The Life And Death Of Edgar J. Steele

This is a transcript of Mr. Covington’s podcast, called Radio Free Northwest, for September 11th, 2014. To download this and other episodes of Radio Free Northwest, go to http://www.northwestfront.org 

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This is Harold Covington speaking. This will be a short episode of Radio Free Northwest, devoted entirely to the murder of our friend and comrade Edgar James Steele, who died in the Victorville fortress prison on September the fourth.

No one at Victorville or in the federal government even bothered to inform Steele’s family that he was gone; the first his wife Cyndi Steele knew of it was when she got a phone call from some mortuary down there in California asking what she wanted them to do with her husband’s dead body.

In June of 2010, north Idaho Attorney Edgar J. Steele was arrested by the FBI on false charges of allegedly hiring a hit man to murder his wife and mother in law. I might point out here that neither of the women who were Steele’s purported victims ever believed him to be guilty of this charge, and both supported him publicly, Cyndi’s mother until her own death from natural causes and Cyndi herself to this day.

The alleged would-be assassin was a man named Larry Fairfax, an FBI informer who was inserted into Steele’s home posing as a handyman in order to spy on the Steele family, until for reasons as yet unclear, Fairfax’s mission ceased to become one of mere intelligence gathering and became one of perjury and personal destruction.

While he was working there, Fairfax proceeded to help himself to large stashes of silver coins and bullion that the Steeles were keeping on their property in anticipation of a Federal Reserve currency crash brought on by Barack Obama’s incompetence. The final whereabouts of that silver seems to be something of a mystery. Apparently the FBI allowed Fairfax to keep at least some of it as a kind of bonus or reparations for the annoyance and inconvenience of having to spend a few months in county jail and then under house arrest with an ankle bracelet in the service of the Bureau.

A short time after her husband was arrested, Edgar’s wife Cyndi Steele pulled into a local service station for an oil change, and the mechanic found a bomb wired to the underside of her car. Not knowing that the bomb was part of an FBI fabrication against her husband, the local police called a rival federal agency, the BATFE, who refused to honor the FBI’s assurance that Larry Fairfax was one of their CIs and proceeded to arrest and charge Fairfax publicly for manufacturing and transporting the explosive device, much to the Bureau’s extreme embarrassment.

The bomb was clearly intended to go off and kill Cyndi in order to bolster the Bureau’s case against Edgar and also remove a potential fly in the ointment, since Cyndi was already balking at the official version of events and refusing to go along and play the victim.

Now the dictatorship faced the additional complication and embarrassment of having their informer publicly exposed by the ATF who refused to carry the FBI’s water on this one. Fairfax’s role in the case was eventually laughed off by the courts with a 27-month sentence, none of it in actual prison. Fairfax was moved from county jail to house arrest five months after Edgar Steele was sentenced to 50 years. Today he is a free man with a nice chunk of change in his pocket, some of it from the silver he stole from Edgar Steele.

There has been a lot of speculation in our circles as to exactly why Edgar Steele was targeted by the dictatorship at this particular time. He had been a thorn in the régime’s side for many years, defending such politically incorrect clients as Richard Butler of the Aryan Nations, the brutally persecuted Christine family, and Lonny Rae, the Idaho man who was so impolitic as to say nigger in public while defending his wife against being assaulted—by a nigger.

But Steele hadn’t handled any high-profile cases for several years and he was recovering from extremely serious open-heart surgery for a burst aneurism that almost killed him. He had spoken in public about possibly running for governor of Idaho on a third-party ticket, but his heart attack pretty much put paid to that.

The most common theory about why Edgar Steele was targeted for victimization and personal destruction by the dictatorship is simple: he pissed somebody off, probably our nigger attorney general Eric Holder. Steele mentioned in one of his Nickel Rant podcasts that when the current dictator was immaculated, he sent copies of his book Defensive Racism to both Barry himself and Eric Holder. Maybe that was what did it.

But there are other theories as to why the FBI chose to fabricate a case against Edgar Steele from the ground up. One is that the people whom Edgar pissed off were his fellow lawyers who didn’t like the way he passionately and zealously defended his clients, especially Richard Butler and the Christines. They considered that by actually trying to get his clients out of the clutches of the machine, Edgar Steele betrayed his class.

Another theory is that since the death of Richard Butler and the collapse of Aryan Nations the Spokane FBI office was being downsized, since the so-called threat of quote-unquote “white supremacist terror” was gone now. The agents who for years had an easy gig surveilling and harassing Aryan Nations and following carloads of drunken Skinheads up and down dirt roads now faced being transferred to large urban areas with significant Muslim populations like New Jersey or New York or Atlanta or even, God help them, Detroit.

The FBI guys didn’t want to leave nice, White Eastern Washington and north Idaho with the clean air and good public schools and absence of any genuine crime, and take their families to some urban American hellhole full of niggers and wogs where they might actually come up against real criminals who might hurt them.

And so the FBI in Spokane fabricated a so-called domestic terrorism case against a 65 year-old man with a serious heart condition, a nice soft target, to show the bean-counters in the J. Edgar Building back in D.C. that there was still wicked evil terrorism in Spokane and they really do need to keep that grossly overstaffed field office intact so the agents there can fritter away their days in nice relaxing cubicles, drinking coffee and reading other people’s e-mails and listening to Radio Free Northwest every week.

But I myself have another theory as to why the dictatorship did this to Edgar Steele, fabricated a case from the ground up simply to get rid of someone somebody didn’t like.

I think they did it because they could, and because they wanted to demonstrate to us all that they could. I think this whole thing was a ghastly experiment on the part of the FBI and the United States Attorney’s office, with full sanction from the top, to see just how much they could get away with in climate of the early 21st century in Obama’s Amurrica.

The answer is, anything and everything. I think the FBI and the badly misnamed Justice Department wanted to see if it was possible in the United States to basically dispense with the law and the Constitution altogether and essentially intern people like they do in Third World countries. The answer is yes, it is. Edgar Steele was not a federal felon, he was a kind of latter-day Count of Monte Cristo.

The trial of Edgar Steele in 2011 was an unmitigated horror show. The basis of Edgar Steele’s conviction was audio files fabricated by FBI technicians, supposedly discussions between himself and Fairfax about murder for hire. These conversations appear even to a layman who first hears them to sound strained, stilted, unnatural, and obviously doctored at the key points and phrases. The Steele tapes were not only forgeries, apparently they weren’t even very good ones.

At Steele’s trial two international audio engineering experts who were prepared to state categorically for the record that the tapes were fraudulent were barred from testifying by a corrupt judge; the jury was never allowed to hear evidence which clearly proved Edgar Steele’s innocence.

The situation wasn’t helped by the fact that Steele’s first attorney, a federal public defender named Roger Peven, was a raging alcoholic who at the time was being sued by three members of his own legal staff for various acts of drunken misconduct. Steele’s second defense attorney, a man named Robert McAllister, on whom he and his wife Cyndi expended most of their life’s savings, turned out to be facing disbarment for embezzling his clients’ money and was in fact disbarred only weeks after Steele’s conviction.

Many suspect that this second attorney may have struck a deal with the dictatorship to keep himself out of prison by deliberately taking a dive in the courtroom and bungling Steele’s defense. If so, it didn’t work. The dictator’s servants broke their word, surprise, surprise. In September of 2012 the 62 year-old McAllister was sentenced to six years for fraud. Wow, those feds are really great at sending elderly White men in their 60s to prison, ain’t they? No strong-jawed and steely-eyed Aaron Hotchners or Jack Bauers here. In real life the Bureau really loves those soft targets: not drug dealers or serial killers or child molestors, no no no, that’s too much like work. No, give them a sick elderly White man with no money for a lawyer for a target any day.

But I suppose there is some comfort in hoping that the bent brief will possibly die in the same prison cell as the client he betrayed. Interestingly enough, McAllister himself was a former United States attorney and prosecutor, which gives you some idea of the typical moral character of the people in the federal judiciary.

For whatever reason, McAllister’s performance in the courtroom was lackluster to say the least, and he refused to put his client on the witness stand, which always looks very bad to a jury. Needless to say the attorney’s own perilous legal situation was never explained to either Ed or Cyndi Steele while the trial was going on.

Apparently even something worse was happening. I was not able to attend the trial myself, but I have spoken to persons who were present in the courtroom who told me that Ed Steele quote-unquote “looked like a zombie”, confused and disoriented, and he seemed completely incoherent and disconnected from what was going on around him. The consensus of opinion among those who actually saw him on those days was that Steele was drugged on orders from someone in the federal government to make sure he was incapable of assisting in his own defense or even understanding what was happening to him.

On May 5th, 2011, absent the expert testimony that could have proven his innocence, Edgar Steele was found guilty of four criminal charges against him. He was eventually sentenced to 50 years. Being 66 years old, it was understood by all that this was a death sentence.

The United States penal system maintains several special medical and geriatric units at places like Springfield, Missouri and Fort Devens, Massachusetts to care for federal prisoners who are extremely sick or elderly but who caught one of these absurd 999-year sentences and who will never be released.

In view of his age and the perilous state of his health, Edgar Steele should have been sent to one of these. Instead he was sent to the heavily fortified maximum-security Victorville facility in California, which is well known throughout the federal system as a kind of toilet where human beings are flushed away. Among other things, the water supply in the prison is known to be contaminated with carcinogens and toxic waste, which facilitates the decline in health of those federal prisoners whom the government wishes to hear no more of. Victorville is notorious as an end-of-the-line destination. Once the gates clang shut there, no one leaves except in a body bag. Edgar Steele was sent there to die, and on September fourth, he did.

    

During the years he was there, Edgar Steele was held virtually incommunicado. My understanding is that his wife Cyndi was never allowed to visit him and never saw her husband again once the U.S. Marshals dragged him out of the courtroom that day in 2011, although that may not be totally correct and if it’s not I would appreciate someone close to the family letting me know.

I do know that Edgar’s incoming mail was systematically withheld and his outgoing mail seems mostly to have just disappeared; I myself received only one brief note from Ed during his entire confinement in Victorville, although I sent him well over a hundred pieces of mail including publications and personal letters during the time he was in Victorville, none of which he ever acknowledged and which seem to have vanished. All my mail to Edgar is right now probably sitting in some plastic tub in the basement of some government warehouse someplace.

The one brief note I myself received last autumn, via another Victorville inmate, promised further communication, but I never got anything else. I should say, however, that that brief note was coherent and to the point. However bad his physical health was, as of about ten months ago Ed’s mind was still clear.

As proof, about that time the Northwest Front published an interview with Steele which was conducted and smuggled out of the prison by another inmate. This is the last communication Ed had with the world, and it clearly shows that his mind was still as sharp and incisive as ever.

Now, this other inmate was a racially aware comrade of ours who was transferred into Victorville and who appointed himself to watch Edgar’s back, and he needed it. We know now that Edgar was assaulted at least once when he was in prison, presumably by non-White inmates, and that about a year ago he had another cardiac incident of some kind which required hospitalization, insofar as the filthy and poorly equipped prison infirmary could be considered a hospital. No effort was made to transfer him to Springfield or another medical facility; he wasn’t sent to Victorville to heal, he was sent there to die.

In early July this other inmate who had been looking out for Edgar was suddenly transferred out of Victorville and shipped across the country to West Virginia, allegedly because he was needed as a witness in some stabbing incident at one of his previous institutions.

The witness thing appears to have been bogus, but it got him away from Edgar Steele’s side for almost six weeks, which seems to have been the real reason for the transfer. What happened to Edgar Steele during those six weeks his friend and protector was gone from his side we have no way of knowing, but we know something bad happened.

When this inmate was finally returned to Victorville in late August  he found Edgar in a very bad way. He wrote me a letter marked urgent telling me what was happening and somehow or other that letter got out of the prison okay; I received it on the very day that Edgar died. According to our imprisoned comrade, on his return he found Edgar was filthy, unshaven, and he had lost weight to the point where he weighed maybe eighty pounds and looked skeletal, almost like the Crypt-Keeper.

Worse, Edgar was now completely out of his mind. He was hallucinating and ranting and raving incoherently and “attacking” his cell mates, although obviously in his condition he couldn’t do any damage. Our inmate correspondent, who saw him on or about September 1st, tells me flat out that Edgar was clearly being drugged or poisoned, and this man has been inside long enough to know what he’s talking about on that point, since the drugging of inmates is a common occurrence in the prison-industrial slave labor system.

As near as I can figure, on the night of September 1st, Edgar was dragged out of his cell by the guards and no one ever saw him alive after that. So far as I am aware, as of today, September 9th, Cyndi still has not received any official notification from any one of the dictator’s servants that her husband is dead or any kind of death certificate. I assume eventually they’ll give her something, but when they do it will be lying crap.

I wish I could tell you this is the first time I have had to sum up the life of a man or a woman who served the 14 Words and who perished in the attempt, but it isn’t. I wish I could tell you this was the last time, but it won’t be.

The Goat Dancers have in the past accused me of ambulance-chasing the Edgar Steele case. To hell with them. What they think about anything doesn’t matter. It is true that when he was out in the world Edgar and I didn’t get along all that well, in fact he once threatened to quote “crush me like a bug.” But middle-aged adolescent squabbling is unfortunately part of our wee little Movement’s character profile and over the years I have finally learned enough wisdom to accept this fact and disregard it.

As far as I am concerned the moment Obama’s gun thugs clapped those handcuffs on his wrists all was forgiven and forgotten, and Ed has had my unwavering support since then, for all the good it did him.

It is also true that in his personal world view as publicly expressed, Edgar Steele never quite made that last, crucial leap from some vague all-America, Bring-Back-The-Brady-Bunch idea to a public acceptance of the coming Soviet-style breakup of the North American continent and advocacy of a free and sovereign Homeland for our people here in the Pacific Northwest. Many people of his generation and mine will never be able to shake off the memory of the time they grew up in, an almost golden age compared to what we live in today. It would have been even harder for someone like Ed who was eight years older than I am and who actually remembered the Fifties as such; I was a child and frankly at this remove, everything before the first Star Trek series is pretty much a blur.

But nonetheless, I consider Edgar Steele to be a martyr for the 14 Words and for the Northwest American Republic, because he was a Northwester who was murdered by the dictatorship for fear of his words and deeds, and in my mind that qualifies him for inclusion in the roster of those who have given their lives for our new nation’s freedom, such as Bob Mathews, Sam and Vicky Weaver, Gordon Kahl, Jeff Hughes, and others.

         

I’m severely hampered here, because I am unable to say publicly what really should be said. The First Amendment, the right to express any opinion and to do so without punishment and retaliation by those in power, the freedom of speech and of thought which was once this country’s crowning glory, is no more. In Obama’s America, White men who say or write things which the regime or certain politically protected minorities find disagreeable are now subject to harassment, legal persecution, and in Edgar Steele’s case, to judicial murder.

It’s been like that for quite some time, of course, but the murder of Edgar Steele has finally stripped the last veneer of legality and legitimacy off the criminal power structure that rules us. It cannot be denied or ignored any longer that the government of the United States is no longer a legitimate or lawful government, for they have finally violated their own laws and their own standards so egregiously that the social contract that allows them to rule us is broken for all time. The United States of America is a failed state, and from now on its government is just another gang of thugs, no different from the Crips and the Bloods, only better dressed and better armed.

Nor are they particularly brave or manly thugs. America is a coward that shows its prowess by poisoning helpless old men of 69 in wheelchairs. As an aside, I’m not going to be running any more of my Who Guards The Guardians? segments on this show for a while. We have just received a clear and sharp reminder that none of this is at all funny. The FBI and DHS and BATF and other alphabet soup agency employees are not law enforcement officers, they are hired murderers, and they’re not funny, they are sickening and repugnant to basic human decency.

The United States and its law enforcement thugs are really good at killing old men, women, and children, from Vicky Weaver shot down in her doorway while holding her infant daughter to children incinerated at Waco like some ghastly ancient human sacrifice. You know, I can’t help but wonder just how big and bad and tough all these FBI and BATF and U.S. Marshals would be if they ever came up against grown men, sober and unafraid and not sleeping in their beds, who had the skill and the courage to shoot back. In fact, I’ve written several novels on the subject. America is not an eagle. America is a rat, with a yellow stripe running down its back.

They need not worry, though. We who remain will not deal with the judicial murder of Edgar Steele as we should, as upright and honorable free men should, as our own ancestors not too long ago would have done. We will not deal with the butchery of our friend as decency and justice demand because we lack the will, the self-respect, and above all we lack the courage to do so. All we will do while Edgar Steele is dumped into his grave like a discarded crushed beer can is to whine and wring our hands on the internet. No one will hear us, and no one would listen to us if they did, because our craven acquiescence to this monstrous act renders us unworthy of notice.

So be it. One has to play the hand one is dealt.

But will it always be like that? Will we Whiteboys always be such craven dogs that we never lift a hand to defend ourselves from the Beast or to avenge our murdered brothers and sisters and fathers and children? That’s the long-term bet that the United States of America has got everything riding on; the idea that we will be forever quiet, respectful, and obedient, and we will weep for our butchered loved ones quietly and out of sight and hearing.

Edgar Steele used to end all of his articles on his Conspiracy Penpal site with his signature phrase, “New America: An Idea Whose Time Has Come.”

He was wrong. The solution is not a New America, Ed. It’s No America.

America must end. It is a diseased, leprous thing. There is no health or goodness in it, there hasn’t been for a long time, and the ultimate interest of all humanity lies in this rotting and poisonous monster called the United States being removed from the earth. All of us know in our souls what has to be done. The problem is that out of our own weakness and cowardice, we’re just sitting around waiting for some one else to do it.

But that won’t last forever. Human nature cannot be suppressed forever by politically correct social engineering or the threat of dying like Edgar Steele in a prison cell. Eventually someone will do what has to be done and expunge the United States and the worms and grubs who serve it from the earth.

Tyranny such as this inevitably becomes intolerable, and at some point even the most supine and cowardly of people will reach a point where the chains of fear and intimidation and brainwashing and bullying will not hold, and they find that they would rather die themselves than live one more day like this.

The United States murdered Edgar Steele. For now, and for a long time to come, his death will remain unavenged, and we need to accept that. We simply don’t have what it takes. There is one thing and one thing alone that we can do for him: we can make sure that his work continues to be read, his podcasts are still listened to, and that his name is never forgotten. The same thing that you will all one day be called upon to do for me.

The Americans are fools: they have taken from us the lives of our martyred dead, but they have left us their names and their memories, and from those memories and from that martyred blood will spring a force that someday will unleash the fury of hell upon the vile tyranny that has done this, and on all those who have served that tyranny for a monthly direct deposit paycheck into their bank accounts.

Someday, at the hand of people most likely as yet unknown, the filth that is America will be purged from the world with fire and sword. The darkness that covers this land will be lifted, and a new generation of White children will be born and grow strong in the light.

And when they do, they will remember the name of Edgar Steele.

One of our comrades suggested that as part of my comments today I play the song by Saga, Sleep Well, My Brother. I already had a copy of that song, and I like it. It is a perfect funeral or memorial song, mournful, soft and sweet,

But at times like these we don’t need to be soft and sweet. We need to be strong and if we are still too weak and confused and timid and frightened to seize justice and vengeance for our martyred dead, at least we should have the balls to sing about it. That’s what the Irish mostly did for 800 years; when they couldn’t actually fight, which was most of the time, they sang. And eventually they won.

In the year 1798 there was another of the long series of hopeless rebellions in Ireland, a revolt which was eventually defeated and suppressed by the British crown with even more than their usual brutality. One of the leaders of the 1798 Rebellion was a man from the north of Ireland named Roger McCorley. Not much is known about him except that he was captured and judicially murdered by the British, but he left behind him one of the most magnificent epitaphs that any man has ever achieved.

Some of you may recall that this is the song I played when Jeff Hughes was murdered some years ago, and I think it needs to be the official song we play in the Northwest when one of our comrades dies at the hand of the racial enemy, under any circumstances. I am afraid we are going to be hearing this song very often in the future.

This time it’s for our friend, our elder, and our comrade Edgar Steele. Remember him always.

[Roddy McCorley]