Kinder, Gentler Skinheads

Inside Keystone United's "family-friendly" Leif Erikson Day celebration.

by Julia Harte

Evan M. Lopez

[ soft white power ]

Three-year-old Ariana is ecstatic. Stomping in time to the raucous Celtic tunes floating out across a stone pavilion in Franklin D. Roosevelt Park, she giggles and twirls in front of the musicians with another little girl. When she runs back to her mother, green eyes shining and blond ponytail slightly disheveled, she knows what to say to get attention: "I'm gonna fuck you up!"

The adults around her — tattooed men with shaved heads and combat boots, women in tight jeans with dyed hair and heavy makeup — guffaw. "The things kids say," sighs one man, grinning and rubbing her head.

Ariana is one of the youngest attendees of this Leif Erikson Day celebration, which has for the past three years been held by the Pennsylvania white supremacist group Keystone United on the Saturday nearest Oct. 9 to honor the Viking explorer. This year, the event began around noon with a 70-person march to the Schuylkill riverside statue of Icelandic explorer Thorfinn Karlsefni and ended around dusk with the live Celtic music in FDR Park.

The eight-year-old Keystone United — also known as the Keystone State Skinheads — wants to "break the stereotypes of skinheads being alcoholic thugs and violent, drug-addicted criminals," according to its Web site. KSS members resist the "hate group" label and resent the government and media outlets profiling them as such.

"We're defined as enemies of the state," says Eric, who adds that he's been physically attacked for his affiliation with the group. "It's an uphill battle."

The group simply believes that the white race is superior to all others, and that white people should not mingle with people of color — and really, what's so wrong about that?

Online, the group seeks to counter the sinister connotations the word "skinhead" conveys. Alongside posts blasting diversity training and media coverage of hate crimes, for instance, a KSS member urges readers to sign a petition against the "horrible procedure" of canine devocalization — cutting dogs' vocal chords to silence them. For the Leif Erikson celebration, the group's leadership instructed members not to wear anything they wouldn't wear to their grandmother's house. They had an image to project: not of angry, knuckle-dragging neo-Nazis, but of peaceful, family-friendly white people who just want to celebrate their heritage.

Cultural Stuff

As far as the other attendees know, I'm just someone who wants to celebrate the Aryan race. I didn't tell them that I was a reporter, or that their words and deeds would end up in print. (Thus, I'm for the most part using only participants' first names.) Going incognito seemed the only way to get the skinheads to talk candidly.

They're very welcoming. Chris and his girlfriend, Kristin, even gave me a ride. Along the way, Chris describes his Northeast Philadelphia neighborhood. "There's a lot of trash in Philly," he says, "of all sorts." He tells me of his efforts to clean up some of that "trash," including a recent fight with members of the Bloods gang: "They was tryin' to jump the guy across the street, and I wasn't gonna let 'em jump a white guy, so ... ."

Mark Stehle WHITE LIKE ME: About 70 skinheads and sympathizers gathered in FDR Park Oct. 10 to "promote our cultural stuff," as one described it.

As we speed toward the event, Chris delves into why it's so important: Reminders of white heritage are too rare in this day and age. "They're trying to take the old myths, like the Grimms' fairy-tale books, that we've grown up on for generations, away from our kids. So we want to, you know, promote our cultural stuff. That's what it's about — our generations," he explains.

A billboard promoting Breast Cancer Awareness Month catches his eye, and he breaks off. "Stupid sign," he scoffs. "I'm aware of breasts every day! I don't need a whole separate month for it. But I'll donate to 'em if it's for charity. Here, make this one bigger. Here, make that one bigger."

Heart of the Evil

As Chris' van pulls up to FDR Park and the three of us climb out, Eric, a young man with a curly ponytail, frozen smile, piercing blue eyes and a soft, unctuous voice, greets us. Chris remarks on the irony of holding the Leif Erikson Day concert in a park named after Roosevelt, "liberal, pro-communist that he was."

"His wife was worse," Eric chips in. "Her dream was to have white kids and black kids hold hands to the point where everyone was tan. Her dream was our annihilation. These are the people that dream that stuff up. I mean, they're the heart of the evil. Other people are just brainwashed."

This doesn't seem like a militaristic event, though it is perhaps the only festival in Philadelphia with promotional fliers advertising "Live Battle Demonstrations" in between "Poetry" and "Children's Crafts." (I saw no such demonstrations.) Folk tunes about Nordic warriors are sung in lieu of blaring hate-core — although a video documentary about the metal band Skrewdriver, Rock 'n Racism, is on sale at the merch table. At the march and concert, DrivenSno and Galvani, a comedy duo who share space on Stormfront Radio with such white supremacist luminaries as David Duke, wander through the black-clad crowd, bantering and greeting fans. A KSS member named Mike leads the crowd in a resounding "Heil Leif!"

To Chris, "celebratin' White People's Day" is an important part of white pride. "You can't fight for something you don't love, and you can't love something you've got no knowledge of," he says.

That Colored Dude

Earlier in the day, the group marched down Boathouse Row in Fairmount Park, bearing the flags of various northern European countries, to give speeches and lay a wreath at Thorfinn Karlsefni's statue. But they had some unwelcome guests. Several "anti-fascist" demonstrators, or "antifas" as they call themselves, stood behind the KSS leaders as they spoke. Most visible, clad in an orange polo and wielding a video camera, was activist (and African-American) Daryle Lamont Jenkins, who has spent the last decade crashing white supremacist events across the country. KSS members describe him as "that colored dude" who identifies white supremacists at rallies and outs them to their employers and the public.

"We'll call people out where they live, where they go to work, where they go to church," Jenkins tells me as the KSS group marches by. Jenkins was particularly excited with his film of pro fighter Doug Sonier, who was slated to fight in Maryland's first professional Mixed Martial Arts Championship on Oct. 24. Now that he has proof of Sonier's affiliation with KSS, Jenkins says, he'll try to get Sonier dropped from the ticket.

"The hell he'll get him off the ticket," Sonier's wife, Cathy, tells me as we leave the statue, where Jenkins, Sonier and a few other men on each side are spewing insults at each other. "I'll make sure he gets to fight," she vows. "That's how I feed my family, that fight."

(According to the Web site of event promoter Shogun Fights, Sonier is no longer listed on the fight card.) Cathy continues denouncing the antifas as the groups part ways. "We don't stop them from having a Martin Luther King Day, we don't stop them from having a Puerto Rican celebration, why can't they just let us have one day of our own?" she asks. "Just 'cause we want to keep with our own kind? My kids already have to go to an all-mixed school."

She's not the only one who finds Jenkins' presence offensive. "You're the most ignorant and bigoted person here today," a KSS youth with flame-colored hair tells Jenkins.

"Wait a minute," Jenkins replies incredulously. "You're talking about bigotry and you're working with this crowd? I got news for you. I agree — Leif Erikson was a great man. But he would not have anything to do with the likes of you."

"So what?" responds the youth. "It's a good celebration."

Fitting Spokesman

As Chris, Kristin and I prepare to leave around 6 p.m., a Drexel University student comes up to us and asks for a quick interview for the school paper. Chris gives him a few benign words about the cultural and family-oriented nature of the event. We move on toward the parking lot.

Then Chris says, almost contemplatively, "I'll read what he says about us. And if he tries to do something wrong, I'll" — here he pauses for effect, flexing his muscles and grinning at Kristin and me — "talk to him later." It occurs to me that KSS couldn't have found a more fitting spokesman if they tried.

(julia.harte@citypaper.net)