But I wasn't born into hate; in fact, it was quite the opposite. I had a relatively normal childhood. My parents are Italian immigrants who came to the United States and settled on the South Side of Chicago, where they eventually met, and opened a small beauty shop. Right after I was born. They struggled to survive with raising often working seven days a week, 14 hours a day, taking on second and third jobs. And quality time with my parents. Even though I knew growing up, I felt abandoned. I was lonely, and I started to withdraw. And then I started to resent my parents. And as I was growing up, I started to act out to try and get. And one day, when I was 14, I was standing in an alley, and a man who was twice my age, came up to me, and he snatched the joint from my lips. Then he put his hand on my shoulder and he said, "That's what the communists to keep you docile." I was 14 years old. I'd been trading baseball cards. I didn't really know what a Jew was. It's true. And the only communist that I knew in my favorite Rocky movie. And since I'm here I can reveal that I did not even know. Dead serious. But it was as if this man in this alley. For 14 years, I'd felt I had low self-esteem. And frankly, I didn't know or what my purpose was. I was lost. And overnight, because this man and I had grabbed onto that lifeline I had gone from "Joanie Loves Chachi" to full-blown Nazi. Overnight. I started to listen to the rhetoric and believe it. I started to watch very closely would target vulnerable young people and then draw them in that were broken. And then I started to recruit myself. I started to do that by making. And soon, I became the leader that was led by that man in that alley who recruited me that day, who was America's first neo-Nazi skinhead. For the next eight years, I believed the lies that I had been fed. And though I saw I didn't hesitate to blame for what I thought was a white, being promoted by them. I blamed people of color for the crime and violence completely neglecting the fact on a daily basis, and that in many cases, it was white supremacists into the inner cities. And I blamed immigrants for taking jobs from white Americans, completely neglecting the fact that who struggled to survive, despite not getting help. For the next eight years, I saw friends die. I saw others go to prison on countless victims. I heard horrific stories who'd been brutally raped by the very men and I myself committed acts solely for the color of their skin, who they loved, or the god that they prayed to. I stockpiled weapons for what I thought I went to six high schools; I was kicked out of four of them, one of them, twice. And 25 years ago, I wrote that found its way and partially inspired to walk into a sacred Charleston, and senselessly massacre. But then my life changed. At 19 years old, I met a girl who didn't have a racist bone in her body, and I fell in love with her. And at 19, we got married, and we had our first son. And when I held my son in my arms not only did I reconnect at 14 years old, but it also began to challenge the very important things that drew identity, community and purpose -- things that I had been. And now, I struggled with the concept. Was I this neo-Nazi hatemonger, or was I a caring father and husband? Was my community the one to boost my own ego, because I felt self-hatred for myself or was it the one? Was my purpose to scorch the earth or was it to make it? And suddenly, like a ton of bricks hit me, I became very confused with. And if only I'd been brave enough to understand what the struggle was then maybe tragedy. Instead, I did compromise. I took myself off the streets because I was nervous that maybe and they would have to fend. So I stepped back as a leader, and instead I opened a record store that I was going to sell because I was importing it in from Europe. But I knew that if I was just the community would not. So I decided I was going to also like punk rock and heavy metal and hip-hop. And while the white-power music was 75 percent of my gross revenue, because people were driving in from the only store that was selling it, I also had customers come in. And eventually, they started. One day, a young black teen came in, and he was visibly upset. And I decided to ask him what was wrong. And he told me that his mother.