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A DARK DAY FOR INDEPENDENT JOURNALISTS: Berkeley August 27th for the past six months I have been reporting on events from Portland Oregon to Los Angeles California. My purpose is to document the new Patriot Movement and the efforts of the left to destroy free speech, capitalism, and the American way of life. I am always non-confrontational, never yelling, being physical, or provoking violence in any way. I simply report real news that Americans are being deprived of everyday. I aim to change the false narrative the Mainstream Media has been peddling. I do that through my twitter, a blog, and my YouTube channel. I covered the Milo protest and the unprovoked violence perpetrated on unarmed citizens for no other reason than supporting President Donald Trump. I was there on the ground risking my safety, possibly my life, unprotected, unarmed, during the March 4th MLK Park Battle of Berkeley, and the now famous April 15th Battle of Berkeley. I have riot gear that I have never worn. In Berkeley, in hind sight, maybe I should have. I have also covered many other events. Why? Because I’m a journalist. I don’t fight. I report. With cameras in each hand, it’s hard to do anything other than report, and that includes even the ability to defend myself.
While covering a ‘Say no to Marxism’ event in Berkeley, California, I was brutally attacked by the Antifa Black Bloc on Alston Way, just west of MLK Park. While the official event had been cancelled, I knew there were a number of Patriots, including myself who believed we should not allow Antifa to silence Americans with violence or threat of violence. When the day began, Berkeley police were everywhere! They were lining the park and mixing with the crowd. The entire park and parallel streets were blocked off leaving only two places to enter and leave. Berkeley Police dutifully made sure that Patriots carried nothing that could be used to hurt anyone, and also made sure no patriots could possess any helmets or other defensive protection. As the Mainstream Media was there conducting interviews, it looked like a long boring day ahead of me. Then, at about noon, a large contingent of Antifa came marching into the park. As you can see in many videos, they wore black from head to toe, many had helmets, shields, and other offensive and defensive weapons and implements. We were immediately and vastly outnumbered, out armed, and had been stripped of most anything that could offer protection from attack should one occur. Police allowed them in, and they instantly began massing around any patriot they could find and started chanting “Nazi go home!” and other slogans as they harassed and threatened them, and they began literally running them out of the park. Fortunately, Berkeley police were there and would surround the unfortunate American Patriot being targeted and escort them out of the park so they were not physically attacked and beaten. After an hour or so, something strange occurred. As I looked around to take in the surroundings, I noticed the entire park had somehow, inexplicably, and rather quickly, become devoid of Law Enforcement. The Police who stripped people of any protective clothing or gear, who allowed Antifa to march in, armed to the teeth to threaten and intimidate fellow Americans, had now vanished!
Now the only thing between the few Patriots left in the park and over 1,000 masked and armed Antifa was a simple low-lying cement barrier. Antifa immediately began violently clearing the park of any remaining patriots. A large number of them, now at extreme risk, headed down Alston way to escape with Antifa on their heels. I was among them. The violent black mob was surging all around me. There had to have been two hundred of them; masked, armed, angry and unchecked, but I stayed because that’s what I do. I film Antifa committing criminal acts against unarmed innocent Americans. Suddenly an angry Antifa member, who’d run me off earlier in the day, turned around and saw me. He pointed at me and began shouting “That’s the guy who’s been ruining your lives!” That was all it took, and they pounced! There were so many in the black block, I had no chance of being able to successfully defend myself, but thought “I just might be able to run out of there.” I then turned to escape, took a step or two, and from behind, out of nowhere, a stick or pole smashed down onto my camera knocking it out of my hand and to the ground. To a journalist, his camera is his livelihood. It’s his passion. His life. You’d have as much luck taking a camera from a journalist as a gun from a soldier, but my grip was no match against the blow.
They immediately began hitting me over the head and that’s when I went down to the ground; stunned by the ferocity and dazed by the attack, I desperately tried to protect my head, face and body with my arms and legs. One Antifa was repeatedly swinging a metal flag pole with both hands and connecting with my body time and time again. It was so hard, in the video the pole looks to have bent from repeated blows across my head, back and body. Another Antifa member was relentlessly pummeling me with his fists. Blow after blow after blow, like a boxer punishing a heavy bag. But I wasn’t a heavy bag, I was a helpless journalist, now without a camera, curled up on the ground being ruthlessly beaten by a half dozen people. Another Antifa member was stomping on body, another was kicking me over and over with full force. As I lay on the ground, being pummeled from head to toe, thoughts and emotions came over. “I’m going to die,” I thought. I thought of my children, said a quick prayer, and hoped it would be quick, because there was no way I could get out of this…
Then it stopped! There was screaming, and motion, and activity, but the pummeling stopped, there was just what seemed like a weight on my body. I was so disoriented I had no idea why they stopped or what was happening. I just knew the beating ended. Then someone dragged me to my feet. An Antifa member ripped my backpack from my hands. For a split second, I considered going after it, then I decided I wanted to live. So, I ran, or rather, hobbled while a contingent of Antifa followed close behind taunting and threatening me.
I kept thinking… “But I’m a reporter…” then I turned down a side street, still being followed and there came several police cars driving slowly towards me. A bystander who’d seen the whole thing went into the street and approached the cop cars who had their windows down. He pointed to me and shouted, “This guy is hurt. He just got attacked and he needs an ambulance.” I could have kissed him right then and there. But I should have known the Berkeley Police weren’t going to do anything, and they didn’t. They just kept driving by and completely ignored the good citizen trying to help, and me, hobbling down the sidewalk flanked by, harassed and being threatened by Antifa. I made it to my car without further incident but it was getting harder and harder to keep going and had to rest. It wasn’t until later that evening that I realized videos of my attack were all over the internet and twitter. Everyone was talking about it.
It was only then that I realized why I didn’t die that day. A man, I’ll call him a good Samaritan because he may not want to be named here, is the reason they didn’t kill me. He is a large black man who put his own safety aside for the benefit of a complete stranger. As I laid on the ground being beaten, this man threw his body over mine. As blows rained down he spread his arms as wide as he could to cover as much of me as was humanly possible leaving him completely unprotected, and me as much protected as possible. He took blows from a flagpole, and maybe more, before they finally stopped. Maybe I’m being dramatic when I say I believe they would have killed me, but that’s what HE believed as well. He wrote about it. I have reached out to him on twitter and I hope he reaches back. I want to thank him for my life. Without him, God only knows where this would have ended and I shudder to think about it.
They beat me that day, but they will NOT beat me. They took all my gear, but they will NOT stop me. I lost a high-end video camera with all my footage, redundant power sources, batteries, an expensive REI backpack, cords and cables; everything I need to do my next job September 14th reporting for Campus Reform when Ben Shapiro comes to speak at UC Berkeley. The medic who examined me believed me to have broken ribs on my left side and a bruised, or even worse a damaged right kidney. I have a concussion and lumps covering my head, split lips, scrapes and bruises. Since the attack I’ve urinated blood from the trauma.
None of this would have happened to me or other journalists and Patriots if the police would have done their sworn duty to protect and to serve. Instead they allowed armed and violent Antifa hoards to enter the park, and then they left allowing a much larger black bloc to incite violence and attack citizens for no other reason than they disagree with them. Something good has to come from this. For me, that good is helping me pay my medical bills, equipment replaced, and pursuing legal action against the perpetrators, along with getting myself healthy and back on the street, reporting and filming everything the media will not. Thank you.
While covering a ‘Say no to Marxism’ event in Berkeley, California, I was brutally attacked by the Antifa Black Bloc on Alston Way, just west of MLK Park. While the official event had been cancelled, I knew there were a number of Patriots, including myself who believed we should not allow Antifa to silence Americans with violence or threat of violence. When the day began, Berkeley police were everywhere! They were lining the park and mixing with the crowd. The entire park and parallel streets were blocked off leaving only two places to enter and leave. Berkeley Police dutifully made sure that Patriots carried nothing that could be used to hurt anyone, and also made sure no patriots could possess any helmets or other defensive protection. As the Mainstream Media was there conducting interviews, it looked like a long boring day ahead of me. Then, at about noon, a large contingent of Antifa came marching into the park. As you can see in many videos, they wore black from head to toe, many had helmets, shields, and other offensive and defensive weapons and implements. We were immediately and vastly outnumbered, out armed, and had been stripped of most anything that could offer protection from attack should one occur. Police allowed them in, and they instantly began massing around any patriot they could find and started chanting “Nazi go home!” and other slogans as they harassed and threatened them, and they began literally running them out of the park. Fortunately, Berkeley police were there and would surround the unfortunate American Patriot being targeted and escort them out of the park so they were not physically attacked and beaten. After an hour or so, something strange occurred. As I looked around to take in the surroundings, I noticed the entire park had somehow, inexplicably, and rather quickly, become devoid of Law Enforcement. The Police who stripped people of any protective clothing or gear, who allowed Antifa to march in, armed to the teeth to threaten and intimidate fellow Americans, had now vanished!
Now the only thing between the few Patriots left in the park and over 1,000 masked and armed Antifa was a simple low-lying cement barrier. Antifa immediately began violently clearing the park of any remaining patriots. A large number of them, now at extreme risk, headed down Alston way to escape with Antifa on their heels. I was among them. The violent black mob was surging all around me. There had to have been two hundred of them; masked, armed, angry and unchecked, but I stayed because that’s what I do. I film Antifa committing criminal acts against unarmed innocent Americans. Suddenly an angry Antifa member, who’d run me off earlier in the day, turned around and saw me. He pointed at me and began shouting “That’s the guy who’s been ruining your lives!” That was all it took, and they pounced! There were so many in the black block, I had no chance of being able to successfully defend myself, but thought “I just might be able to run out of there.” I then turned to escape, took a step or two, and from behind, out of nowhere, a stick or pole smashed down onto my camera knocking it out of my hand and to the ground. To a journalist, his camera is his livelihood. It’s his passion. His life. You’d have as much luck taking a camera from a journalist as a gun from a soldier, but my grip was no match against the blow.
They immediately began hitting me over the head and that’s when I went down to the ground; stunned by the ferocity and dazed by the attack, I desperately tried to protect my head, face and body with my arms and legs. One Antifa was repeatedly swinging a metal flag pole with both hands and connecting with my body time and time again. It was so hard, in the video the pole looks to have bent from repeated blows across my head, back and body. Another Antifa member was relentlessly pummeling me with his fists. Blow after blow after blow, like a boxer punishing a heavy bag. But I wasn’t a heavy bag, I was a helpless journalist, now without a camera, curled up on the ground being ruthlessly beaten by a half dozen people. Another Antifa member was stomping on body, another was kicking me over and over with full force. As I lay on the ground, being pummeled from head to toe, thoughts and emotions came over. “I’m going to die,” I thought. I thought of my children, said a quick prayer, and hoped it would be quick, because there was no way I could get out of this…
Then it stopped! There was screaming, and motion, and activity, but the pummeling stopped, there was just what seemed like a weight on my body. I was so disoriented I had no idea why they stopped or what was happening. I just knew the beating ended. Then someone dragged me to my feet. An Antifa member ripped my backpack from my hands. For a split second, I considered going after it, then I decided I wanted to live. So, I ran, or rather, hobbled while a contingent of Antifa followed close behind taunting and threatening me.
I kept thinking… “But I’m a reporter…” then I turned down a side street, still being followed and there came several police cars driving slowly towards me. A bystander who’d seen the whole thing went into the street and approached the cop cars who had their windows down. He pointed to me and shouted, “This guy is hurt. He just got attacked and he needs an ambulance.” I could have kissed him right then and there. But I should have known the Berkeley Police weren’t going to do anything, and they didn’t. They just kept driving by and completely ignored the good citizen trying to help, and me, hobbling down the sidewalk flanked by, harassed and being threatened by Antifa. I made it to my car without further incident but it was getting harder and harder to keep going and had to rest. It wasn’t until later that evening that I realized videos of my attack were all over the internet and twitter. Everyone was talking about it.
It was only then that I realized why I didn’t die that day. A man, I’ll call him a good Samaritan because he may not want to be named here, is the reason they didn’t kill me. He is a large black man who put his own safety aside for the benefit of a complete stranger. As I laid on the ground being beaten, this man threw his body over mine. As blows rained down he spread his arms as wide as he could to cover as much of me as was humanly possible leaving him completely unprotected, and me as much protected as possible. He took blows from a flagpole, and maybe more, before they finally stopped. Maybe I’m being dramatic when I say I believe they would have killed me, but that’s what HE believed as well. He wrote about it. I have reached out to him on twitter and I hope he reaches back. I want to thank him for my life. Without him, God only knows where this would have ended and I shudder to think about it.
They beat me that day, but they will NOT beat me. They took all my gear, but they will NOT stop me. I lost a high-end video camera with all my footage, redundant power sources, batteries, an expensive REI backpack, cords and cables; everything I need to do my next job September 14th reporting for Campus Reform when Ben Shapiro comes to speak at UC Berkeley. The medic who examined me believed me to have broken ribs on my left side and a bruised, or even worse a damaged right kidney. I have a concussion and lumps covering my head, split lips, scrapes and bruises. Since the attack I’ve urinated blood from the trauma.
None of this would have happened to me or other journalists and Patriots if the police would have done their sworn duty to protect and to serve. Instead they allowed armed and violent Antifa hoards to enter the park, and then they left allowing a much larger black bloc to incite violence and attack citizens for no other reason than they disagree with them. Something good has to come from this. For me, that good is helping me pay my medical bills, equipment replaced, and pursuing legal action against the perpetrators, along with getting myself healthy and back on the street, reporting and filming everything the media will not. Thank you.
Organizer
Keith Campbell
Organizer
Missoula, MT
