to be true, too.
And he's a very good lawyer.
And that's the problem.
He's a gunslinger.
It's like, when I went to school, I was good enough that I could get very good grades without ever taking a book home.
Now, that's high school.
College wasn't much more difficult.
And I even earned a master's degree from Cal Berkeley without really learning how to study.
It wasn't until I went to law school and I was thrown up against...
3.9 grade average students with 99th percentile LSATs that I finally had competition that forced me to study.
And I learned how to study in law school for the first time.
Well, public speaking and trial lawyer is kind of like that.
If you have a natural talent for it, you never get pushed enough to really learn the craft.
And unfortunately, in my opinion, Bob McAllister is cursed to have that degree of talent.
He's always gotten by by just winging it.
That's why I call him a gunslinger.
He just wanders into town and fires a couple of shots and his job is done.
It don't work like that at this level of litigation.
It requires greater preparation.
And he didn't engage in that because he didn't know that it was really necessary.
He thought he was going to ride into town, fire a couple of shots, prevail, and ride out a hero.
He learned differently.
So did I. Against my better judgment, I relied upon what I call speed lawyering and let him have his head.
Against my better judgment, I didn't testify.
Big mistake.
I should have taken the stand and spent a day talking to the jury.
But I have some issues with McAllister's representation, which go to the heart of why I lost.
But the main issue is I didn't have Dr. George Papson on the stand to testify, essentially, that those tapes were fabricated.
Is there a chance with the appeal that you can get him back?
Yes, there is.
There is a chance on appeal I can get him back.
If I can get a new trial, then we can call him.
And I guarantee you he'll be on the stand then.
And in fact, if we can get a new trial with a new judge, we'll get that other expert on the stand, the one who said, in his opinion, my voice had been morphed from somebody else's.
That's how important George Papson was.
And without his testimony that essentially and substantially challenged the Bolivia to tapes, all we had was my wife and my kids and my friends saying, geez, that doesn't sound like him.
We don't think he'd ever say anything like that.
And they took the stand and they said that, but it wasn't enough to persuade the jury.
They just thought that my wife and my friends were protecting me.
Of course, that raises an interesting question, doesn't it?
My wife, supposedly, is the victim.
Supposedly, I wanted to blow my wife up with a car bomb.
And yet...
She's standing by me right from day one.
She is standing by me again today.
I mean, I talk to her two or three times a day on the telephone.
I love her to pieces.
She loves me.
She has never wavered in believing that those tapes were false.
I told her the day I was arrested they were false.
I knew they were, even though I'd never heard them, because I knew I hadn't participated in those conversations.
I knew I hadn't said the things that were being attributed to me.
And she knows me well enough after 25 years of marriage.
I'm a lucky man to have a woman like that, by the way.
Many guys do.
I think you are.
I spent many hours with your wife on the phone going over this case.
And she's a sweetheart.
She's great.
She's so authentic.
That's why I'm surprised at the jury.
We all thought that she's so authentic and believable that she'd probably carry the day all by herself with the jury.
That was a large part of why I never testified.
See, I was real close to the edge in getting angry with everybody at the time, and if they'd put me on the stand, I would have ended up fighting with the prosecutor, almost certainly.
And that might have worked against me more than it would have helped me.
In retrospect, it was a mistake.
I had to take the chance.
But at the time, I bowed to the pressure from lawyers and from my wife, who didn't want me to testify, to not be my own worst enemy, as they put it.
I yield to that against my better judgment.
What are the chances of you winning an appeal?
Knowing what you know and what you've been talking about, how they obviously clearly manipulated this case.
I don't know.
I don't know is the honest answer.
It depends upon how deep the rot goes.
We're making a motion for a new trial with the trial judge.
I know that's going to be denied.
There's no way that this guy is going to start ruling favorably for me now.
Not after what he did before trial.
Not the way that he ruled on objections during the trial.
Because right down the line, he was a prosecuting judge.
In fact, with a judge like that, you don't even need a prosecutor.
I want to ask you something about this judge.
You were talking about how the judge first decided that the New York expert witness could not testify because he wasn't qualified enough.
Then he said the doctor in Tahiti couldn't testify because there was no question as to the validity of the tapes.
And then he ruled that, yes, he could testify, and he could testify by video conferencing.
And then the government approached him, and then he said, no, I changed my mind.
He has to be here at 8.30 in the morning the next day.
Do these judges have that much leeway and discretion that they don't have to consult law?
They don't have to consult precedence in these matters?
It seems like he's just ruling like...
Gee, should I do this or do that?
I don't know.
How do I feel today?
Well, you know what?
I'll make the guy come in from Tahiti.
Is it something like that, or am I missing something here?
No, you're not missing a thing.
It feels like that to me, too.
I'm not alleging that the judge is corrupt.
I'm not alleging that the judge was gotten to.
Trials like this happen this way with judges without any kind of bias-making pressure from anybody.
Maybe that's what happened in my case, but it's awfully coincidental that in a heavily charged political case like this, that I would draw a judge like this.
And I'm glad you mentioned that about Papson again, because I promised to follow up and explain something.
Papson could have been brought back here on a commercial flight in the time we had from the time the judge changed his ruling until the time that Papson had to testify two days later in the morning.
However, the judge said doing it by video would be good enough.
So we relied upon that.
We relied upon that.
Remember, we didn't have Papson under...
The following day, however, with less than 24 hours to go, the judge then reversed himself again and said Papson couldn't testify by video.
He had to be here in person at 8.30.
It now was impossible to get him here commercially.
We actually checked into chartering a private jet.
We had enough time to get him here 8.30 the following morning from Tahiti.
We found a private jet that had enough time to get there to Tahiti, pick him up, and have him in Boise by 8.30 the next morning.
We actually had that lined up.
I'm not even going to tell you how much it would cost because it's a mind-blowing number.
But we're talking about the rest of my life here.
My wife, friends got together and said, okay, let's do this.
And then found out that suddenly the charter company, for some reason that was never disclosed to us, suddenly decided that they didn't want to fly the guy back for us.
They didn't want to make money.
You've got to wonder what went on.
Let me tell you how much it cost.
$180,000 to charter the jet and bring the guy here.
We were willing to pay that.
The charter company changed its mind and said, sorry, we don't want to do it.
The jet's no longer available to you.
It now became impossible.
To get him here at 8.30 the following morning, and that is why he did not testify at my trial.
That is why we were unable to put on any evidence of the fact that these tapes had been falsified, even though we'd spent more than one full date a week or two earlier with these experts testifying extensively and showing waveforms as to why the tapes were falsified.
We weren't able to put on any evidence of that for the jury, and that is the main reason why I lost this case.
Did the judge know that Afton was going on vacation?
Yes.
He had been told.
You know, I'm not going to make the obvious connection.
I'm not going to make an allegation like that out of anything more than just conjecture.
I've told you the facts.
I've told you the truth.
You draw your own conclusions.
But there's a lot of things about this case that began with my arrest, which are really strange, things I couldn't make up.
If you had told me about this case involving somebody else, I would have told you before I got hit with it that it couldn't happen.
Edgar J. Spiel from the Bonner County Sheriff's Jail.
I want to thank you so much for the time you spent explaining those to our listeners.
And I want you to know we're all thinking about you and we're all with you.
I know that I am.
And I know enough about this case to know that you are innocent.
You know, one of the things I've noticed about this is that I don't know of a single friend that I've lost because of this.
In fact, I've gotten a lot of good new ones.
That does a lot.
And I appreciate having friends like you.
Thank you very much.
Thank you, sir.
Okay, guys, it's now Monday morning, and that damned URI I referred to yesterday is still coming on strong.
I feel like about 10 pounds of manure in a 5-pound bag, and I'm afraid your weekly Herald ration is going to come up a bit short because my lungs feel like they've been gone over good with a cheese grater.
Nonetheless, I'll wind things up with a few words on my new favorite subject, party professionalization.
This week I will talk about something I've been accused of obsessing over for years.
I've been accused of having an edifice complex, which I suppose in a way I do.
Now, I'm going to say some things here that are going to get people upset.
Things that we all know in our hearts are true, but which you really, really don't want to be reminded of.
It will make some of you mad.
Guys, I'm sorry.
Truly, I am.
I don't enjoy making you upset and depressed and angry, but somebody has to say these things because we cannot, dare not, build a Northwest independence movement on anything but the coldest and most unpleasant and unpalatable of truth.
We've been trying to build something out of our racist equivalent of flowers and puppies so that we can all feel good about ourselves for years, and it hasn't worked.
In God's name, we must stop doing things that don't work.
Now, choosing my words very carefully here because I need to be clear.
The white nationalist and white separatist movements right now, including the Northwest Front, the alt-right, the alt-light, the Richard Spencer cult, all the variegated Jewish and kosher conservative and libtard YouTube media entrepreneurs and self-publishers like Stephen Molyneux and Alex Jones and Louder with Crowder, you know, quote-unquote, us.
Anyway, our motley wee resistance movement right now consists basically of thousands of people who are essentially hiding while they post stuff to the internet to try and annoy the enemy and go, look at me, look at me, so long as what everybody's looking at is an anime cartoon avatar and a false screen name, sometimes a female false screen name, to conceal the fact that the poster is really male, and I gotta admit, that still throws me.
They're hiding because there is no professionalism at all in our movement, not really, and they're afraid of being doxed and losing everything they have when the Soros rental mob comes calling, either by phone or television camera or in person, and yes, this fear is somewhat justified.
Being doxed is no fun.
I've been doxed several times down through the years, the last time several years ago when my bankruptcy papers were splattered all over the internet by a goat dancer.
For me, it's survivable, but...
True.
I don't have a good job, and I don't have a family to take care of, and so I understand why, with so many of us, our first concern in our racial involvement is to hide.
We do have occasional meetings and get-togethers in our little scene, almost always in rented motel banquet rooms, since our security is usually crap.
Or because we have to announce the meeting venue ahead of time in order to get people to come.
A huge percentage of these rented motel banquet room meetings never come off because Soros employees screech and holler and protest and intimidate the management.
Or else they just call in a bomb threat, which apparently they have a dispensation from the power structure to do.
I have never in my life heard of any.
Of these sliming little college lefties being convicted or even arrested for calling in bomb threats to right-wing events, there just seems to be a general understanding with the police that this is something they get to do.
Call it sorrows privilege.
Anyone who has ever attempted to attend a David Irving lecture in this country will recollect that the meeting venue probably had to be changed several times, as the local Saronics chased the eccentric old Brit all over town, threatening all his motels.
Now, it used to be back in the day, in North Carolina and the South in general, that Klan and other racial groups had a lot of men who owned property, usually rural property, on which the groups could get together and rally in safety, because they controlled who got in and ran their own security.
And the minute Antifa protesters understand that they're going to be facing us directly without an intervening screen of police to protect them, they suddenly decide to stay home that weekend and play with their own electronic devices.
They remember Greensboro, even if we don't.
We don't have people like that anymore, because A, over the years, our people and white people in general have become so dirt poor, with the exception of a small few like Richard Spencer, who comes from the 1%, and Alex Jones, who has successfully built up his media empire on selling vitamins and survival foods and all that stuff he peddles.
The second reason is that the few people we do have who own property are too timid and frightened to let right-wing or racial groups use it for meetings, for fear that the bad, bad, slimy things in black will show up and scream and holler and wave sticks in the air and act all scary.
Most of these people are elderly, so I can kinda get that.
The point I'm making is that for reasons which should be obvious if you think about it, in this country, no one will ever win a real-life revolution by devoting about 50% of their time to hiding.
This is not the psychological makeup of the American white boy.
The American white boy wants a ride in a nice, shiny bandwagon with a lot of people and faces around him so that he can feel part of a big group and a big movement while still hiding his own face in the crowd.
He may participate in all the internet fun and games, precisely because they are fun and games, but to the white boy, that's all they are.
Americans want to see something tangible and material.
They want to see some sign that there is money present in an undertaking.
Now, there doesn't have to be any real money involved.
It just has to look like it.
Americans don't mind being fooled.
Remember Jim Baker and the Reverend Ike?
Money or the pretense of money is what American white boys have been socially engineered to respond to.
Now let me tell you who will finally be the winner in what I suppose you might call the alt-right stakes, this little contest we seem to be running here.
The winner will be the group or the personality who can accomplish the following things.
He or they must establish an open public presence in a...
Populated area, not a rural area so far out in the sticks you have to be Daniel Boone to find the place.
A rural compound can have many advantages, true, but if you're serious in your politics, you have to go where the people are.
I really don't want for the Northwest Front to recreate the National Alliance, although if anybody ever does step forward and offer us some rural land, I would have to look at it because we need to move forward so bad.
But that's not what I want.
I don't want Hayden Lake.
I want Franklin Road, if any of you can catch that reference.
I will avoid the use of the possibly antiquated and imprecise term headquarters, but there must be a public presence in the form of some kind of facility wherein mail is delivered to the racial nationalist group at a physical street address, not a post office box or a suite in some UPS store or private mailbox center.
Interested whites must be able to go to this address and find people, actual human beings from that organization, ready and willing to talk to them, explain things, and answer questions.
These people, ideally, should be young, physically fit, and clearly competent white men, not flabby, pudgy, or geek-skinny mom's basement dwellers with eyes bleary from staring into the screen and fingers twitching for the mouse.
And I think we all know that there is enough truth in that stereotype about us to hurt.
We gain nothing by denying it and pretending that's not the case.
It's something we need to work on.
Now, preferably these people shouldn't be geriatrics either.
Any older men or women need to be neatly dressed and look distinguished, not geezers like me.
I make jokes about Grandpa Simpson, but we don't really want him as a public spokesperson in real life.
These young men must be clearly able to handle themselves, and so they will have to.
They may or may not wear Aryan Nation-style costumes.
I would prefer they didn't.
I don't think that's a good idea.
But anyway, they'll have to maintain the facility securely and vigorously against the violence and the hatred of Antifa and other left wounds.
I'm not talking about guys that wave guns around in the air and act all Rambo or whatever.
I'm talking about genuinely competent and dedicated young men who are capable of defending the party's property and personnel against the enemy.
There must be a legal team to fight against attempts to use the law to shut down the facility and deny the white community a voice and visible rallying point, and those attempts will certainly be made.
What white man or woman who drives to this address and meets with these polite, knowledgeable, and clearly squared-away normal people must take away from the experience is this.
Here they are, at long last.
Here are the white people who are not afraid like I am.
All my life, these niggers and white leftist scum and policemen and the government have made me afraid, forced me to comply with their will through fear of violence, taken my money in the form of taxation.
The feminist bitches at work have ruined any chance I ever had of breaking through the diversity ceiling.
Every time I turn on the TV, I see screeching bitches and monkey faces and queers accusing me of being the source of all the evil in the world because of my white skin and my dick.
And always the looming threat of their violence, both institutional and antifa-type stuff.
Their punishment if I don't say and think exactly what they want me to.
They will punish me if I just have something they want and they'll take it from me.
These people have destroyed any chance I ever had of happiness, and I have done nothing, because I am so afraid.
I don't know how to be brave and stand up to them, but here at this address, here are the white people who remember.
Here at long last are the white people who are not afraid.
Here at long last are the white people who do not hang their heads and shuffle their feet and hide when the filthy mob begins to scream out their threats.
I will help and support these people with everything I have, because when I'm in their presence, I too begin to feel brave, to understand that change is possible.
The first organization that can produce this scenario, the first of us to come out of hiding in 20 years, will end up on the top of our wee little movement heap.
And yes, that's some place we need to be.
We need to make sure that whoever does win this apparently petty big fish in a small pond contest are the right people.
The real deal.
We need to make sure it's the Northwest Front.
But our time is up for this week's edition of Radio Free Northwest.
This program is brought to you by the Northwest Front, Post Office Box 2188, Bremerton, WA 98310.
Or you can go to the party's website at www.northwestfront.org.
This is Harold Covington, and I'll see you next week.
Until then, Sarsha Underban.
Freedom.
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