his military service
KAS: Welcome, Will, to American Dissident Voices.
WWW: Thank you, Kevin. Glad to be here.
KAS: It was on the 22nd anniversary of American Dissident Voices — in December, 2013 — that you decided to re-launch the National Alliance. What were the events that led you to that decision?
WWW: December 28, 2013, I believe it was, you had your first American Dissident Voices broadcast in years. It was the 22nd anniversary of the first American Dissident Voices broadcast.
KAS: That’s right.
WWW: You produced and hosted that too. So that was a good date. But we had talked about re-launching the Alliance months before, maybe even a year before, when the former chairman decided that the Alliance was no longer going to be a membership organization and they were going to do away with the Membership Handbook that you and I had helped Dr. Pierce write in 1992 —
KAS: I believe the first edition was in 1992.
WWW: So the Alliance had been in steep decline for a decade. I couldn’t see not having a National Alliance. So we decided — you and I, pretty much — that we would start our own National Alliance and would make it a membership organization. We decided we would restore the original Handbook. We started with nothing — nothing but our will to build the Alliance, based on what Dr. Pierce had taught us.
KAS: And that’s exactly what we did. I think it’s been something like 110 American Dissident Voices programs since then — and it’s been over two years since we began.
WWW: Yes, and not one repeat show; it’s remarkable how you’ve been able to do that — every week you hit the mark — with all you’ve had to put up with.
KAS: Thank you. A primary purpose of the National Alliance is to secure the existence of the White race. Why, in your view, is it necessary that our race survive?
WWW: The answer should be obvious. Our people are worth preserving.
Often I ask people a direct question: Do you think the White race is worth preserving? If they say “no,” or shrug their shoulders or something like that, I move on. I don’t deal with them. But to the ones who say “yes,” I say: So you think the White race is worth preserving. Do you realize we have to fight to preserve it? Most will say yes. But if some aren’t able to understand that, then you move on past them too. Eventually you find the people who agree with us. They’re the ones we build with, to build our movement to preserve our race.
We’re separatists. We want a wholesome environment for our people. And we have to fight for it.
KAS: Not everybody is brainwashed. There are surely people who respond positively.
WWW: Yes, like the people who are listening to this show. Those are the ones we deal with. We also get a lot of negative responses, but our message is really not for the masses. It’s crafted for people who agree with our values.
KAS: What experiences in your life, and what influences in your life, led you to the view that the survival of our race is so important?
WWW: In my early life, I always was around my own people. I think the big jolt that I got was when I went in the Army, and entered basic training. I would say that over half of my basic training company consisted of Negroes from the inner city — mostly around Pittsburgh. It was culture shock. I had to sleep with them and shower with them and listen to them. We all had our hair cut off. We all had to wear the same baggy uniform. We were treated like equals — but we were anything but equal. That was the wake-up call for me.
KAS: So you’re in the Army. And you realize how different the Blacks are. How did that become so important to you — so important that you’d devote a large part of your life to the racial question? I mean, they’re different — but so what?
WWW: At that time, I didn’t devote my life to it. I did my four years in the Army: I matriculated into the infantry and then I went to Infantry OCS. [Officer Candidate School — Ed.] Then I went into the Special Forces — Airborne and all that. There, we just didn’t have many Blacks. So I —
KAS: The Special Forces — that’s an elite corps, correct?
WWW: Yes. Special Operations, they call it now. You’ve got the Seals, and Army Rangers, and Marine Force Recon, and Army Special Forces, and I think the Air Force has an outfit too.
KAS: So that was nearly all White, then.
WWW: It was, yes. They had pretty high standards: intelligence tests, physical endurance tests, swimming tests. The Blacks didn’t do well on that — they were called “rocks.” They sank.
KAS: Oh, because they sank… All right, So you devoted a number of years of your life to your military career. When you got out, what was next?
WWW: College. I was 23 and a freshman in college. Of course, I’d had some serious life experience — including a couple of tours in Southeast Asia. In comparison, college was kind of boring, frankly.
KAS: Were you political at college?
WWW: I questioned what was going on. It was 1970 and the country was in turmoil. We’d just gotten through the 1960s and there was all kinds of campus unrest. There was the anti-war movement, the “civil rights” movement, the homosexual movement, feminism —
KAS: And there’d been a number of riots also.
WWW: Oh, yeah. It was a very liberal campus. And I was a hawk. Almost everyone else was a dove. But I did all right. I made the Dean’s List. It wasn’t very challenging. I was studying architecture and art.
KAS: What field did you go into?
WWW: Building. After being a captain in the Army, I had to start over as an office boy in an architect’s office — sharpening pencils, emptying the trash [laughter], you know… It was quite a step down, but that’s the world. I had to start over and my job skills weren’t much in demand.
I started learning how to draw plans when I was in school. Then I dropped out and went out and did actual building. I think I had seven W-2s my first year, just paying my dues, learning how to do carpentry. But I had the advantage of knowing how to read plans, because I’d worked in an architect’s office. It wasn’t long before I had my own framing crew. I was framing houses and got pretty good at that. Then I sought out some of the best builders in town to go to work with them, to really learn the trades. I worked with one outfit where we built 57 homes in year, my partner and I. Then I moved over to absolutely the best custom builder in town. We used to design houses for him. I was his superintendent. I was paying my dues, working my way up.
Well, the economy got real bad, and I went back to school. It was the Jimmy Carter years. I don’t know if you remember, but — oh, man — the interest rates were like 21 per cent. You couldn’t do any business. So I went back to school. I still had the GI Bill. I studied architecture again. I started projects in school designing my own houses and building my own houses, using students for my labor — and the shop to build my stuff. They didn’t really appreciate it, but I took advantage of it.
When the economy got better again, I went back out. I had my general contractor’s license. I got my real estate broker’s license. You just keep working your way up. I started buying land and developing subdivisions. I started designing houses and building houses.
I was audited for the third time — getting audited just comes with the territory when you’re a contractor — after my house burned down and my ledger burned up. I had this Negress auditor come out — and she thought I had burned down my house to avoid an audit. And boy, the fight was on then.
I really came into the racial movement through the back door — as a tax resister. Because I didn’t burn up my house to avoid an audit. So I dug in my heels. And the fight lasted three years. And I swore, after that, that I’d never work again. They’d never get a nickel out of me. They could put me in prison or whatever they wanted to — I didn’t care.
I was looking around for groups that were fighting the government — because the IRS was so tyrannical. And I found the White Patriot Party. It was headquartered about 30 miles down the road from Raleigh. I had heard their leader on TV and on the radio, and I said [laughter] “Good night, how does this guy get away with talking like that?” I met up with some of those guys. They weren’t really my kind of folks for the most part, but I met some really good people. They banned that group within a year or so, for “paramilitary” activity — some consent decree that the leader signed with Morris Dees of the Southern Poverty Law Center. That was the spring of ’85.
So I decided to become an artist.
KAS: I’ve seen some of your paintings.
WWW: It turned out that I got pretty good at it.
KAS: I’ve seen your portraits of Dr. Pierce, which are both excellent, and I’ve seen your portrait of David Duke too.
WWW: Yes. I specialized in portraits. I’d sit somebody down and paint him from life. I went to a lot of seminars and workshops and painted a lot of pictures. I worked at it constantly for years. It wasn’t a very good living — but it gave me a chance to do pretty much anything I wanted to do with my time. And I spent most of my time working for the cause — and meeting people. From the White Patriot Party I met John and Tom Metzger, Ed Fields, and David Duke. I joined with the Populist Party and met a lot of people regionally instead of just locally. Some would come from all over the country. I met Gary Gallo — I think you might remember him.
KAS: I certainly do.
WWW: He was an Alliance member and he was an exceptional person. He graduated from West Point, then Georgetown Law School. Then he had his own group — the National Democratic Front. He picked up Gordon Ipock and I from the White Patriot Party, and a few others — Ron Doggett I believe. He made us his co-directors, or something like that. I organized rallies. I had one there in Raleigh for Gary’s group. I brought in a lot of people.
Tom Metzger was one I brought in from California. He asked me if I’d ever heard of Ben Klassen. I said I’d never heard of him. He said he was right there in North Carolina. Somebody had given me a book of Klassen’s, and I hadn’t read it. When I went back home I found it and read it. I believe it was his Building a Whiter and Brighter World.
Ben Klassen wrote several books, and founded the Church of the Creator, to promote Creativity — a new religion for White people. I’d never heard of anything like that before. After reading his book, I said to myself “This guy’s really got something here.” And I called up Tom Metzger and got Ben Klassen’s number and called him. Ben invited me up to meet him, and before you know it, he’d offered me a job working with him. That was a real turning point for me.
KAS: What year was that?
WWW: That was January of 1988. I went up there a couple of months later. I could tell it was going to be a difficult tour, because the place had really gone to the dogs.
KAS: Sounds like you have a penchant for taking on difficult jobs, Will.
WWW: It didn’t scare me. I was there to learn. I wanted to learn and pick this man’s brain.
He made me editor of his paper and gave me a title — Hasta Primus —
KAS: That’s Latin, right?
WWW: Yes, that’s Latin for “spear catcher,” I believe . . . yeah, actually it’s “first spear” . . . [laughter]
KAS: [laughter] Okay, there you go. . .
WWW: But I felt like a spear catcher.
KAS: You got me there!
WWW: You need to brush up on your Latin a little more. [laughter]
I worked there for 15 months and we really put the Church back up on top of the heap.
KAS: That was a religion that was not Biblically-based. It was not a revealed religion, correct?
WWW: No, not at all. It was —
KAS: More of a Nature religion, I’d call it.
WWW: It was Nature-based. His first book was Nature’s Eternal Religion. It was pretty much anti-Christian. He was exposing Christianity as totally unsuitable for our people. Creativity was based on common sense, science, Nature, and lessons from history. Mr. Klassen taught me a lot.