ONLY IN THE MOVIES: GROCER TO GOD, “DID IT REALLY RAIN 40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS? GEORGE BURNS, AS GOD, “WELL, YOU KNOW HOW THE PRESS IS ABOUT THESE THINGS…”
FROM SOMEWHERE IN CYBERSPACE – “To my knowledge there is no war between kinfolk and anyone,” wrote a person who declined to state if he is an officer with that club.
That remark echoes what we have been told by both the present and past president of Bandidos, U.S.A.
An anonymous source close to the confusion between the Bandidos and Kinfolk got in touch. His aim: to try to clear the air about what he claims is media distortion about confrontations that have led to recent deaths in both communities.
In an opening remark, there is a heavy emphasis on an ill-informed media’s characterizations and “some misinformation that has been put out.”
And yet, for this man, though Kinfolk MC had long before been established, the troubles began on February 18 of this year at South Padre Island during a Bike Fest held at the city’s convention and visitors center. It’s an annual event that is termed as a “family” oriented celebration of the biker lifestyle by its coordinator, G. J. Reyna, who is a trustee in the operation of a 503(C)3 non-profit which handles the annual affair.
You can tell by past press and broadcast coverage that the bike fest is something the merchants and city dads, even the police, fully support. The cops even offer a motorcycle escort across the causeway, in and out of town.
Police and press really soft-pedaled the violent confrontation that took place on the grounds and resulted in hospital treatment for one person who ran into a knife blade and two others who were treated and released for contusions and abrasions after they used their heads and faces to stress test someone’s fists.
A fourth party – well – split before the cops got there, or either declined medical treatment, or both. Coverage is fairly murky.
The fight took place in the grassy area, according to one report.
Reporters across the board mentioned no names, pending a police investigation. Ho hum.
The South Padre Island Convention and Visitors Center…
The bottom line is, no one involved, city dads, merchants, cops, bikers – and all – can really afford this. The event is a good thing; most pictures show no one flying patches, no one looking like they’re out for a rumble.
Maybe that’s why the few people who wrote in and commented on social media articles after they got back home to Houston and points farther afield west and north expressed their surprise at the negative press and broadcast coverage – when they didn’t really think it was that big a deal.
But it made an impression in our correspondent’s mind:
February 18, 2017. The day it all changed. All we wanted was to be left alone. And you couldn’t do that. You had to make a different choice. A choice you now know was the wrong one. A choice you now wish you hadn’t made. You tried to intimidate us, it only brought us closer together. You tried to divide us, it made us stronger. You even tried to kill some of our members. But it didn’t work did it. You had 30 to 40 punks jump on 4 of our men. In front of ole ladies. It only shows your fear. You’ve done drive by shootings on houses with women and children. Only to show you for the cowards you are. And guess what. We are still here. Flying our colors with pride. Heads held high. And where are you. Hidden inside your little forts behind pad locked gates. Barricaded inside, behind shielded windows. To afraid to even look outside. And yet we are still here. Riding our bikes, living our lives like always. Watching as you call your little puppets to do your bidding, watching as they fail you in your demands of them. Laughing as you loose members. And all you had to do was leave us alone. But you couldn’t. We warned you. But you wouldn’t listen. You said you where the masters, that only you held power. You know us, our members, and our skill sets. We are not your dogs, to kick and command at your will. We are the wolves that prowl the night, the guardians of the old ways . We will not bow, we will not run, and we will not hide. We are Kinfolk Mc 1%ers, and this is my message to you, all of the red and gold nation, do not cross my path and try me. You have awoken the side of me you should have left sleeping. But now it’s to late. Come hunt me, I beg to all the gods you do. Come test your skills against mine. Let’s see if you can finish what you tried to start. I’m betting you won’t. Your running out of puppets fast. It will be down to only your own men to send soon. Can you feel it. That’s the world getting smaller around you. No support, no back up. Just you. Left for the wolves, that you provoked.
You couldn’t do it could you? Leave us alone, that’s all we asked. Don’t push us, don’t prod us, and we will simply ride our bikes and never utter your name. But you couldn’t, You had to show the world that you had the control of everyone. That no one would be aloud to defy your orders. You told us not to continue our brotherhood, not to congregate together. And we told you, to your faces that our brotherhood and loyalty to each other was a bond that couldn’t be broken at the will of others. We told you we would patch up to create our own. And you said no we won’t. And you watched us grow, and strengthen our bonds even tighter. You trembled at the thought of being usurped and denied. You began to see that we were not mere sheep in your flock of minions. You knew us, personally, some of us were even once a part of you. A part that you used and toyed with. We were tools that gave you your strength and courage. Until the day we awoke and seen you for what you really are. A tyrant, a bully, and a road pirate. We were ashamed of the things we did at your command. And vowed never again to be those men of such evil acts. We wanted the purity and passion for our lives back. To once again live the real outlaw mc life we had admired and longed for as kids. Not the power hungry tyrannical criminal trash we had let you turn us into. So we did what no other had before. We walked away, we turned our backs collectively on your orders. We defied your authority, like no other. You laughed at first, because no one had ever looked at you with contempt before. You were angered by our contempt, when we started our own nation. But once you seen our resolve, you became afraid. Afraid of losing your throne of power. Afraid of looking weak. You begged us to return. Threatened us to obey you. You even tried to kill us. And yet , to your surprise , Our resolve held, our brotherhood remained true and stronger than ever. We reminded you, leave us be. To push us, to try to control us would only become your nightmare. It would unleash the wolves that once guarded your thrones. The wolves that once gave you your strength and might. But now the wolves have a new master, they do their own bidding, and you shall soon see the wrath of our pack. You will hunt us, and we will stalk you and a few may fall. But the fangs and claws that once helped create your illusion of power and control, will now tear you apart. Piece by piece, you will be devoured in the name of our fallen brothers till nothing is left but a faint red and gold memory. And we will still be here. Once again at rest until the next tyrant awakens us. Our brotherhood and love will carry on for eternity as will our name. Some will call us friend, some even brother but all will know us for who we truly are We are Kinfolk Mc 1%er. The guardians of the old ways.
SO MOTE IT BE.
A mural at the convention center, where they say a north wind drives the tide out on the flats and produces really good conditions for wind surfing. – Legendary