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Journal  of the Silent Majority is a memoir and forbidden history of post WWII America told in the style of a journal.  The author likens the Baby Boomers to a group under siege. Our history shows that the ordinary American is too busy making a living and raising the next generation to check the evil intent of those from above and below.

The book takes exception to the most sacred of leftist assumptions; that the 1960s was a great and enlightened period; that the Vietnam War was unjust and a mistake or that the Media is a beacon of hope and an impartial agent affecting social change and checking the abuses of executive power.  The author asserts shocking and surprising interpretations to worn out politically correct history by claiming that the Civil Rights Movement was a pretext for the Media to supplant the old WASP establishment.  The legacy of this struggle was catastrophic to U.S. institutions.  The Media by conspiracy replaced the federal government as the national governing body.  Moreover, the origins and methodology of the Media and the Left was predictable and can be traced back to the militant  atheism of revolutionary Europe.

There is an unstoppable force within the majority determined and anxious to be heard above the din. Eighty million Baby Boomers recall the real events and know there will be a reckoning. Conscientious historians will be relieved.  Our leftist revisionists will be aghast.


     The platform for publication is proceeding. 

    You may also contact me at raycherry@journalsilentmajority.com

On The Butcher of Kansas City, Chapter 6

In the Westport area of Kansas City where I grew up, there was a little art shop called the Bizarre Bizaar.  I occasionally shopped in the area because it was undergoing revitalization to give it a competitive edge against the Country Club Plaza.  I remember Bob Berdella sitting at a table surrounded by women eyeing his off-the-wall art, but I never thought too much about it because his art was terrible.  It was bizarre - like Bob.  Besides collecting art, Bob had the habit of collecting young men.  Since he was a homosexual like Charles Manson, there shouldn't have been anything extraordinary about that except that he killed and pickled them.

Preview . . .                             

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                                                                                            Chapter 1

                                                                           The Beginning of the Boomers:
                                                                 Who We Were and Where We Came From

                                                                  "Hi Ya Buffalo Bob!" - Howdy Doody

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My first comprehension of class distinctions came when I first competed as a young man for the attentions of a beautiful red haired girl. She is now but a cherished memory sitting there under the church's Gothic windows with the sun shinning on her face of many summers ago.  Her oldest brother went to West Point and her mother worked at the art gallery.  I should have  picked it up when I saw the piano.  To make a long story short, she aimed to marry into the clergy because she was conditioned to the middle class life style and adored the cloistered security of the church.  All her family knew about me was that I came from the Ozarks, was the son of a beautician and a factory worker, lived on Main Street, and that my parents were divorced.  I never stood a chance.  I was a social cripple from the beginning.  However, social cripples made good observers.
 
Our ancestors came from Tennessee.  Before that they came from Deep Creek, Virginia from the same family mentioned in The Great Dismal Swamp by Hubert J. Davis; before that, England 1635.  My father, Stephen "Doc" Cherry, was born on the farm February 18, 1915 and grew up as a rough and strong lanky kid of 6' 3" height with narrow shoulders and thin legs. He loved animals and the natural freedom of a boy growing up in the simple, uncluttered pre-Depression Ozarks before the automobile, electricity, or any convenience.  In the Ozarks 17th Century King James English still survives and phrases which have been passed on are protected by isolation from the ruination of progress.  Dad called me "Tudor Bill" and sang an old Ozark nursery rhyme as he bounced me on his knee.  We would tease Dad for calling the chimney, the "chimley" and ears, "years," and "hit" for it.  A characteristic saying of Grandpa Isaac was "Well gentlemen, I'm afeared!"  Indeed, Grandpa Newberry would tell us of the demon Raw Head and Bloody Bones that resided in the attic which meant that we kids shouldn't venture there.  Aunt Bessie always said "deef" for deaf.



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                                                                                                 Chapter 2

                                                             The Pampered Children of the Bourgeoisie Raise Hell:
                                                                     Beatniks, University radicals, and the Hippies

                                                "Every new generation constitutes a wave of savages who must be civilized by 
                                                            their families, schools, and churches." - Robert H. Bork

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In the late 1950s and early 1960s kids used to watch The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis.  Dobie was the average high school kid who always chased illusive girls and had a close friend named Maynard G. Krebs (the Gilligan from Gilligan's Island) who was a little quirky.  We would get a kick out of Mr. G's father asking Maynard if he was "some kind of a nut."  The show introduced millions of Silent Majority Americans to the dark side of America that was just beginning to innocently reveal itself.  TV managed to clean it up, but the basics pointed to the introduction of the worst elements into mainstream society with their weird music, bohemian life style, and drug use.  The Media began to take them out of the shadows and legitimize them.
 
One of the icons of the beat generation was Allen Ginsberg, a 50s Beatnik, whose influence upon our baby boom generation and its radicals cannot be understated.  He was the Typhoid Mary of immoral influence.  Ginsberg was everywhere spreading the virus: at Be-Ins, in India, at the Royal Albert Hall in England spreading the message of HOWL, at the Chicago Eight Trial making a fool of Judge Hoffman, recruiting drug addicts for Timothy Leary, exposing his private parts to the Beatles, or marching in New York.  Ginsberg was the grandson of a Russian Pale immigrant and his mother was a Marxist leader of the Bohemian Literary Movement.



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                                                                                                 Chapter 3

                                                                    The Third Great U.S. Race War 1954-1968:
                                                                              The Victory of the Worst Elements

                ". . . great Journalism blows and blusters, through all its throats, forth from Paris towards all corners of France, like an
                                                   Aeolus' Cave; keeping alive all manner of fires." - Thomas Carlyle

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I do not buy into the theory that we are too stupid to have known the era in which we grew up or the forces that produced it.  I do not buy into the politically correct view that there was just a Civil Rights Movement; it was more than that.  The 1960s was a revolutionary time that produced for 11.8% of the population three pieces of legislation that by gradualism Negroes would have gotten anyway: (1) the Civil Rights Act of 1964, (2) the Voting Rights Act of 1965, and (3) the Fair Housing Act of 1968.  The rest of us (88.2%) witnessed a heavy price paid in the form of riots, civil unrest, and violence that attacked or destroyed nearly all institutions that had developed in America.  Hundreds of years of manners and morals were destroyed or debased in John Kennedy's and his radical followers' rush for a utopian society.  I remember the beginning of it all: the picketing, rallies, demonstrations, Freedom Rides, Freedom Walks, law suits, boycotts, bussing, marches, the sit-downs, sit-outs, kneel-ins, sit-downs, stand-ins, live-ins, and the wade-ins.  I remember the buzz words of the day: integration, civil disobedience, persuasive militancy, equal opportunity, police brutality, Black Power, Black Pride, and Black Supremacy.  I remember how the demands went from jobs, voting and housing rights to the shrill mantras of socialist utopiansim and Marxism: job quotas, federal jobs guaranteed, Affirmative Action, a guaranteed annual wage, Afro programs in universities, D.C. self rule, a call for a Negro state, reparations, exemption of blacks from military service, the freeing of all blacks from America's jails and prisons, free food, free clothing, and free education.  The only thing they left out was a white woman and a sports car.  Of course, those demands would have been too ridiculous.