When I was young and living in New York, starting in ‘69, I marched for equality for gays, people of color, women.  I got shot at, gassed, hit with a fire hose—literally took my white life in my hands in the cause to progress the equality of American blacks.  Now, for what bothers me about this.  These days, I wish I hadn’t.  Back then there weren’t any Crips or Bloods.  Major city’s downtown areas were relatively “safe”.  Why?  Because back then, if a black man stepped out of line, didn’t behave himself like a quiet and responsible citizen, he was more than likely just beaten by cops or by gangs of whites instead of seeing his day in court.
And this is my reward.  Black gangs.  Black people acting like animals…attacking anything that moves. 
I wish I could take it all back.  I wish things were now the way they were back then.  I hate to say it, but at least when the American black man “knew his place”, was controlled, this country was a safer place.
I absolutely REGRET my part in the passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.  I wish it had never happened.”