The father of Fulton County District Attorney Fani Willis took the stand on Friday, perhaps doing more harm than good as his daughter fights for her political life amid allegations of romantic nepotism, abu sing tax dollars, and lying under oath.
John Floyd III, a retired attorney and former member of the Black Panther Party, testified that he was “concerned” about Willis’ safety in the days after she charged former President Donald Trump and 18 co-defendants with felony racketeering. According to Floyd, he spent his days “Iooking out of every window” and “walking around the house” after reprobates allegedly spray-painted epithets on Willis’ home.
“Somebody sprayed the B-word and the N-word on the house, and I don’t think my daughter even knew about that,” he said at one point.
My Parents Abandoned Me and My Siblings When I Was 15 — Years Later They Came At My Door Smiling
I was fifteen when my world shattered. My parents, whom I had always relied on, were frantically packing their belongings right before my eyes. “We’ll call child services.
They’ll take you away,” my father’s voice echoed as he stuffed his suitcase with clothes and belongings. I stood there, paralyzed, watching the chaos unfold, unable to comprehend the reality of what was happening. My little brothers, James, aged six, and Lucas, aged five, clung to me, their wide eyes filled with confusion and fear.
When the door slammed shut behind them, leaving us behind, the weight of responsibility crashed down on me. I became a parent overnight, thrust into a world I was unprepared for. The days that followed were a blur of panic, desperation, and sorrow. I tried my best to care for my brothers, but it wasn’t long before we were found and placed into the foster care system. The heart-wrenching separation from James and Lucas left a void in my heart that nothing could fill.
Struggles of Survival
The years that followed were a grueling test of endurance and willpower. I bounced from one foster home to another, each one a new challenge. Some were kind, but others were harsh and unloving.
The streets became my sanctuary at times, a place where I learned the harsh realities of life. I scraped by, working odd jobs, doing whatever it took to survive. The pain of being separated from my brothers never left me. Every night, I would lie awake, wondering where they were, if they were safe, if they remembered me.
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