- James W. von Brunn holds a B.S. Journalism degree from
a mid-Western university where he was president of SAE and played varsity
football. During WWII he served as PT-Boat captain, Lt. USNR, receiving
a Commendation and four battle stars. For twenty years he was an advertising
executive and film-producer in New York City. He is a member of Mensa,
the high-IQ society. In 1981 Von Brunn attempted to place the treasonous
Federal Reserve Board of Governors under legal, non-violent, citizens arrest.
He was tried in a Washington, D.C. Superior Court; convicted and sentenced
to prison for eleven years. The Court of Appeals denied his appeal. He
served 6.5 years in federal prison.
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- "And so, on December 7, 1981, a bright, crisp morning
James Wenneker von Brunn visited the Federal Reserve Building on Constitution
Ave., across from the Washington Monument, Washington D.C. I had cased
the building twice before, and talked at length with one of the guards,
a retire U.S. Marine. I posed as a freelance newspaper reporter. I wore
a trench-coat with a camera-case slung over my shoulder. . The Marine ("HARRY"))
guided me through the Board Room, and Paul Volcker's office; there I met
his secretary, a smartly dressed middle-aged lady with gray hair. My objective
was to arrest Volcker and the FED Brd of Governors.
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- I intended to bind their hands, and persuade them to
appear on Television. There, on camera, I intended to read to the American
public my indictment of these treasonous liars. If I survived I expected
to be arrested, then stand trial before a jury of my peers. Back then I
had faith in our system of justice. The Federal Reserve building fronts
on Constitution Avenue, however, the main entrance, the north side, is
at the rear. Here broad steps lead to a bank of impressive brass-encased
doors, plus one turnstile doorway. Upon entering the building one faces
a wide north to south marble corridor. Since my visit they installed security
devices. Three (?) elevators stand along the west wall. A uniformed Negro
security-guard, to the east (my left), seated behind a desk, required visitors
to log-in. Attached to the desk was a closed cabinet containing, I had
been informed, riot weapons. Two hall-ways, each running east to west,
traverse the length of the building; they intersect the main corridor.
Two security guards patrol them. Between the halls two flights of marble
stairs along the west wall rise to the second level balcony, overlooking
the main corridor. Harry (the ex-Marine) is stationed there - He protects
the Board Members' offices and the Board of Governors conference room.
He too has a desk-cabinet with riot arms. On the first floor, opposite
the balcony is a waiting room. A guard there directs visitors to their
destinations, makes telephone calls to confirm appointments, etc. I waited
there with a beautiful young brunette applying for her first job. She wore
a luxurious sable coat, which I helped her remove when she complained it
was too warm. I didn't dare unbutton my trench coat, which concealed a
sawed-off shot gun, a .38- police-special, a Bowie knife and a carpenters-apron
containing cord, etc. Later the visiting-room guard said he thought I looked
"suspicious." The camera-case slung over my shoulder now contained
a phony bomb, which, it appeared, could be activated by a phony detonator
(range finder). As I didn't want to kill anyone I carried no ammunition.
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- The previous day I re-confirmed that the Board would
meet and Harry would NOT be on duty. However, upon arrival I saw that Harry
was on the balcony, his partner had called in sick. Such are the fickle
uncertainties of Fate. The ladies on the balcony decorating the Christmas
tree departed, to my great relief, giggling and rosy-cheeked. About an
hour had passed since my arrival and visitor traffic was increasing. Still
my name had not been called to "photograph" the 2nd floor. I
knew I had to make a move. Fortuitously, the waiting-room guard left his
station to escort the beautiful lady. Now was the time. I walked down the
corridor to the Negro guard at the front entrance, shoved the .38 in his
gut, and escorted him out of the building. A woman awaiting an elevator
suspected nothing. Outside I told the Negro to walk North and keep walking.
He was a tall-lanky dude with red-veined cornea. I returned to the lobby,
waited briefly then returned outside. The Negro guard disobeyed and was
walking east toward the police station. I warned him that cross-hairs were
zeroed in on his spine. One more step and my "comrade' in the bushes
would kill him. Fortunately there were no pedestrians to overhear. The
Negro turned and walked north. I never saw him again. At the trial the
black attorney praised him for his courage.
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- Back inside I walked down the corridor and up the marble
stairs to the balcony. There, five or six men and women were conversing
before the closed board room doors. Harry approached me, testily. I didn't
call you, sir. Go back downstairs and wait. I displayed the .38, keeping
the barrel lowered to he couldn't see the empty cylinders. Sotto voce,
escort me to Volcker's office. Now. I'm going to arrest him. No one will
be hurt. Get your ass moving. I ain't going nowhere, says the ex-Marine.
The talking group disappeared down the hall. In that case Harry I'm going
to kill you. OK, kill me. Quiet, keep your voice down. Where to you want
it Harry, gut or head ? Do it, Harry says. Harry, you dumb bastard. Don't
you know the FED killed your buddies in Nam? I ain't leaving. Harry, you
can help America. Expose the g-d- Jews. Kill me, he says. One last time,
I shoved the gun in his gut. NO, says he. Never expect a U.S. Marine to
leave his post. I handed my revolver to him (later, in court, he testified
that he jumped me and wrestled the weapon from me. Good man, Harry). I
removed my trench-coat, went to the ante-room and sat down. A regiment
of armed cops arrived. I told them to note that I had no ammo. They handcuffed
me. A bomb-detection-team arrived to inspect the camera-case "bomb."
Soon I was hustled into a police van. There were iron benches and nothing
to hold on to. It was dark inside. I was given a "joy-ride,"
bounced around like dice in a shaker: slammed from wall to wall, as the
driver hit every curb and pothole that he could find. Hard on the crotch.
My trousers were soaked with blood.
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- The first night was spent in a two man cell with a white
druggie. The floor covered with vomit. The only white man I saw in the
DC jail, police and inmates were ALL black. My Parole Officer, appointed
by the Court, was a Jew rabbi. I'm tempted to recount my prison experiences
-- which included fights, suicides, murders, sympathetic nurses, librarians
and purloined legal documents, but that is another story probably never
to be told. No time.
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- Suddenly, out of nowhere, a distinguished gentleman,
Elgin Groseclose (America's Money Machine) entered the fray. The 83-year
old monetary expert had appeared in that capacity before Congress on numerous
occasions. He telephoned me, introduced himself, set a date to meet with
him in his D.C. office. He was slim, tall, nattily attired, with white
hair and kindly eyes. After an exploratory conversation during which I
stated my case, he volunteered to testify in my behalf. He refused to meet
with me again. And would not assist in the preparation of my case. He sought
impartiality. A few months later he died of cancer
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- Meanwhile, I was contacted by a U.S. Senator (who must
remain nameless), who he offered me a plea bargain (repeated by Harriet
Rosen Taylor, JEW judge, in private on the eve of the trial): If I would
plead guilty to one count of gun violation (I had no DC permit) they would
not prosecute me for Robbery, Burglary, Attempted Kidnapping etc. I refused.
I wanted the trial broadcast to the American public. I was confident in
the validity of my charges. I could find NO attorney willing to take on
my case, including right-wing barristers. ACLU demurred because weapons
were involved. I decided to appear pro se, in my own behalf. The government
appointed an attorney, who it turned out was half Jew and was a member
of NAACP. He was to guide me through courtroom protocol. However, when
the prosecutor objected to my every move it became clear they would not
allow me to appear pro se. So the half-JEW presented most of the arguments
while Groseclose and I presented the FACTS.
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- I sought to subpoena Zbigniew Brzezinski, Security Advisor
to Jimmy Carter; and Paul Volcker, Chairman of the Fed Brd of Governors.
Brz, in his book Between Two Worlds, states that Marxism is the wave of
the future, the USA must embrace it. Also Brz was appointed by David Rockefeller
to organize and head the secretive Trilateral Commission, a One World organization.
Paul Volcker was instrumental in floating FED loans to the USSR, to build
truck plants, steel mills, etc. which produced war materials shipped to
Korea and Nam, killing U.S. military personnel. The judge would not allow
the traitors to be subpoenaed. Elgin Groseclose gave testimony extremely
damaging to the FED. He supported my charges of FED treason; he testified
that Congress was self-serving, ignorant and frightened; therefore, the
FED could be removed ONLY BY FORCE. It is a tragedy that Elgin's testimony
never saw the light of day.
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- The courtroom was filled with Blacks and Jews. When the
prosecution made a point they cheered; conversely I was booed. Judge Harriet
Rosen Taylor made little effort to quiet them. The prosecution team was
led by a JEW, but Nixon, a Negro, tried the case. They decided, early on,
that their case was to be based on my racism. The racist charge was predicated
on a 1000-word essay that I had intended to read on TV during the FED "action."
My MS, now available at www.holywesternempire.org, stemmed from that essay.
There are many notable quotes therein that offend Negroes and Jews -- including
several by Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln. The jury and all alternates
were Negroes, with one exception, a diminutive, gray-haired White lady
sitting between two Negro female behemoths. Almost all the Negroes had
served jail sentences, and many black ex-felons were rejected at voir dire.
One black male slept through most of the trial.
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- A unanimous verdict was handed down. I was guilty on
all counts, and sentenced to 11 years. Elgin Groseclose visited me several
days later in the City Jail. He affectionately patted the glass that separated
us. There were tears in his eyes. An attractive blonde seated nearby was
visiting her Negro husband. It was a most depressing scenario. 6 months
later I was sent to Springfield, MO, State Pen for psychiatric examination.
I was declared sane "without even a hint" of paranoia, etc. However,
I received a low IQ. The tests were taken in pencil, and became part of
my prison records. This bothered me. Upon arriving at Ray Brook, FCI, I
arranged to take Mensa tests (oral and written). A prison psychologist
was sent in to administer them. He had a lisp! Even so, much to my surprise,
I was admitted to Mensa. Meanwhile. My preparations for Appeal went badly.
The court appointed another attorney who didn't even have an office! By
the time his brief reached me in prison, the Appeal had been adjudicated.
Ben Wilson, my Easton, Md, attorney, was hesitant but finally agreed appear
in my behalf before the Court of Appeals. Ben had Jew clients. He received
Admiral Crommelin's plea in my behalf; painstakingly written in longhand.
The Admiral asked Ben to review it, have it typed in legal format, and
then present it before my court appointed attorney made his Appeal. Meanwhile,
Adm. Crommelin had personally met with Pres. Ronald Reagan in my behalf
(I have a photograph of John and the President). The day of the Appeal,
Ben and my sister appeared at court. The three appellate judges were Black,
Jew and White. Sadly, Ben had suffered cold feet. For this Crommelin holds
Ben Wilson in utter contempt. Ben had not prepared Crommelin's appeal and
he arranged to arrive in court after the decision was handed down, i.e.,
Guilty on all counts.
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- James W. von Brunn Federal Prisoner #07128-016
- P.O.Box 904-H
- FCI Ray Brook, N.Y. 12977
- Federal Reserve Caper"
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- James von Brunn's Book 'Kill The Best Gentiles' (PDF)
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