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Quote by Captain Hank Bracker, "Salty & Saucy Maine"

“The City of Boston allowed us to dock at the dilapidated Mystic Wharves, right next to where the ships from the Havana Line used to tie up. Without knowing it, we were witnessing the end of an era. Steamship companies that connected Cuba with the United States were dwindling, as commercial aviation came into its own. The Havana Line was already gone, and the New York & Cuba Mail Steamship Company, commonly called the Ward Line, was a shipping company that operated from 1841 until 1954 and ran “Whoopee Cruises” during the prohibition years. Because of a number of accidents, including the fire on the SS Morro Castle off Asbury Park on September 8, 1934, the company was left hanging on by a thread. In the mid-1950’s it was still possible to buy a round trip passage from Miami to Havana for about $45.00, which was a bargain, even in those days.”

Quote by Captain Hank Bracker, "Salty & Saucy Maine"

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Captain Hank Bracker, "Salty & Saucy Maine"

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“To a great extent, violence is a part of our culture. It amazes me that violence is readily accepted as the norm. We can see that, when movie producers don’t hesitate to show extreme bloodletting and the horrible way some of us treat our fellow human beings. As a result, we are not shocked when we hear about the slaughter of innocent people on the streets or in our schools. We protect our right to carry firearms never considering that our perception of what the second amendment says has been molded by special interest groups, who are ready to fight for any issue they are paid to promote. Lately I’ve had to wonder just how civilized we really are. Consider the issues we face every day and ask if we really have “Liberty & Justice for all?” Are we all equal under the law or are some of us more equal than others? Do we really live in a democracy or is it just an allusion and finally what would our founding fathers expect of us?”

“Ann enjoyed baking and loved to cook, but the times when she didn’t cook, we would go out for a pizza. As far as I was concerned, the best pizzas were made in Portland, and the best Italian Grinders came from Brunswick. With all of the carbohydrates the two of us consumed, I have no idea why we didn’t bloat out and get fat, but youth was still on our side. Besides, we did get enough exercise. The cardboard box I had struggled with in the blizzard was now defrosted. The ice had melted and the cardboard was wet and soggy, however the ingredients were still intact. Even the large bags of sugar and flour were still dry. Ann didn’t need a recipe and mixed the ingredients together professionally, using a large wooden spoon. She worked in the butter and thinned the mixture with the small containers of milk I had brought. Before long, the mixture was of the right consistency. She then poured the batter into a deep metal pan, and baked it in the oven at 350 degrees for 25 or 30 minutes. It’s amazing how serious the two of us could be when it came to getting this kind of important work done. While we were at it, we also made chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies. Although Ann did most of the work, I was the hero when I returned to the ship with all the goodies. There was something to be said for having a beautiful girlfriend who also knew how to bake delicious cookies!”

“I knew that once I was sworn in, I would be a Midshipman in the United States Naval Reserve and a Cadet in the United States Maritime Service. That meant that I would be a low life “plebe” or “mugg” to the upperclassmen. Everyone on the bus had a good idea of what we were in for as muggs, and it was not good. The bus rolled through Bucksport and then passed through Orland, which could hardly be called a town, onto even narrower, bumpier roads, to what seemed to be the end of the Earth. By now, it was getting late and the shadows were getting longer, as the bus ground up a long incline and then turned right, past a small golf course on a barren hill. Finally, I saw the “Maine Maritime Academy” sign, indicating that we had arrived. I don’t know what I expected, but the few buildings on the side of this windblown hill wasn’t it! The buildings that I was looking at would be my home for the next three years. The bus took a final left hand turn and pulled up alongside a relatively large red brick building. I could see the upperclassmen through large windows, anxiously awaiting our arrival. Seeing us, they finally knew that they had graduated to the exalted position of “Lord and Master.” For the first time, I got that sickening feeling of total helplessness, mixed with apprehension and anxiety. There was nowhere to hide and I refused to show my feelings, so I compensated by getting off the bus with a swagger and a smug grin that would soon get me into trouble and be wiped from my face. If I wanted to survive, I had better be ready to play their game and put up with the countless acts of immaturity that would be bestowed upon poor me….”

“Our history has been over the years passed to us verbally by our forefathers - little preservations were made and we do agree that gospel (Latin: 'Good story') according to our forefathers can never remain the same when it has passed through centuries with no written documentations. There will be some elements of exaggerations, discrepancies, and interpolations but our hearts remains true to information closer to the source, hence IsokoHUB.”

“I would nod along for the sake of peace but in truth some part of me always rebelled. Why did he think it so important for me to know that Beethoven dedicated a sonata to a mulatto violinist, or that Shakespeare’s dark lady really was dark, or that Queen Victoria had deigned to raise a child of Africa, “bright as any white girl?” I did not want to rely on each European fact having its African shadow, as if without the scaffolding of the European fact everything African might turn to dust in my hands. It gave me no pleasure to see that sweet-faced girl dressed like one of Victoria’s own children, frozen in a formal photograph, with a new kind of cord round her neck. I always wanted life—movement.”

“In this age of mounting violence and insecurity, it was perhaps not surprising that ties between villages weakened, communities became introverted and levels of trust plummeted dramatically. Societies atomised and disintegrated, leading to fragmentation that encouraged differentiation along ethnic and other grounds. Research has suggested that these breakdowns developed into long-term issues which are still prevalent today in many parts of West Africa, and explain low levels of co-operation, low levels of trust and poor economic performance.”

“The brainwash of the African people through the Bible was so effective to the point that it convinced millions of Africans to see themselves and their ancestors nothing else but enemies of Israel. We built churches to preach against ourselves, our cultures, our own origins. We convinced each other through the Bible to reject who we were, where we came from, and most importantly, our astrology. Saturn trines Ketu. We are beginning to remember now. Let's go max!”

“Nguni and Kemet people are the same. After comparing all historical and current human-based traits, including linguistics, it is evident that Nguni people migrated from Kemet. Their grandfather, Ntu, is the one born in the land of Kemet. Ntu begot Nguni. Nguni begot the four Nguni brothers: Xhosa, Zuluman (Zulu), Swati, and Ndebele. The resilience of their offspring, for example King Shaka Zulu, President Nelson Mandela, and Mama Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, reflects their Kemetic roots fully. After years of not knowing where the Kemet civilisation migrated to, as it was hidden, it has now been revealed. And the ancestors’ healing has begun.”