Rundo's spot

Fireworks and bottles began getting hurled over the police barrier at us. An M80 exploded between me and an older flag-waving woman, sending her stumbling backwards in fright. "Nazi scum, off our streets!" was screeched at the top of their lungs by an assortment of fat lesbians with purple hair and black-masked Antifa. The tension thickened until it was all you could taste. The riot police that separated the two sides began to disperse back to their patrol cars, looking on passively. A "stand down" order was most likely given in hopes left-wing mob would wipe us out so the liberal stronghold of Berkeley could happily live on without us "right-wing nuisances". This is what they hoped for at least, but that day they didn't expect our new breed of nationalist.

An older guy with American-flag biker jackets got pulled over the flimsy plastic barricade to the enemy side where he was immediately pummeled by the black-masked college kids. Again we lead the resistance and sprang over to defend the fallen man. We stuck close to each other, as orange streams of mace sprayed out at us when we came into their lines. Bottles got flung, punches were thrown, and shortly, in seconds, we were left standing together as the frenzied left-wing mob backed away from us. One shaggy haired kid held his nose as blood oozed through his fingers spilling onto his Communist t-shirt, the look of shock screaming from his teary eyes. we recovered the fallen man and slowly made our way back to our side of the park, and were welcomed with applause and pats on the back. A grey-bearded man wearing a veteran hat came over shaking our hands, and he said, "Thank you boys for being here."

More showed up to counter us this time welding skateboards and clubs. Yvette Felarca, a well-known Antifa organizer showed up and began stirring up the left-wing mob as she screamed Antifa slogans through loudspeakers. Emboldened by their numbers and weapons, they pushed to set off another altercation.
We gladly meet them again, smashing our way through there side of the event, and everyone on the patriots' side of the event began sticking together now. The Antifa banner that Yvette Felarca brought got snatched by one on our side, and we kept it. They swung clubs, we swung fists, but they swung wildly while we swung with aim.

Within minutes, the outcome went our way and the left-wing mob began to disperse, running in all directions through the streets. The last bit of black-clad Antifa were being removed from the park when police come from behind us. And, without warning, I was body-slammed by a riot cop and punched while on the ground. blood trickled from my lip but I couldn't wipe it, as cuffs were now tightly secured around my wrists. The cop alleged that I assaulted him. I was walked to the police van with no regrets as I held my head high. Our side chants, "Let him go let him go," as I was marched to the back of a police van. I was booked on the fictitious charges of assault on an officer (later these were dropped, as this did not happen and video footage showed it).

I made bail a few hours later when my comrades went through the crowd asking for donations to get me out, and in solidarity the people gave what they had in their pockets.

Although I was not able to see the day through, my comrades told me all about the rest of the events of that day on the drive home and showed me the footage that was now viral all over Youtube and social media. That day would come to be known as "The Battle of Berkeley".

Whether it was directly or indirectly related to that day, there seemed to be awakening in the White American consciousness. There was a turn in the tide. The Alt-Right scene and nationalist scene seemed to explode all over the country. People started coming out to demonstrations more, and not allowing themselves anymore to become victims.

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