The Citizen Rising

By Roger Knight

While growing up within a loving African American family, a little boy develops a deep understanding of right and wrong and the responsibility that accompanies his choices. Some forty years later, Rohillio Jabel recognizes that it is only through Gods grace and mercy that he has been successful in life. Buoyed by his ideals, innovative ideas, and commitment to helping those less fortunate than himself, Rohillio begins to rise in his south New Jersey community.

Rohillio, now known as the Citizen, is disenchanted about the biases that plague the American justice system and tired of belonging to a powerless race. Determined to change the black experience for the better, Rohillio recruits eight peopleincluding ministers, a college professor, a teacher, a banker, a beautician, and drug dealersto help him in his mission to start a new political movement that he hopes will transform their town. But as the eclectic group attempts to fulfill Rohillios mission, it soon becomes evident that their road to success will be lined with many more challenges than they ever imagined.

The Citizen Rising shares the tale of one mans journey to change the mind-set of a city with the help of a group of black citizens determined to help him realize his dream.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491716724

Roger Knight

Roger Knight was born and raised in New York City and enjoys politics, history and esoteric studies, sports, and socializing. He tries to lead his life by the mantra that the journey is more important than the accomplishments. Although he is now retired He feels blessed to have experienced the American dream when he was just thirty seven years old.

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Copyright © 2013 Roger Knight.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-1673-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-1671-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-1672-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921655

iUniverse rev. date: 02/20/2014

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 The Binding of the Spirits

Chapter 3 Genesis

Chapter 4 Unscheduled Opportunities

Chapter 5 A Message to the Future

Chapter 6 Enemies at the Gate

Chapter 7 The Vampire Millionaires

Chapter 8 Vulgar Displays of Power

Chapter 9 The Emergency Meeting (Reflections and Assessments)

Chapter 10 The Ascension

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I have been fortunate to have met many people of substance that have influenced me on my journey in life, however there are three people who are no longer here on earth, who without their mentoring, nurturing , and inspiration , I would not have the ability or willingness to have completed this work.

In memory of Robert Henry, William Bellinger, and Barbra Washington. I also want to acknowledge my two sons Rahim Knight, and Anwar Knight, when they were teenagers our Friday night conversation about the world (their world and mine) gave me the idea to write this book.

Sir Shadow whose poem and art work have always inspired me, last but not least my siblings Robert (Brother), Audrey, Iris, Rosalie, and Purvis Jr. (Junie). Whom have shown me nothing but love and encouragement my whole life.

PROLOGUE

It was Wednesday, and not unlike any other Wednesday, except it would be different than any Wednesday before.

On his way home from school, he was racing his friend Johnnie Hinton and losing the competition as usual, but he was only nine while Johnnie was eleven. This time he only lost by a step and a half. He was getting closer, and he reasoned that by the time he turned ten he would be able to beat Johnnie. He was a little small for his age; however, he was very energetic and athletic. He had brown skin and a smile that lights up his handsome face. But on that day, he had something else on his mind, two things actually. The first was to hurry up and do his homework so he could watch The Mickey Mouse Club. The second was to give his mother a note from his teacher for twenty-five cents toward his first copy of the Weekly Reader. Wednesday was learning day on The Mickey Mouse Club, and he could hardly wait for Jiminy Cricket to sing his song: It’s in the encyclopedia. E-n-c-y-c-l-o-p-e-d-i-a.

He had finally learned how to spell encyclopedia and wanted to spell it for his mother, who would be in the kitchen fixing him a snack while she watched Liberace on TV.

The Weekly Reader was a newsletter for elementary school students beginning in the fourth grade. It dealt with current events, both foreign and domestic. In retrospect, it could arguably be called a political propaganda newsletter for schoolkids, but to Rohillio, it was his introduction to the world. He would meet Eisenhower, Nixon, Kennedy, Khrushchev, Castro, Mao Tse-tung, Russia, Dag Hammarskjöld, Korea, Cuba, Sputnik, Telstar, the United Nations, communism, and democracy.

He didn’t like cartoons too much, so learning day and adventure day were his two favorite times to watch The Mickey Mouse Club. Jiminy Cricket taught him that he could find most things and learn about them in the encyclopedia.

Adventure day taught him about American history through stories about Davey Crockett, Daniel Boone, and the Swamp Fox… but that Wednesday, when he got home, the door (which was usually open) was locked, and when he knocked, his father answered.

Oh hi, Daddy, he said with a surprised look on his face.

Hello, son, his father said. After you finish your homework, I want you to straighten up your room. Your brother is coming home from Germany for a visit, and your mother wants everybody’s room in order.

Oh wow! Rohillio said with his eyes wide and an ear-to-ear grin on his face. He ran to his room to do what his father had told him.

It had been eighteen months since his brother, who was in the army, had left to go to Germany. His father worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. He lived in the projects back then. At that time, only government workers or their widows or widowers could live in the projects. No individuals on welfare or public assistance lived in the projects prior to the 1960s. He lived in a three-bedroom rectangle apartment on the sixth floor of a fourteen-story building—one bedroom for his parents, one for his two sisters, and one for him and his older brother. He had another sister who was married, and his eldest brother is now coming home from Germany. Rohillio finished his homework in forty-five minutes and began cleaning his room. He had all but forgotten about The Mickey Mouse Club when the doorbell rang.

He ran to his mother and father and let them know that someone was ringing the doorbell. His father answered the door. The excitement was building inside Rohillio as he anticipated his brother walking through the doorway.

Who is it? his father said, looking through the peephole. No, I’m not interested.

A salesman, Rohillio thought to himself. His father was very adept at handling salesmen. Back then, there were lots of them going door to door. The family had been warned that if anybody signed up for anything, it could mean their life. But this was different. His father and the salesman were still talking. Then his father opened the door and invited the man in; Rohillio was shocked. That had never happened before. The man sat down in a chair in the living room, opened his suitcase, and showed his father a very large book. His father was tall and muscular, a good three inches taller than the middle-aged, porky salesman with a suit, tie, and briefcase who now sat in his father’s recliner chair in the living room. Curious, Rohillio could see the salesman from the edge of the hallway. He was careful not to get too close, as he was taught to stay out of grown folks’ conversations.

The salesman noticed Rohillio standing in the hallway and asked his father, Is that your son? Do you think he knows anything about encyclopedias?

Rohillio, come here, his father said. This is Mr. Leggett. He is selling encyclopedias. Do you know what they are?

Rohillio looked at the man and then at this father. He almost sang as he spelled it. E-n-c-y-c-l-o-p-e-d-i-a. Then he quoted Jiminy Cricket. It’s a book about people, places, and things in our world. It’s in alphabetical order.

Did you learn that in school? the salesman asked.

"No, I watched it on The Mickey Mouse Club; it’s on right now."

The two men were surprised by the boy’s answer, but his father got up and immediately turned the television on just in time to hear Jiminy Cricket sing, It’s in the encyclopedia, e-n-c-y-c-l-o-p-e-d-i-a.

After a few minutes, his father invited the salesman to sit at the kitchen table. His father filled out the papers and ordered the entire set of encyclopedias. It would take Rohillio’s father seven years to complete the payments. He figured that would give his son enough time to absorb everything important these books had to offer and be thoroughly prepared for college. He was right.

The salesman gave Rohillio a special book that he had in his briefcase. It was a geography book full of maps. Each map came in three colorful sets: one was a regular map, another about the indigenous peoples, and a third showing animals and natural resources. It would be another hour before his eldest brother would arrive. By that time his older brother and two sisters would be home from school and work, but the tension was still building when the intercom buzzed. His sister, who was a senior in high school, ran to the intercom.

Who is it? she said with a big smile on her face.

It’s Brother! This was his oldest brother’s nickname.

She rang the buzzer. Then her and Rohillio’s other sister ran to the elevator in the hallway to greet him. A well-built man with a mustache in an army uniform walked in the apartment; it was nostalgia as the rest of the family ran to greet him. To Rohillio, it was the happiest of times—better than Christmas. That night his father would tell the story about Rohillio and the encyclopedia to his brother and the rest of the family.

His brother would tell Rohillio how proud he was of him. The whole family stayed up very late that night listening to his brother talk about Germany and the rest of Europe. No one listened more intently than Rohillio.

During the evening, Rohillio remembered about the Weekly Reader. He walked over to his father, who was sitting in his recliner chair listening to his big brother.

Excuse me, Daddy, he said. "I forgot. I need twenty-five cents for the Weekly Reader."

"What is the Weekly Reader?" his brother asked.

It’s a paper we read in school, Rohillio answered. Wait a minute, he said. Rohillio went into his room and came back with the free sample copy his teacher had given him to take home. He showed it to his father and eldest brother. The final confirmation was made by his older brother, who was in high school but remembered the Weekly Reader from when he was in elementary school; only then it was a dime.

The four of them read the paper. His father and two brothers each made comments and opinions about the foreign countries, places, people, and events that were mentioned in the Weekly Reader. A few years later, Rohillio’s second brother would be coming home on leave from overseas after enlisting in the air force.

It became a tradition in his family that whenever one of his brothers would come home from the military on leave, Rohillio would stay up half the night listening to each of their escapades about people, places, things, and politics that he would otherwise know very little about. This would go on for the next ten years until he went away to college. Then it would be his turn. But on that day, that special Wednesday, the combination of the Weekly Reader, the encyclopedia, The Mickey Mouse Club, and his brother coming home from Germany would have a subtle but profound impact on his life and his attitude, for the rest of his life.

This early educational foundation did give Rohillio an edge in life. However, more was expected of him. He developed a deeper understanding of right and wrong, the gray areas in between, and the responsibility that came with it.

This knowledge and understanding did not shield him from the pains and agonies of life that we all must go through. Teenage inadequateness, social failures, success, marriage, divorce, fear, rejection, happiness, and disappointments were all part of his life.

He was always athletic; he was thirty years old before he began to put his health and fitness back together. Married life had made him soft and easy, he reasoned when he couldn’t run a block to catch a bus. That embarrassing experience put him on a path of nutrition and exercise that would stay with him the rest of his life. His divorce devastated him, but he managed to recover and prosper.

Conversation and communication were the key elements in his development. His family and friends taught him how to think, not what to think. He had slick friends in high school and college, and smart and successful friends and acquaintances as an adult. They all taught him never to settle and never to think of himself as less than anyone else regardless of their money, property, or prestige. At forty, he understood the concept that men were made, not born, and that it was only through God’s grace and mercy that he was successful. He believed he had an obligation to help those less fortunate, especially his own people, and it was then, with the development of his spirituality, that he truly began to rise.

CHAPTER 1

He sat in his computer room for hours. He had never been in such emotional pain and anguish; the factory was destroyed, burned to the ground. But more importantly a dozen people were killed, engulfed by the fire, including one of his close friends, who was not killed by the fire but actually murdered. A beautiful woman, also a close friend, was disfigured. He could still hear the screams of all the burned victims, and he would never forget that putrid smell of burning flesh. He believed he was responsible for all of this because of his ideas and his ideals; he had underestimated his enemies. As these thoughts were going through his head, he felt devastated, angry, and defeated. He knocked over the computer monitor to the floor, turned his desk over, and proceeded to tear the entire room apart as he let out some of his anger and frustration that was beginning to overflow in his system. Then he sat down and thought about everything that had happened these past four-plus years.

Four years earlier.

The Meeting of the Minds

The trial was over; the policemen were acquitted. As he was leaving the courtroom in Albany, New York (the capital of New York State), Rohillio remembered the community board meetings he used to attend many years ago when he was married and living in the Bronx (one of the five boroughs that make up New York City), especially when the police and politicians attended and gave talks.

He was a little shy back then, so whenever someone would ask him his name, he would just say he was a concerned citizen. But his personality, comments, and ideas were so profound and innovative that people started calling him the Citizen, and that name stuck.

That’s where he first met the district attorney from the Bronx, Ronald Jackson. The two of them had exchanged ideas. One of the Citizen’s ideas was to open the schools for youth community centers in the evenings and on weekends, using the money taken from drug busts and other crimes. The amount of money taken during the busts would be listed in the legal notices in the city newspaper. Once nobody claimed the money, the money would be put back into the neighborhood where it was found. Businesses like McDonald’s and Burger King, Pepsi, etc., would then match those funds to pay for councilors and general operating costs so it would not affect the city’s budget.

His idea was only modestly successful. A few schools did get after-school programs, but a lot of money went into Ronald Jackson’s youth program. Ronald Jackson stole Rohillio’s idea, and he did a bad job in court.

Rohillio didn’t like Ronald then, and he didn’t like him now. However, Rohillio got more involved in political and social reform by writing letters to local politicians. He authored a few articles in the local newspaper and a magazine article from time to time. Rohillio would always sign his name A Concerned Citizen. More and more often, his friends and associates began to refer to him as the Citizen or Citizen Jabel.

It was drizzling on the day he left the courtroom. He asked himself why he thought the trial would have ended any other way. If the people didn’t have the power to hold the trial in the county where the crime was committed, why was he stupid enough to think there could possibly be a conviction? The police had never been convicted of killing a black man, so why did he think this would be any different? This was especially true in Albany, where they hadn’t convicted a policeman in a hundred years. He felt like a fool as the answers to his questions came to him. He had allowed himself to believe in American justice and had forgotten about the just us that applied to black people and other people of color. He had allowed himself to forget that important fact. A young man had been shot forty-one times. Some of the bullets had entered through the bottom of his feet, which clearly proved he was shot on the ground. A year ago, the police had killed a Latino youth in front of his house because a football hit the police car. Another Latino youth was shot in the back. The mayor said the youth was a gang member. Citizen Jabel wondered if the young man had gang member written across his back. The police were out of control with a license to kill. The Citizen was angry and sad as he contemplated the plight of his people. He asked himself the same questions everybody asked him whenever he described the black experience in America: What are you going to do about it? and What would it take to change the black experience in America? He had known the answers to both questions for some time, but he also knew that to do this would change his life forever. He pondered this last question as he drove back to Queens (Note: New York City is made up of five boroughs—Brooklyn, The Bronx, Queens, Manhattan, Staten Island). That was the real question. Was he willing to put his personal life aside and do the work that was needed to benefit his people?

He was a successful black man in every aspect of his life. He was financially secure, in excellent health, well educated, socially accepted where he went, and he enjoyed a good relationship with his two grown sons and ex-wife. But it didn’t take long for him to make his decision. On his way home, he stopped by a local card shop and bought twelve of the most expensive invitations they had. He reasoned if he could get the support he needed, then he would commit to it. He had eight people in mind, and five of them would have to commit. It had only taken him a couple of hours to get to his house in College Point, Queens. It was springtime; College Point was a beautiful town with nice homes and parks. It was a town in every sense of the word. It reminded you of the old Western movies where the stores and businesses were on the same street. College Point Boulevard was the main commercial strip. Most of the homes were on the side streets on or near the water and the marinas. It was a peninsula and College Point Boulevard was full of private businesses owned or ran by people who lived in the town; even some of the bankers lived in the community. It used to be strictly an Irish/German town, but over the last few years it became an ethnic melting pot but still a town, not a neighborhood.