Too funny/wrong.
Klan Rally 70 Percent Undercover Reporters
SPARTANBURG, SC—Vowing to "defend white
Christian America against its mongrel assailants," some 20 members of
the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan and more than 45 investigative
reporters posing as members rallied on the steps of Spartanburg's city
hall Saturday.
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Undercover reporters and a handful of actual Klansmen at the rally.
"Don't blow my cover, but I'm actually here doing a story for Dateline NBC,"
said John Larson, a correspondent for the newsmagazine, speaking from
under a white hood. "Man, I've caught some unbelievable stuff on the
digital recorder strapped to my chest. [Dateline executive producer] Neal [Shapiro] is definitely gonna want to lead with this piece."
Joining Larson in the call for white racial purity were reporters
covertly working for dozens of newspapers, magazines, and television
programs, including The Washington Post, Newsweek, and 20/20.
"I'm doing an article for The Atlantic Monthly about what it
means to be part of the Klan in the 21st century," said Peter
Underwood, a 1999 graduate of Columbia University. "Well, okay, I'm
doing it on spec, but I know they'll go for it. Worst-case scenario,
I'm sure I can at least get some of the secret documents I snagged into
the Readings section in Harper's."
"My editor absolutely eats this undercover shit up," said Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
reporter Brian O'Neill, holding aloft a "Wake Up, White People!" sign.
"More important, so does the Pulitzer committee. I think this may
finally be my year."
O'Neill said his white robe "provides a steel cloak of anonymity," not only from the public, but also from other reporters.
"I was in the hotel this morning, and I ran into Jason Garcia. He's a reporter at The Orlando Sentinel
who I know a bit from SPJ conferences and whatnot," O'Neill said. "He
was pretty vague about what he was doing in Spartanburg. Later, at the
rally, I couldn't help but notice that nice Citizen diving watch he
wears sticking out of a Grand Council robe. Damn, that guy always was a
go-getter."
Over the course of the two-hour rally, no journalists were ferreted
out by the Klansmen. To the trained eye, however, some differences
could be detected. Several times, reporters were seen disrupting the
marching formation as they stooped to scribble notes, take photos with
digital cameras, or answer cell phones. In addition, a number of
lavaliere microphones could be seen poking out of robes.
The undercover journalists were also distinguishable by their
footwear. While the real KKK members tended to wear heavy work boots,
the journalists were divided between sensible leather oxfords and
beat-up sneakers.
"I think I did a pretty good job blending in," said Debra Rafalski, a freelancer on assignment from Mother Jones magazine. "At one point, I even shouted, 'Let's send those n-words back to Africa!'"
One of the few journalists to speak before the crowd, Rafalski told
rallygoers that the event represented "a triumphant exercise of our
First Amendment rights."
"Free speech, regardless of its content, always deserves full
protection—not because it is necessarily right or good, but because our
democratic institutions are only safe when all ideas, no matter how
hateful or virulent, are allowed to be heard," Rafalski told the crowd
through a bullhorn. "In fact, all of you counter-demonstrators, I
respect your right to be here, just as the U.S. Supreme Court has
determined that it is our right to be here."
Added Rafalski: "Oh, and also, the Jews are bleeding this country dry."
The rally also gave the reporters a chance to interact with Klan
members one-on-one. While preparing for the march to city hall, 60 Minutes
reporter Richard Carleton chatted casually with a KKK member who was
painting a "Hail Hittler [sic]" sign with one hand while holding a beer
in the other.
"Isn't it interesting that the original KKK was organized in
Pulaski, TN, during the winter of 1865 by six former Confederate army
officers?" Carleton, clad in a white robe, remarked to the man. "We
gave our society a name adapted from the Greek word kuklos, or 'circle,' and our activities were directed against the Reconstruction governments and their leaders, both black and
white. As a member of such a tradition-based organization, how does
that make you feel? Do you think this fact subverts our modern agenda?"
Carleton then rushed back to his room at the Spartanburg Ramada to
transcribe his notes while the exchange was fresh in his mind.
In spite of the significant attendance boost provided by the
reporters, some KKK members said the rally turnout fell short of their
expectations.
"In my granddaddy's day, 10, 15, even 20 hundred Klansmen used to
come 'round for a rally," said Valdosta, GA, carpenter Randy Jones, a
KKK member since 1988. "The way things are nowadays, we didn't even get
to have horses at the rally because we couldn't fit their food and
transport into the budget."
Saturday's rally nearly had to be called off, but was saved from
cancellation by the reporters. Less than an hour before the scheduled
start time, the chapter realized it did not have the $1,500 "parade
fee" required by the city. Fortunately, dozens of new Klansmen like Chicago Tribune reporter Stuart Zimmel volunteered to chip in an extra $50 each.
"I did have to pay membership dues and the extra $50 and buy the
robe and all that, but as long as I save my receipts, I should get
reimbursed for everything by the
Trib," Zimmel said. "I admit,
it's strange to give money to a group that wrongly persecutes so many,
but that just makes it all the more vital that I blow the lid off their
inner workings and expose their racist agenda once and for all. Plus, a
story like this will look pretty sweet in my clips."