About it all.

Back in the days when 9mm ammunition cost five dollars a box, I was involved in gun right advocacy. For the next 20 years, I was involved in every monumental legislation across the country-especially that had a connection to so-called minorities. I took the name of "Black man with a Gun" as a homage to Robert F Williams who wrote "Negroes with guns" in 1968. I worked with the NRA, SAF, LEAA, GOA, local and state gun clubs across the country to unify the movement. I made lifelong friends.

I played a role in shaping policy and educating the public, helping to grow gun clubs nationwide. My advocacy came at a cost—I sacrificed a career in government and navigated personal challenges at home. But the mission mattered.

I launched a podcast originally titled The Urban Shooter, which became a platform for dialogue, education, and empowerment. I published a book and founded the 10th Cavalry Gun Club in 1991, a pioneering space for African-American gun owners.

During the Y2K era, I built a website that, for a time, outpaced even the NRA's in reach and influence. I helped identify and support litigants in major Second Amendment court cases. But beyond politics and policy, my work became a ministry—serving outdoor enthusiasts, law enforcement, and veterans. It was rooted in unity, compassion, and the healing of old divides.

Times changed. Politics grew sharper, more divisive. The world shifted, and with it, the culture. People felt emboldened to say anything, publish anything. Social media rewrote the rules of publishing, and its rising stars often had no sense of the history that came before.

I wasn't the young kid anymore. It was time to move forward, to reclaim the pieces I'd left behind. Still, I see traces of my journey—my fingerprints on the struggle. Thirty years later, I found myself returning to music, diving into the sounds of my guitar heroes, the blues masters, the jazz legends.

Today, I'm not competing with anyone. I'm learning the blues—physically, metaphorically, spiritually. My latest book, Finding Joy in the Blues, captures some of that wisdom.

Since the global pandemic and my wife's illness, I've stepped into the role of caregiver. Social media has become my journal, a space to document my progress and share the journey. Sometimes, the music even sounds good. I'm becoming a performer—and it brings me deep joy.

thanks for being a part of this project.

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