**George Malvaney (center front) and the other nine mercenaries involved with the Bayou of Pigs plot entering the Orleans Parish Prison, April 1981. AP Photo/Jack Thornell.**

George Malvaney’s life epitomizes the old maxim that “You cannot make this stuff up.” Combine a young Klansman from Mississippi, an armed coup attempt in the Caribbean, a stay in prison, and a life-changing epiphany, and you have but half of this swashbuckling tale. Throw in the worst man-made ecological disaster in the history of the United States, and you have unleashed Malvaney’s full life story. The Klansman, the soldier of fortune, the wild-eyed prisoner transforms into a renowned leader of the Mississippi Gulf Coast cleanup effort in the wake of the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill.

In his too-crazy-not-to-be-true memoir, Malvaney chronicles what easily should be several lifetimes of adventure—and misadventure. Growing up in a close-knit family in Jackson, Mississippi, the young Malvaney preferred woods and swamps to the drudgery of high school. He dropped out, enlisted in the Navy and shortly afterwards joined the KKK.

It chronicles the roller coaster life of a high school dropout, ex-Klansman, ex-mercenary, ex-felon, and ex-con, who went on to become a college graduate, a hard-nosed environmental regulator, and a widely respected top executive in a company with more than a thousand employees.

George Malvaney (center front), Mississippi Governor Haley Barbour (right), and BP’s Kenny Spriggs exiting a Blackhawk helicopter after a tour of the BP oil slick off the Mississippi Gulf Coast, May 2010.

While on board, he organized a branch of the Klan, corrupting and endangering his crewmen. After his discharge, he answered a mercenary call to take part in an invasion of Dominica, a Caribbean fiasco known as the “Bayou of Pigs.” That madness landed him in a federal penitentiary. And there, somehow, he vowed to turn his life around.

Cups Up, a title drawn from the demeaning command shouted at thirsty prisoners, is a story of perseverance, cleansing, and redemption.

**Op-Ed Written By George Malvaney October 2025**

I Threw Away My Freedom to Extremism. Political Violence Will Cost You the Same.

By George T. Malvaney

I know what it feels like to be young, angry, and convinced that violence is the answer. I have been there. Decades ago, I fell in with the most radical wing of the Ku Klux Klan. I believed their tirades, followed their orders, and thought I was serving some greater cause. What I really did was throw away the one thing I cherished the most, my freedom.

I once associated with some of the most violent and radical Klansmen to have ever existed – men who would make leaders of Antifa, the Groyper Army, and the Proud Boys look like model citizens. My close associates included Sam Bowers and Byron De La Beckwith, names tied to some of the darkest chapters of America’s history. You don’t become a confidant of these men without being considered a violent extremist yourself. I was deep in it, and I paid the price.

I spent time in five different federal prisons, including the maximum-security U. S. Penitentiary in Atlanta, for conspiracy to invade a foreign country with intent to overthrow the government, known as the Bayou of Pigs. The punishment wasn’t only the danger or the brutal conditions. It was the suffocating reality of losing my freedom. That loss seeps into your soul and never leaves. In prison, you lose birthdays, graduations, and simple human moments you can never reclaim. You lose your sense of worth as the world moves on without you. No cause, no leader, no ideology is worth that kind of emptiness.

Now I see others heading down the same dark road – Tyler Robinson, the man accused of killing Charlie Kirk, and the gunman who opened fire on an ICE facility in Dallas. And it's not confined to one ideology. We've seen it in the murders of Minnesota House of Representatives Speaker Emerita Melissa Hortman and her husband, and in the shooting of Minnesota State Sen. John Hoffman and his wife. I know exactly where it ends. What feels like a bold act in the moment will collapse into regret, iron bars, and wasted years. Political violence tears at the fabric of this country and makes it harder for people to come together in peaceful debate. It fuels fear and division, and in the end, it silences the very voices that want real change.

If you are listening to voices urging violence and “revenge” or trying to inspire copycat attacks, understand this: You will not be a hero. You will not spark change. You will end up in an 8-by-10 cell, surrounded by people you despise, and you will spend every hour wondering why you gave everything up for nothing.

I once thought I was proving myself by standing shoulder to shoulder with men whose names carried fear and hatred. In reality, I was shrinking my life into something small and hollow.

There is another way. I became a writer, published an autobiography, and used writing as a platform to express my views and engage with those of differing opinions. I came to see that strength has nothing to do with intimidation. It takes discipline to think, to argue, to persuade, and to keep building, especially at times when it feels like the world is against you. I found purpose in science, business, and community work that adds to the world instead of tearing it apart. Change in this country comes through politics, law, organizing, and persistence. It is slow and often frustrating, but it is real.

We are at a crossroads. Political violence is not just the ruin of the person who pulls the trigger; it weakens the very system that allows us to disagree and still live free. If my story shows anything, it is that there is no redemption in violence. The only way forward is through engagement, not destruction.

George T. Malvaney is the managing partner of E3 Environmental Services. He is known for his work following the 2010 BP oil spill and is the author of "Cups Up: How I Organized a Klavern, Plotted a Coup, Survived Prison, Graduated College, Fought Polluters and Started a Business."