Stephen Lendman

Reporting his death, AP said:

"Former Black Panther Party leader Elmer 'Geronimo' Pratt" died at age 63 in a small (Tanzania village) "where he had lived for at least half a decade, a friend of Pratt's in Arusha, former Black Panther Pete O'Neal, said."

He lived a peaceful life in Tanzania, O'Neal explained, adding:

"He's my hero. He was and will continue to be. Geronimo was a symbol of steadfast resistance against all (he) considered wrong and improper. His whole life was dedicated to standing opposition to oppression and exploitation....He gave all that he had and his life, I believe, struggling, trying to help people lift themselves up."

His lawyer and longtime friend, Stuart Hanlon, who spent years working for his release, also announced his death, saying:

"What happened to him is the horror story of the United States. This became a microcosm of when the government decides what's politically right or wrong. The COINTELPRO program was awful. He became a symbol for what they did."

He had southern, rural roots, and hardworking parents who sent all their kids to college.

"He (went) to the military, (fought) and (was awarded two Bronze Stars, a Silver Star, and two Purple Hearts) in Vietnam, (came) home, (and became) a football star in college. That would be an American hero. It was different because he was black and he became a Panther and then the road went the wrong way."

Calling Pratt one of his closest friends, Hanlon said his case "defined me as a lawyer."

David Hilliard helped recruit Pratt to provide leadership for the Los Angeles Panther chapter.

"He symbolized the best human spirit," he said. "His spirit of endurance, his strength, his service to his people. He (was) very positive and a real example for young people who want to look into the direction of Che Guevara, Malcolm X and the leader of our party, Huey P. Newton. He (was) one of the true heros of our era. He dedicated his life to (serve) his people. There is nothing more honorable than that."

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Andrew Jeromski
The Fifth Dentist

“You see William, it’s a practical decision. “In truth, it would probably utterly ruin your family, your survival would,” added the doctor.

The sun was starting to slip behind the rooftops of the boulevard when William took his leave of the company and walked outside through the silt-clouded glass door.

“A fine Friday indeed,” he thought to himself, checking the time on his watch.

Yet another relentless week of back-breaking labor behind him, William was in high spirits. There was coin in the pocket and beer in the belly and the earthly cares of a day-laborer seemed as far away as the opulence of Princes and Kings. The streets were cast in evening’s artificial glow: it was always more pleasant to William on Fridays.

He thrust both his hands into the pockets of his worn black woolen great-coat, and with the right began probing for his tobacco pouch. Locating his prize, he began to roll a small pinch of the dark leaf into a crudely formed cigarette as he casually sauntered towards the drowsy sanctum of the terribly small and crowded flat he shared with his wife and young son.

He whistled a tune that they sang earlier that evening amidst the end-week revelry of his fellow day-laborers; it was a jaunty tune, and William–safe within the unassailable walls of recent imbibery–made it even more so with his treatment.

There were many men out of work, and it was not at all unusual to happen upon those who had taken to soliciting charity from the steady flow of foot traffic that passed along the busier streets. There were laws against this sort of thing of course, for the benefit of the wealthier classes, but for the most part, if a vagrant shown no outward signs of mental instability and kept his genitals out of view, he could expect a relatively small and infrequent amount of trouble from the local constabulary.

William passed by them all the time. Sometimes he dropped a coin or two into their cups, other times he didn’t. He never spoke to them.

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