[Full]-Could "REPARATIONS TALKS" be stalled now, w/re-write of US HISTORY? Here's SPEECH I wrote for my book, "KENNEDY'S TWINS–THE TRILOGY." (FREE Audio Books):<https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CZ2NQTPH>

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CZ2NQTPH

Jul 18, 2025

(Hope my PAID subscribers forgive me unleashing the second half of this Reparations speech I wrote for my Black President’ character in “KENNEDY’S TWINS––THE TRILOGY,” The Story of JFK’s Secret Sons. At least I can announce here that a temporary 5-day FREE READ is available until 7/22, to you and everyone on KINDLE (links HERE for US, & UK) ,which amazon grants every 3 months for books in their ‘KDP’system.

By the way, it was a couple years before I DISCOVERED THIS OPPORTUNITY OF FREE ONLINE PR—found at KDP link, top-of-page “MARKETING’Run a Price Promotion/Free Book Promotion” where you get to select start-to-finish dates of free promotion for your self-published work.

For example, my book went from a several-million # rating to today’s #9 in Historical African Fiction, #53 in Assassination Thrillers (Kindle Store, and #68 in Historical Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Fiction. So the results are rather astounding!

FYI: Story follows the lives of both Jackson Little and his identical brother, John, through the years of their youth (1961-1970s) in South Side Chicago (where I was born & raised) and on to the White House, surviving racism and attacks, a switch of identity with survivor-John trying to combat the Dark State (a term I don’t actually use in the text, because it’s obvious that PRESIDENT EISENHOWER WAS RIGHT. At any rate, here’s a free 731-page ‘guilty-pleasure’ read (however much you can take…) or, if you’d rather be read to; CLICK on FREE AUDIO SAMPLES below, located at sites of the three individual novels in TRILOGY I’ve pictured.

Enjoy, Rick

(Original intro)

For those interested in the topic of “US Reparations,” paid to descendants of Black slaves and various NATIVE tribes, for enslavement/extinction!) in early America (today?), who have been brutalized, demonized and demoralized, here’s a speech I wrote for my lead twin character JACKSON LITTLE, one of the two ‘secret sons of JFK’ (he ultimately becomes the first black President. in my story). FYI: I wrote the first draft of “Black President” in 1999 (published by PICNIC PRESS, UK, 2008), quite a few years before ‘the impossible’ happened'—Barack Obama. (To hear this CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN plus the entire BOOK #1 as FREE AUDIO please check out the link to amazon/Kindle here!

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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

February 17, 1999

Now that Randle Robinson had finally arrived and taken his seat on the podium next to Jesse Jackson, it was time to begin the proceedings. The other “Jackson” on the dias, Assemblyman Jackson Little, had written his own speech, that is to say, had written and rewritten it, so that the thoughts he would shortly present were only those he knew from his own experiences. “Soul-pure” was the word his mother had coined, when she advised him to write his own speeches.

“Son, you got to tell the people what you think. If you’re going to be a leader... like... like John Kennedy, for instance...then you’ve got to be at least as involved as your speechwriters. You have to know what you’re talking about. So I say, study up on a subject, ask some intelligent people their opinions if you have to. Then sit down in some quiet spot and just write as fast as you can, make that pencil or pen dance! Ask the Lord to make your words just as soul- pure as he can.”

While Jackson Little, a 38-year-old Chicago Assemblyman from the fourth district, had had few opportunities to be in the national spotlight, Christ Church in Detroit had suddenly offered him that unique opportunity. And although he wasn’t the keynote speaker – Randle Robinson with his deep baritone voice was destined for that honor – Little was set to kick off the program following the opening prayer.

“Dear Lord,” said Reverend Jones, taking a big breath in as he looked out at the crowded pews, “Bless this house and those gathered under its wings of justice. May good sense and fairness be the order of the day.”

TV cameramen pointed their lenses toward the podium from each side, while sound men aimed the boom poles with fuzzy, wind- proofed mikes at the speakers from several locations throughout the church.

“And now, please join me in welcoming Assemblyman Jackson Little from Chicago, who will share his thoughts on the Reparations Bill. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Jackson Little.”

As reporters scribbled notes on paper, a few lifting their video cameras aloft to create a pictorial record of the historical event, Jackson rose from his seat to the left of Robinson and took the few steps to the podium. His mother and brother watched from their seats, near the middle of the congregation.

“Thank you Reverend Jones, for your fine words of faith and your continued battle to insure the rights of Americans of color into the 21st century.”

A few Oh yeahs sounded around the room.

“As a long-time resident of Chicago’s South Side, I’d like to say that I know your pain in Detroit...Yes I do.” More Oh yeahs were called out, getting louder with almost every word Jackson spoke.

“I’ve seen little boys and girls kicked and spit on...
(Oh yeah!)
...kids who went to bed hungry.
(YEAH!).
“I’ve seen Black families living on the street in the dead of winter .(YES!).
“Black women selling their bodies for food.
(OH YEAH!).
“And the Dear Lord knows I was fortunate to be spared most of their pain...
(LORDY!)
“...most of the suffering that our people have endured...(OH GOD!)...to let me be here with you-all today.” Praise the lord! OH YEAH!)

Everyone in the congregation was sitting erect now, alert in their chairs, some older folks with tears streaming down their faces. When Jackson stopped speaking, the room went so quiet that the hum of video tape reels were heard turning inside the cameras. All present had anticipated the launching of the Reparations campaign, but no one was prepared for the emotional speech from the young and relatively unknown Assemblyman.

“We were brought over to this continent, against our will...(YES WE WERE...)...
“And worked to the bone... (YES, Oh Lord!)

“...beaten and killed,
(OH GOD,“. ..stripped and whipped. (THAS RIGHT!).

“And we served. (YES WE DID!).

“We served our masters, and...(Jackson’s voice rising), “...and WE BUILT THIS NATION!”

By now many older parishioners had stood, hands aloft, their previous exclamations more a drone of pain remembered.

“Our hands carved the very stones that form our nation’s capital in Washington, D.C.–– this country, built on our blood and backs, sweat and tears..

(OH GOD...LORDY...OH GOD!
TRUE! IT’S TRUE!)

“The bricks and mortar, wood and timber, beams of steel that house the people of America, this United States, were carved, cast, carried and consecrated by our people! “OUR PEOPLE harvested the crops, picked that cotton and spun it into the very clothes you wear.”

The Assemblyman took a momentary pause before trying to finish up. Aside from a background of low cries the room quieted down, to better savor Little’s final words. Soon, the audience would get even more verbal, with a loud answer to every remark.

“Were we paid for our work?
(NO, NO SIR!)
“Were we thanked for our work?

(OH GOD NO, LORD, NO, NO, NO...)

“Were we honored for our work? NO WE WEREN'T. NO SIR)!

“We built the greatest nation on earth by the strength of our backs, for those same people who now want us to forget again?

( NO!).
“Well...we have a long memory. YES WE DO!”

From one end of the church to the other there rose the sounds of anger, sadness and joy, all mixed together to create a plaintive wailing more powerful than most had ever heard. The crowd suddenly erupted into a frenzy; people standing, chanting, with shouts and hysteria. But as the crowd cheered on, the Reverend rose from his chair. preparing to reclaim the room. Jackson quickly spotted this and fought to complete his speech. (Just two sentences left, he thought. Get it done!)

Gripping the mike against the Reverend’s approach, he barked out the finish.

“We worked FOR FREE, and BUILT WEALTH... (tiny pause). The audience embraced Little’s words as he called out…“and NOW, brothers and sisters, WE SHOULD BE PAID!”

“My name is Jackson Little, and I’m your Assemblyman from the South Side of...”

The end word, Chicago, was partially lost, as the mike changed hands. Returning to his chair, Jackson received broad smiles and nods from the fellow speakers. All realized that they’d just witnessed an important new political talent on the national scene.