A very good friend of mine passed away just recently from cancer and the treatment for it. Very few, in the scheme of worldly things would ever know his name. His name was Paul Reithmayer Jr., and please excuse me I feel I must say a few words about him because well, he deserves it. There’s a lot of comments on this site regarding people not doing anything about the fuk’d up shit that goes on in this country. That cannot be said about my friend Paul. He risked life and limb on his own time and dime for us for nearly thirty years along the Arizona-Mexico border. Born and raised in Pennsylvania with strong German roots he came to Arizona in the early seventies on a chopped ‘46 Harley Knucklehead. He fell in love with the desert. He opened a bike building business and in his spare time traveled every backroad of Arizona he could find. He loved the border area the most. When he saw the damage that illegal aliens were doing to the borderlands he did something about it. He armed up, geared up, wheeled up and went after those motherfuckers. He’s the only guy I know that would ever set up a hammock to camp for days on end, on the border right in the middle of a known drug trafficking area all by himself. He worked with many of the groups that came down to do the same, but mostly found them to be just guys playing army and dicking around too much or just doing it to scam money from donations. He preferred to go by himself or with one or two other like minded guys serious about fucking up the drug and human smuggling trade that has robbed us of our own lands down there and caused havoc with drug use in the US. He was shot at, hunted and talked about by mountain top scouts who guide the smugglers via radio and satellite phones. The libtard and mexican churches of southern Arizona would set up water stations for the illegals. They publicly scolded and threatened him for being what he became known for down there, “The Slasher”. He would stab holes in the tanks, jugs, bottles or whatever they used when he came upon them. When they would confront him he would tell them to fuck off. He never harmed anyone he caught. He’d simply take their shoes, give aid if needed and called Border Patrol to come get them. He intercepted pounds and pounds of weed, heroin, meth over the years and lately fentanyl. He reported the locations of large groups to the BP. He spent his own money to do this. He wore out two Jeep Cherokee trucks. Gallons of fuel, tires and repairs were spent doing something by this man. He ended up pretty much dead broke, living in a small trailer behind a friends house near the border. He was an excellent mechanic and when he earned enough money here and there, he’d head for the border be it winter, spring, summer or fall. He wrote to all the assholes in government, he recorded with his camera thousands of pictures of the trails down desert washes literally strewn with trash for miles along the border. He took a lot of flak and death threats on social media for his actions. He was labeled a racist, but he was probably the least racist man I know. He just cared about this country and he went out and proved it every chance he could, heart, soul and bankroll. Having been on the border with him, let me tell you, it’s more than a little unnerving to lay your head down at night and go to sleep. I don’t think he ever thought twice about it. Thank you Paul Reithmayer Jr for all you did along the border. For all the help with my knucklehead. For all the good times out in the desert exploring mines, historical sites and looking at and enjoying God’s Creation that be the beautiful borderlands of Arizona. Thank you for being a most excellent friend, brother and one true American Warrior. See you on the other side my friend.