Just Think About It: God Vs Jesus Vs the Preacher

By James Jackson Jr.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781796090949

James Jackson Jr.

My name is James Jackson Jr. I am sending this note to let you know the reason why I am writing this book. I watch television, gospel programs, and I can see how the preachers are taking the advantage of the people who don't know any better. I don't like what I see. It's wrong to take advantage of people, especially using the names God and Jesus, whom the people praise so much because of what they have been taught. It hurts me so much, so I decided to write this book to make the people aware of the false teachings, the lies, and these are lies when you use God and Jesus. People are vulnerable and will almost accept anything you tell them. These preachers know they are lying and using the Bible to rob the people. I don't like that.

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Copyright © 2020 by James Jackson Jr.

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Rev. date: 04/03/2020

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H ello, my fellow Americans and people all over the world. My name is James Jackso n Jr.

I was born in Plains, Georgia, in the year 1936. My mother was Flowzella Times; she died on February 1, 1992. My father’s name was James Jackson; some people called him Jim. I never had a relation with my dad. I only saw my dad once in my life. I must have been around four or five years old.

My father lived in another part of Georgia. I don’t know the name of the city, but it was not that far from Plains Georgia. I don’t know what his mother or father were named. My father had sisters. I don’t know if he had any brothers. I do remember one of his sisters were named Catherine; they called her Cat.

My sister and I went to visit our dad the one time. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with him; my sister sat on one leg and I sat on the other, at the same time. Oh boy, we thought we were into something big, seeing our dad for the first time and being able to just touch him and sit on our dad. Oh boy, it was a good feeling.

My father did not live with his family; he was visiting at that time. But some way my grandmother got the news that my father was coming to visit his sister. I am not sure but I think one of his sisters were named Rose.

My sister and I lived with our grandparents, from infancy until I was nine years old; my sister was ten years old. My mother would come up from Florida and visit us every now and then. She lived in Florida. My grandparents lived in Plains, Georgia.

My grandmother’s name was Mary Willis Times, my granddad’s name was Calvin Times. They had sixteen children. I don’t think I can remember all of their names, Horace Times, Willis Times, Clevelin Times, Joe Times, James Times, Calvin Times Jr. Daughters’ names were Fannie Mae Times (Baker), Suzie Times (Jackson), Mattie Pearl Times.

Flowzella Times (sis) Times

Eva Maude Times.

That’s all I can remember, for now.

Proceed with names:

Carrie Mable Times

Ida Bell Little, Kattie Willie Times, Margariet Times.

M y mother came to Georgia in 1946 and took us, her children to Florida, with her; mother had four children, three boys and one girl. I saw a lot of things while I was in Georgia. We lived down the street near a white family, the only name I can remember is Mr. Elmo. My mother used to iron clothes for them some time to make a little m oney.

We had a dog named Daniel that was the smartest dog I have ever seen. We did not have to go hunting for rabbits; all we had to do was tell Daniel how many rabbits we wanted, and he would go and get them up to three and bring them home, ha ha ha, and that’s no joke.

Daniel did not like white people. We didn’t know why. We did not teach him to not like white people. No white person could come in our yard. Daniel would bark them away. We had to say, It’s OK, Daniel, OK! Then he could come in with no problem. Maybe Daniel was aware of something we were not.

One day a man came in our yard riding on a tractor, a big John Deere tractor. Daniel did not like that. Daniel jumped up on the tractor and bit the man; he knew no white person could not come in our yard. He thought he could do it on a tractor. Well, he thought wrong. So what he did was he came and killed our dog and told us he had to send the dog’s head away to see if the dog had rabies. They just came and killed Daniel, our house protector.

They could tell us anything; we never saw any paper confirming he had rabies; he had no sign of sickness. I saw Ku Klux Klan’s ride in groves at night right by our house going to burn a cross or to beat a black person. I knew this lady who was writing the numbers. A man told her if she wrote another number. He was going to tell the police. So she told the pickup man what the man said, and she told who the man was, and that man was never seen again. I don’t know what happened.

They locked me up in jail one late Saturday night, early Sunday morning, and would not tell me what they were locking me up for. I worked at a meat-packing company called Colonial Packing Company.

They caught two young men stealing meat from the company that worked on the second shift. I worked on the third shift, so the police came and got me off the job, took me to jail, and locked me up. I went to court on Monday morning. The judge said to me, James, we don’t have any evidence on you, so we are going to let you go, but you will have to pay the cost of court fifty-four dollars. I said to the judge, No no, if you want to charge someone for the cause of court charge, the person that had me arrested.

You know back in 1958, you did not talk back to an officer, more or less a judge. Oh yes, Colonial Packing Company was in Boca Raton, Florida.

So after what I said to the judge, someone sitting behind the judge got up and said to me, Go down to room number . . ., I forgot the room number, but I went where he told me to go, and I waited until he came; he said to me, "We are going to