Jason Lee of Hollywood UnLocked racially profiled at MSY Airport-New Orleans day after inspiring and motivating fans at his book signing

Media mogul, entrepreneur, personality, and iHeart Radio’s Jason Lee was in Harvey, LA (a suburb of Jefferson Parish and a 20-minute drive from New Orleans) on Wednesday night for the release of his inspirational new book titled, GOD MUST HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT ME was racially profiled or as some call it traveling while black as he waited for his plane at the MSY Airport-New Orleans in Jefferson Parish. Yes, he went through TSA and was at on the concourse at the gate.

Jason traveled alone and did not hire security nor tour guide for his overnight visit. If you attended the book signing, you found Jason dressed in a red hoodie that read ”Stockton vs. Everyone” sitting in the back of the bookstore seated at a table with a display of his books waiting to be signed and taken home to be read by his awaiting fans.

This was no ordinary book signing, Jason came with a seeping pot of tea, and he poured the words of motivation and the power of God into his fans. There was No Mess, No Shade, or Gossip that came from his lips. Jason came to speak from the heart show the Jason that fills the pages of GOD MUST HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT ME. Not only did he leave fans inspired, but he had them believing that God had not forgotten about them either. He encouraged them to continue to push through dark difficulties guaranteeing them that if they do, they will be able to enjoy the sunshiny days that are to come.

This is why it angers me to know that he was treated in this manner. He bounced in, delivered a powerful message to his fans and bounced out. I’m not sure if he was here for a full 24hrs. Now had he been in New Orleans and with his entourage it’s quite possible they could have raised an eyebrow or two, but I do not believe that’s enough time to cause being tailed by Jefferson Parish Police. Which is why I believe it was racial profiling. His event was in Jefferson Parish and it’s possible they questioned ”Who is Jason Lee” just as Wendy Williams asked, why is he coming here and how is it that he accomplished all that he has. Even if he had a prison record a mile long the manner in which they approached him looks very intimidating and could have caused him stress. I wonder what Jefferson Parish Police Department to put Jason on their watch list and stalk him after he went past TSA and was at the gate? I hope they at least brought and read his book.

As a little girl, I recall hearing the names, Sheriff Harry Lee and David Duke. They were family members. I would soon learn who they were on a visit to my great grandmothers who lived in Kenner. I remember the instant look of fear on my Mom’s and Uncles face as we approached the line the separated Orleans Parish from Jefferson Parish. That line did more than separate and divided the cities; it also separated blacks from whites; it proved that segregation and racism still existed even now. I’m pretty sure you heard the stories of Katrina trying to get into Jefferson Parish to survive, but were greeted with deputies arm with guns who denied them entry. Many New Orleans rapper’s lyrics are filled with lines of being racially profiled by Jefferson Parish. I have witnessed with my innocent 7year old eyes a man being beaten by Jefferson Parish Officers, and that’s when I found out who Harry Lee and David Duke were. They were the KKK with badges and political power, which I grew up to despise and pray to God that my relatives and I would never cross paths with them, with my great grandparents having property out there it was unavoidable, and they were always stopped along Airline Highway. I wonder how many others continue to endure racial profiling in Jefferson Parish but remained silent due to fear?

I am emphasizing Jefferson Parish because everyone outside of the city of New Orleans seems to think that New Orleans is Louisiana, but it’s not. New Orleans is New Orleans, Louisiana and the cityline extends into New Orleans East and the Westbank of New Orleans which is Algiers anything beyond that is not New Orleans or Orleans Parish.

I hope this incidentdoesn’t affect his decision to come back to host an event in the city of New Orleans, because the urban community needs to hear him speak and have access to his book. I also hope he is able to look back on his his visit here and remember the impact he left on his fans.

Here’s what Jason Lee had to say on Instagram:

Source: Jason Lee Instagram

Repost from @theonlyjasonlee using – I’m sitting at the New Orleans airport, and these two fake morherfuckers come over and pretend to be undercover detectives. Clearly they don’t know who I am. So when I challenged them and started recording their bitch asses ran off. Here I am a new author or telling my story, and these people think I changed. Not today! •

Source: Jason Lee Instagram

Update: I made a whole scene and demanded the Sheriff. Turns out they were narcotics detectives doing a “random check”. Sounds like stop and frisk. Thankfully I know my rights and challenged them and when fans walked up asking what was wrong they backed off. Know your rights folks cause these police don’t care. Source: Jason Lee Instagram

For more info or to buy the book click link https://www.amazon.com/God-Must-Have-Forgotten-About-ebook/

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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