The Top 40

, Mr. Miller, it's good to finally meet you. We've been heanrig a lot of great things about you. Getting back to our vehicles, Bob asked me to lead the way to their motel, and that since he had a lot to discuss with his friends, they would all ride with him.Arriving at the motel, some 30 minutes later, everybody except Bob and I went into the rented room, one closing the door behind them.Standing outside together, Bob said to me, come back tonight at 9:00 and we'll give you the money then. OK, Bob, that'll be fine. It's better that I not be seen too much with yaw'll, since my face is known just about everywhere I go, especially here in Benson, and I might draw the cops to you. I left then, but returned promptly at 9:00 p.m.After knocking and being allowed into the motel room, I found them all sitting around on beds or chairs or standing beside the dresser on which sat a machine, which I was told was one of their voice stress analyzers, a modern version of a lie-detector machine.They would give me this machine the following day, explaining that it was the best on the market, and sold retail for $8,000. It appeared brand new.They greeted me with smiles and hail victories, which I returned and after a few minutes of small talk, Bob handed me the small paper sack containing the $75,000 in large bills. The stack of money was no more than eight or ten inches high.And so, they all got to see my facial expression, and I didn't disappoint them. Grinning and looking grateful and sheepish, I told them that words could not describe my appreciation, and that I hadn't known that America still had White men willing to put their lives and freedoms on the line for our Race, as they were doing.One Order member came to my rescue, and said, Don't worry about it Mr. Miller, what you are doing is more dangerous than what we're doing, because you're out in the open. I appreciated his words.Thanking them again, I turned to the door, indicating that I was leaving, and Bob followed me outside to my truck.Seeing that I was somewhat in a state of awe, and emotionally moved by the experience of being in the presence of all those revolutionists, Bob patted me on the back as I sat behind the steering wheel, and said, Take it easy buddy, everything's going to be all right. Don't worry about a thing. I'll call you tomorrow. I said Hail victory, raising my hand in that salute, smiled my thanks and drove away into the night toward home.The day after giving me $75,000, Bob Mathews dropped by my house, as he'd promised. And, he was alone.Standing in my living room, he said, Glenn, you need a code name I can use in case I need to call you about anything. Do you have a nickname or can you think of one I could use? I though a few seconds, then said, Yeah, Rounder, you can call me Rounder. The name Rounder is the nickname of one of my favorite uncles, and in his case, it implied someone who gets around a lot. My cousin Bill Allen and a best friend schoolmate Freddy Smith and I got into the habit of calling each other by that name while we were growing up because we all thought highly of that uncle.All Order members had code names. Carlos was the code name chosen by Bob Mathews, and others went by names such as Lone Wolf, Grey Fox, Mr. Closet, and The Watchman, etc.The word Rounder alongside the name Glenn Miller written down on paper by Order members would show up at their trial in the form of evidence. Mathews would give me yet another code name, which was Swamp Fox, and that, too, was documented by Order members and subsequently became evidence for government prosecutors.Mathews had gotten the code name Carlos, from the internationally famous Palestinian terrorist, whom he admired.Bob left my house after only a few minutes visit, saying that he had many places to go and things to do, but adding, as he got into his car to leave, I'll see you in six weeks, with the rest of the money. The Stone Mountain, Georgia rally of 1984 was more successful than either the 1983 or 1982 ones, and 1985 was even bigger, indicating that the National White Movement was growing in number.That annual rally was an accurate gauge, in my opinion.By 1984, the strength of the CKKKK prompted Georgia rally coordinators to add a public march through downtown Stone Mountain, to the rally held on private property. And, since my military experience was known, I was chosen from among the 25 or more national leaders, to form the marchers into formation, and lead the public parade.I did this in 1984 and 1985, and both marches included 300 or 400 people, dressed in assorted uniforms. Some wore Klan robes, some camouflage fatigues. I had brought 150 or 200 of our Confederate flags mounted on flag poles, and these were carried by marchers. CKKKK members being the more experienced and best dressed in their camouflage fatigues, combat boots, and green berets, were placed in front, and in both 1984 and 1985, the CKKKK made up over half the number of marchers.With the use of my bullhorn, the sound of loud martial music, added to the flags and uniforms, I was able to orchestrate very respectable looking parades, which were captured on video by our two CKKKK camera men, Tony Wydra and Jesse Radford. Wydra was killed in 1989, under mysterious circumstances.Just after the parade, Charlie Reck was arrested on a firearms violation, and Steve and I had to bail him out from the county jail, costing the CKKKK $500. Reck was a tough, young former Marine who was our Security leader, at that time.Sanford, N.C. Den leader Rickey Nunnery rented a Greyhound-type bus and a driver in 1984 and transported CKKKK members to Stone Mountain. Other members traveled in convoys or in individual vehicles. Each year, I advertised the Stone Mountain rally in The White Carolinian, and placed large emphasis on the importance of a big CKKKK turn out to increase our prestige and to attract new members and supporters, even though the trip from North Carolina was long and costly.Returned home to Angier, I didn't have long to wait for the second and final donation from The Order.One day late in September, I answered the phone to hear, Hey Buddy, this is Carlos, how you doing? Not even trying to hide my joy, I said, Fine as wine, and twice as strong. How the hell are you doing? Bob replied, Ok. I'm at the location where we met the last time. I was wondering if you could drop by for a few minutes to see me. I'm in the same room as before. I responded, Sure, I'll be there in 15 minutes, and hung up the phone.Bob had only one other person with him this trip. It was Andy Barnhill, one of the two men who'd given me $1000 the previous April.I found Bob to be his usual charismatic, confident self, which is really remarkable under the circumstances. He knew by then the FBI was hot on his trail, but he didn't speak of it to me. To hear him talk, one would think he was immune from any interference, and that he would continue for years to rob banks and armored cars, and build his secret underground Army of White resistance soldiers.He exuded confidence and efficiency. And he impressed me as being brilliant, fanatically healthy, and incredibly perceptive. I would put him in the class with Hitler, Rommel, Stonewall Jackson, and Nathan Forest. And I am not exaggerating, he was an awesome man.Looking back with the benefit of hindsight and having studied the chronology of The Order's activities in detail, I am convinced that at that stage, Bob Mathews knew his days were numbered and that he would soon die for his Cause. And, not only did he believe it, he looked forward to the confrontation.I often since then fantasized a scenario wherein he and I were leaders in a great above-ground organization, with hundreds of thousands of members, and with millions of dollars with which to build the Cause of racial unity, strength and survival.We would have huge modern headquarters buildings scattered throughout the South, with Confederate flags mounted on 100-foot flagpoles in front. We'd stage mass marches and rallies, participated in by tens of thousands of young, healthy and enthusiastic people screaming their racial pride and solidarity, totally consumed with the determination to fight on and to overcome any obstacles that stood in our way.We would have the best young minds leading the growing formations of awakened White people in every community, town and city throughout the South, and their fanaticism would create inspiration and social upheavals that the White masses would overcome their fears and brainwashing and would love and support them. And, we would all march triumphantly to the Capitol of every state in the Confederacy, and demand sovereignty and independence from the federal government of the United States, with the absolute blessing and support of The Southern White masses.Bob greeted me at the door of his motel room in Benson with a big warm smile and a firm handshake. How yawe2€™ll doing? I said as I shook hands with Bob and Andy Barnhill. Things couldn't be better, Glenn, said Bob, sitting down on the edge of one of the two beds.Barnhill sat down in a chair near the window.I walked over and sat down on the other bed, near the phone and night stand. How's everything going with you, Glenn? What you been doing for the Cause? Bob asked.I handed him the latest edition of The White Carolinian, and showed him the picture of the 100,000 newspapers stacked on the flatbed truck, which I knew would impress him, and I went on to explain my actions since his last visit six weeks prior.I said, Bob, things are really going great with our Klan. I bought that station wagon you see out front. That stack of newspapers you see, is 100,000 copies. I paid a little over $7,000 for that. I bought a video camera to record our marches and rallies, and two VCRs, and I gave Steve Miller, my number two man, $10,000 for a few projects he's working on. I've got four men on the payroll now, including myself, and I'm paying them $800 a month. Let's see now oh yeah, I'm working on buying some property and I plan to build a headquarters building on it. I've found a bagpipe training school in Raleigh, but haven't got anybody enrolled in it yet, but I will soon. I've decided to give the station wagon to Steve, and I'll be buying another one for myself. I want to get something a little better on gas. I ordered 300 more large Confederate flags and I've already got the flag poles for them. I've got members all over passing out our newspapers, and new members are coming in faster than ever before. I bought six more message units, and I got three of them installed already and they're going full blast. Bob interrupted, Sounds good, Glenn, you've been pretty busy since I last saw you. We heard you were at the Stone Mountain rally and that you guys put on a great march down there. I've been traveling quite a bit, and I've got men scattered all over, and it's getting to be a job keeping up with them, but I promised you I'd see you in six weeks and here I am. I replied, I don't envy your job, Bob. Yaw'll have really blown my mind. I still can't believe it. I didn't know our Race had men like yaw'II left. It's just incredible to me. By the way, I want you to call my latest recorded message. We've got 17 units going now. Here, I'll dial one for you. And, I dialed the number to discover it was busy, so I tried again and finally got through on the third or fourth dial, and handed the phone to Bob.He listened to the two-minute message, and I could tell he was pleased because he insisted on Barnhill heanrig it. So, I redialed and handed the phone to Barnhill. Great message, Glenn. They should really be effective. Get all those going you can. Bob said. Glenn, here's a document I want you to read and memorize, then burn it after you have. It'll tell you some of the things I want you to do and a little about what we're doing and how we operate. And, one other thing, I want you to write down a telephone number. It's our message center. If you need to get a message to me, just call this number and give your code name Swamp Fox. This is the new code name I want you to use, explained Bob, as I listened closely, and wrote down the number on a piece of paper.After I had taken the document, Bob said, Glenn, we hate to rush off, but we're in a bit of a hurry, you understand. I'll be in contact with you when I think it's necessary. Ok, Bob, I said, One final thing, and I hate to bring it up, but, I need to know, so I'll know whether to spend the $200,000 fast or to conserve it. Can we expect any more money? Bob answered, We'll probably get more money to you, but it may be a while. But in any case, don't depend on it. Nobody knows what the future holds, but we'll do the best we can. From his tone and words, I concluded there probably wouldn't be any more and I dropped the subject.Bob then got up and picked up a medium sized cardboard box sitting on a table in one corner of the room, and handed it to me saying, Glenn, here's the rest of the money. Use it as a tool to further our Cause. Never look at it as money, just as a tool. Taking the cardboard box, I said, I understand. God bless you and all your men. I just don't know how to thank you and if I try, I'll probably start stuttering, so I won't try. Yaw'll be careful, and God be with you. I shook hands with him at the door, holding the box under my left arm, and Barnhill leaned over and shook my hand, and said, Good luck, Mr. Miller. I walked out then, sat the box in the front seat of the station wagon, got in and drove away.That was the last time I ever saw Bob Mathews. In less that 2 1/2 months, he would die a horrible death, burned alive in a burning house, intentionally set by agents of the FBI. His last act was to squeeze the trigger of his machine gun in defiance, as the smoke and flames engulfed him.