Speaker 1: I moved from Vietnam to Seattle when I was in
my early twenties. My family was very poor in Vietnam
and there weren't many opportunities for me back home. I
didn't know much about the places on the West coast
of America, but I heard that Seattle was a welcoming
city for immigrants with plenty of ways to make good money.
My little brother also moved with me in hopes of
getting a good education once we could afford it, and
since then we've been working our asses off. After about
a year, I became good friends with one of my coworkers.
Right around then, the fourth of July was coming up.
That's when the three of us planned a trip out
to the best beach my friend knew about, which was
a place called Ocean Shores. On the morning of July fourth,
we bought some bootleg fireworks and a bottle of whiskey.
Then in the evening, we piled into my friend's car
and made our way to the beach. We all shared
the bottle, enjoyed the views with the other beachgoers, set
off fireworks. It was quite the blast. Some cops came
and kicked us off the beach. Saying the fun was over.
We decided to head back to Seattle, but before then
we wanted to grab some snacks and soda for the road.
We pulled up to the nearest gas station and that's
when our wonderful night ended. There was a small group
of men standing around the case of beer in front
of the store. They were waving a big flag I
didn't recognize, so I asked my friend about it. He
said it was the Confederate flag, or, as he put it,
something very bad. As soon as we stepped out of
the car, all their attention was on me and my brother.
Bit nasty things at us, a lot of which I
won't speak.
Speaker 2: Hi pig, yes, kypop boys. We don't want you here. Hey,
we'll leave it. We just want some sodas first. Maybe
you didn't understand my engrish. I said, go back to
your country, invite over there, dipshit, dude, Just ignore them.
They're drunk.
Speaker 1: We managed to get into the store, but I knew
it wasn't over. They were watching us through the windows.
The main guy kept banging on the glass and yelling
to get our attention. Then every time we caved in
and looked, he would run a finger across his throat.
The thought that they wanted to harm us freaked me
the hell out. My friend tried to tell me they
wouldn't actually do anything, but I'd never encountered such an
angry person before, so I was terrified, thinking I might
need to defend myself. I looked for weapons. That's when
I found some small knives on a shelf, so while
the cashier was distracted, I took two out of their
packaging and put them in my pocket, one for me
and one for my brother. I felt bad for stealing,
but I was scared of not being able to defend
myself against those freaks. After a few minutes, we got
what we wanted from the store and checked out, which
led us to the hard part getting past those jerks
and into the car. The moment we went out the door,
they were surrounding us and yelling in our faces. They
kept trying to get us to fight them, but we
just wanted to leave. By sticking together, we got out
the store, made it to the car, and got inside.
We quickly locked the doors, but then just as we
thought we were safe, they blocked us from leaving. The
car was completely surrounded, so there was no way for
my friend to get away without running them over. I
was panicking out of nowhere. The same guy that was
outside his window started punching the glass and screaming. I
could tell he was getting under my brother's skin, but
I had no idea what would happen next.
Speaker 2: Whyn't you come out of the car and make me
something for Amazon? Leave us alone, you asshole? What did
you call me? Come out and fight me? Then, come on,
fight me like a man, you little bitch.
Speaker 3: Then, in the blink of an eye, my brother unlocked
the door and opened it. The man outside ripped it
open and pulled my brother out, then started attacking him.
I rushed out to stop it, but by the time
I got there, my brother was on the ground and
wasn't moving, while that asshole was still standing over him
and screaming at him. For the first and only time
in my life, I truly lost control of myself. That's
when I took the knife out of my pocket and
did be unthinkable.
Speaker 1: I didn't.
Speaker 3: I just kept stabbing him without holding myself back. I
don't know how long it went before I was finally
pulled off. I was relieved as I saw my brother
getting up, but then I noticed what I had done
to that man. He was on the ground, lifeless. As
the cops came and took me to jail, all I
could think about was that I had ruined both my
life and my brothers. I would go to prison or
get deported, then he would be on his own. Luckily, however,
that wasn't the case WHI I went back and forth
for months, but the jury eventually ended up in a
stalemate and I wasn't tried again. Still, what happened that
night still haunts me, as I'm sure it haunts the
friends and family of the man.
Speaker 1: I took out. I didn't want to do it. I
just wanted to protect my brother. I hope everyone can
understand that this story what's inspired by a disturbing incident
regarding a male name Maine Duck Hong, who stabbed his harassmer,
Christopher Kennison twenty three times. On the fourth of July. Hong,
his brother, and a friend were all visiting from Seattle
when they pulled into a Texico station shortly after one
am to get a snack. Kennison, drinking beer with a
small crowd in the parking lot, waved a Confederate battle
flag and yelled racial slurs at them. Once the three
were inside, Kennison banged on the store's window, pointed at
them through the glass, and repeatedly drew his finger across
his throat. Outside. One witness said she asked Kennison what
he was doing. It's called racism, was his reported answer.
Honk stole the two small pairing knives from the store,
later testifying that he was frightened. Kinnison and his friends
screamed at the three and even spat on them as
they made their way back to the car. Kennison then
blocked their path when they tried to drive away, and
punched Hong's brother when they got out of the car.
Honk admitted that he did try to stab Kennison, but
he said he was unsure if his blows had connected.
The case split the town. Some complained that Honk was
not being prosecuted accordingly, while others angrily criticized authorities for
trying him at all, noting that Kennison had recently been
involved in a series of past racially driven incidents. Hong
was ultimately freed in his manslaughter trial. My second husband,
Alan was a wonderful man. He was raising his son
from his first marriage. When I met him, and I
was also a single mother with my daughter at the time. Together,
we created a new family and stayed together for years.
He was a hard working guy. Of course, despite being
a grown man with children, Alan still had some immature
tendencies that he needed to get sorted out. For instance,
Alan had a thing where he would go overboard with
drinking on certain celebrations, and no example was worse than
the Fourth of July. It was Alan's favorite holiday. He
touted himself as the all American patriot and made himself
the center of attention every Fourth of July celebration. Sadly,
I don't mean that he took charge of coordinating cookouts
and firework shows for the neighborhood, but that he would
dress up like Uncle Sam and make a damn full
of himself. Every year. He would find out where everyone
was gathering and go there after drinking a bunch of
beer all afternoon, then start dancing and yelling a bunch
of nonsense. He even carried a tip jar around with
him like some strung out bum. I have to be honest,
I hated it so much. Everyone else in the neighborhood
seemed to love it, though, egging him on and even
throwing money at him. It always made me feel like
I'd married a clown. It creeped the kids out, too,
because they would always wonder why their daddy was acting
so strange and scary. I asked people around the neighborhood
if we should talk to Alan, but everyone would tell
me that he was just doing it to help people
have a good time and maybe scrape up a few
extra bucks for us. Despite the problems I had with
Alan's Uncle Sam routine, I tried my best to be supportive.
But then one year Alan threw me another curveball. He
wanted to add fireworks to his act. I was immediately
against the idea, as whenever he was Uncle Sam, he
was pissed drunk Uncle Sam. I knew nobody that intoxicated
should ever mess around with fireworks, not even the little
stuff like firecrackers, let alone anything more dangerous. Unfortunately, Alan's
mind was already made up and it cost one of
our only nasty fights.
Speaker 3: Alan, you can't do this. What kind of example is
that gonna send for our kids?
Speaker 2: Are you saying I'm too stupid to handle some fireworks?
Speaker 3: Up and setting them off my whole life and.
Speaker 2: Didn't get hurt. What's the difference.
Speaker 3: Now you're a drunk, you idiot. I don't want you
to blow your hand off.
Speaker 2: Oh right, because then I wouldn't be able to work
and pay for all your goddamn bills anymore. Right? Or
maybe because I won't be able to tickle your sausage
wallet anymore.
Speaker 3: God damn it. You know that's not what I meant.
Speaker 2: Don't get off my case, you nagging bitch. Just leave
me alone, or I'm calling the cops.
Speaker 1: Our kids witnessed the fight too. Alan stormed off with
his tip jar and his fireworks and left us in
the dust. I had to calm the kids down for
a while before we were ready to join everyone at
the park. By the time we got there, Alan was
even more wasted than he was when he was screaming
at me. He was at the point he could barely
put a coherent sentence together, but that didn't stop everyone
from enjoying the yearly pre firework show featuring good old
Uncle Sam. They thought they were waiting until showdown for
the big Fourth of July show to start, but they
didn't realize that Uncle Sam had brought his own gunpowder
that year, so nobody was prepared to stop him.
Speaker 2: Here Hereie, gather around for a show of patriotism. I'm
Uncle Sam and this is my bag of trips. Oh God.
First things first, hon needs you to come home. You know,
uh whatever? Good enough? All right? Straight to the point.
My wife, the stupid bitch things. I can't operate this
year or rocking, So for my first trick, I am
gonna breathe or chairman. Happy Fourth of July. Everyone, Uncle
Sam is doing it for all the Americans. Sure what
was that? I can't hear you over.
Speaker 3: My entire reality shattered in that moment. It was like
a scene from a horror movie, but it was real.
I saw, our kids, saw the entire neighborhood witnessed it.
The cops for the first to arrive, but they knew
there was nothing that could be done. The paramedics couldn't
save him and pronounced him dead on a rifle. Every
Fourth of July since then, this moment just plays in
my head over and over again. This story was inspired
by a horrific Fourth of July incident regarding as South
Carolina dad who was seen dancing in his front yard
while dressed as Uncle Sam moments before he passed away
after igniting a large firework on the top of his head.
Alan Ray McGraw, forty one, had been celebrating the Fourth
of July on Thursday evening at a neighborhood block party
in Somerville, Dorchester County, dressed as Uncle Sam. Footage captured
by his wife Page showed McGraw dancing a jig in
his full festive outfit as he celebrated the holiday. Witnesses
told investigators that McGraw had placed a large firework on
the top hat he was wearing before lighting it, causing
the device to explode. McGraw's wife told deputies she believed
he placed the firework on his head to show off
and was drunk at the time. McGraw was found lying
irresponsive in the road by deputies who rushed to the
scene after the party came to an abrupt end. It
was said that the exploding device had caused massive head
trauma that took out McGraw instantly. His wife, Page said
she had been telling him to stop playing with the
fireworks before it exploded and did what he did. She
told the outlet he was holding this firework over his
top hat. I thought he was just show voting before
he set it on the ground. I didn't realize he
had already lit it. I was lucky enough to have
met my wife in high school, eventually marrying her and
starting our own family. We had a son named Jamie.
He grew up to be around twelve years old when
this occurrence happened, which just happened to be on American
Independence Day. It was supposed to be a good day.
On July fourth, my neighborhood hosted a block party at
the local community park before the big annual fireworks show.
When we got there, the place was already packed. There
were flags waving, large groups of families dispersed everywhere, and
some people out with their lows on chairs waiting for
the fireworks show to start.
Speaker 1: There were food trucks along the sidewalks. That's when my
wife asked if I could grab some food from the
food trucks. I agreed, but just before I went, I
saw him. A beat up, dark colored sedan pulled up
across the street from the park and in there was
a young man just sitting there watching us. He had
this look that scared the shit out of me. His
face was covered in tattoos. I didn't want to judge
him by his appearance, but the guy looked like some
gang member or someone just there trying to stir up trouble.
He seemed to be intrigued by everyone, staring at the
direction of some teenage girls near a taco truck. That's
when I asked my.
Speaker 2: Wife, Hey, Claire, do you see that guy over there
in the car? Uh?
Speaker 3: Yeah, who is that?
Speaker 2: I don't know. Something just feels off.
Speaker 1: He's probably just waiting for someone.
Speaker 2: I'm gonna just grab the food. You two stay here,
all right.
Speaker 3: Of course, we'll be right here.
Speaker 1: I walked to the nearest food truck and stood in line.
I kept glancing back to see if the car had
left or something, but it, unfortunately, was still there. The
man hadn't moved, he just sat there watching. After several
minutes of waiting, I finally made it to the food
truck to place my order. That's when I heard it,
a loud bang, followed by another. At first I thought
the fireworks had started early, but then came the screams.
I turned around and saw people running, pushing, shoving, dropping
their food and drinks everywhere in a frantic state. More
bangs echoed through the air, and that's when I finally realized.
Speaker 3: What they were. Someone was letting off either fireworks or
a firearm into the crowd. I ducked for cuffer, hiding
along with a large group of people behind the food trucks.
Speaker 1: I was scared shitless. The only two people in my
mind was my wife and son. God I couldn't see them.
People were running and scattering everywhere, making it near impossible
to find them in the chaos. But after a few
minutes of surveying.
Speaker 3: The area, I saw her, my wife. She was lying
on the ground and Jamie was kneeling beside her, sobbing,
holding her hand, screaming for help.
Speaker 2: No, no, somebody help us. Ah.
Speaker 3: I couldn't stop screaming, no matter how much I tried
to call for help. Everyone was in survival mode.
Speaker 1: I was helpless. I could hear the sirens from a distance,
which meant the police and paramedics were on the way,
but every minute seemed like forever. I was nung, barely
seeing the flashing lights as they carried her to the ambulance.
They wouldn't let me ride with her. They said they
needed space to work on her. My son and I
got to the hospital, praying and begging for the best
possible outcome. But then the doctor came out and gave
us the worst possible names, saying my wife had passed
and that there was nothing they could do to save her.
And just like that, I lost my wife forever. I
dropped to my knees in front of the doctor and
lost my shit. The next day, the news exploded with
headlines and on the screen was the face of a
familiar man. It was him, the guy in the car.
The suspect turned out to be a twenty one year
old man named Robert Cramo. Police say he is the
person of interest in the random attack at the Fourth
of July parade. It was alleged that he was a
criminal that had a long history of offenses. What makes
this story all the more disturbing was that he didn't
have any real motive. He didn't have any connection to
anyone in the park. He just wanted to take people out.
It was just random.
Speaker 3: Terror.
Speaker 1: Footage showed that he opened fire from his driver's seat
while screaming I'm.
Speaker 2: Gonna get ya, I'm gonna get you, I'm gonna get ya.
Speaker 1: They caught him later that night. When police approached him,
he was crouched on the floor, smiling back at them
with no signs of remorse. It's been a year now.
My son Jamie is in therapy. Has for me. I
barely sleep. I still see my wife Claire in my dreams,
but sometimes I also see that guy. I see him
smiling back at me with the firearm pointed at me.
People tell me I was lucky, but it doesn't feel
like luck when you lose somewhat important. Every time Fourth
of July creeps back around, my son and I stay
home because every time we hear fireworks, we think it's
that guy coming back for more. This story was inspired
by a disturbing incident regarding a man named Robert E.
Cremo the Third, the suspect responsible for a deadly mass
attack at a July fourth parade in Highland Park, Illinois.
At least six people were taken out in the firearm attack,
and dozens were injured. Police said the suspect appeared to
carry his attack out from a rooftop. Witnesses described frantically
fleeing when they realized they heard loud bang sounds and
not fireworks. Authority said that Cremo was spotted by a
North Chicago officer who attempted to initiate a traffic stop.
Cremo then fled and led the officers on a brief
pursue before being stopped in Lake Forest. Still, he has
been arrested by the police and taken into custody. When asked,
authorities said they are still calling Cremo a person of
interest while they investigate and connect him to the scene. Allegedly.
The event was scheduled to include floats, marching bands, and
community entertainment as part of the city's Independence Day celebrations,
but what should have been one of the happiest days
of the year quickly turned into panic, with pushchairs, purses,
and lawn chairs left discarded on the street as crowds
fled from the scene.