MAWA

 (7.5-minute read)

            And just today the Supreme Court did away with affirmative action.

Southern connection

I got out of the Army in 1970. My first wife and I received one of those you have “won a prize” contests in the mail.  We entered and WON!  As it turned out our prize was a stay in a nice hotel right off the beach in Florida.  We could even go on a cruise if we wanted!  Be still my beating heart.

We took them up on their offer.  Since I had been away from the US so long, I wanted to see some country.  So, we loaded up our Datsun 1200 and headed for Florida.  We drove south until we reached the gulf.  Then we headed east following along the coastline.

It was a good trip but not without some drama.  We’ll get to that in a minute.

I don’t remember the exact date of our trip but I had been out of the Army long enough to grow a ponytail.  It was probably sometime in ’71 when the weather was nice and warm.  Good time to dip your toes in the ocean weather.  

This was a time of tie-dyed shirts and bell-bottomed pants.  My hair complemented the rest of my hippie attire.  Honestly, looking back at pictures of me from then I dressed like a clown.  A bulbous red nose and great big shoes would have completed the ensemble. 

Well, upon reaching our destination the lady in charge of booking the cruise looked up from her desk in the hotel foyer at me and decided that unfortunately the cruise was booked up.  Dang!  We had really been looking forward to the opportunity to buy some swampland, a time share, a lovely bungalow, an investment opportunity or whatever delight was in the offing. 

It was a good hotel on Kings Road one but had seen better days.  BTW, it’s gone now.  Converted to condos for the financially well off.  Our room was quite nice.  The room rate of free was perfect!  We had 3 days! 

We waded in the ocean.

Thumbs out.

The trip to Florida was an education in and of itself. Much of what we saw is like the Ozarks of today or what can be found in areas of the Appalachia mountains where poverty is generational.

As we drove through small towns along the coast it was impossible not to see abject poverty.  Homes without windows or doors that people were living in.  People dressed in clothes that were way past their best if used by date.  Abandoned rusting vehicles in yards that were either too expensive to fix or in such bad shape that they weren’t worth the bother.  Adequate transportation for the poor, economically challenged if you prefer, has been, is and will continue to be a struggle for the foreseeable future. 

As we drove through the states along the coast, we noticed that there were lots of people of color hitchhiking.  Sometimes it looked like whole families.  They would be standing on street corners either trying to drum up a ride or they were just waiting for a ride. I noticed that if the car had white occupants the hitching thumb would immediately drop down.

Even though our Datsun got excellent gas mileage I did have a spare 5-gallon gas can in the trunk.  Yes, I know.  Dangerous.  But we were young.  Also, it came in handy.  During one of our fueling stops I pulled in at a small-town gas station in front of what looked like a small store.  I don’t remember the name of the town or state.  There were a couple of bench seats on the porch in front of the store filled up with men.  I don’t remember for sure how many but I’m going to say a half dozen or so.  They were dressed in country garb.  No one was playing a banjo.  

There wasn’t an attendant so I hopped out to gas up.  They cleared the benches and were all running towards me.  They weren’t happy.  At all.  In addition to talking about my mom and linage they were yelling all kinds of other stuff.  They weren’t asking for my autograph.  They were quite descriptive about their plans for my immediate future.

Fortunately, I made it back in the car, jumped in and sped away before they got a hold of me.  Things would not have gone well.  We decided then that perhaps a little more caution was in order.  Scared the crap out of us.  We had never seen, heard or experienced anything like that.  I was real glad that I had extra gas in the trunk.

Nothing more noteworthy happened until we got to the Florida panhandle.  We pulled in for some fried chicken at a restaurant.  It was mid afternoon and we were the only ones there.  We were lost in conversation and not really paying much attention to our surroundings.  Lessons are so easily forgotten.

There was a young black kid, maybe 8 or 9 years old, bussing tables.  He was dressed in white.  Looked like a uniform.  He had on one of those little white hats like the soda jerks would wear.  He meandered over close to us and was cleaning up a table not far away.  Without looking up he said, “Mister.  You need to get out of here.”

It was a quiet voice but intense. I didn’t look at him.  It was then that I realized that we had been waiting quite a long time for our country fried chicken.  Kind of casual like, while stretching I looked around.  The entire staff of the restaurant was standing at one side angrily staring at us.  Cook, wait staff, the cashier and some others.  Some had their arms folded.  Others had their arms hanging to the side with fists clenched.  I grabbed my wife by the arm mid-sentence.  That alone startled her.  I said, “Grab your purse!  We’re leaving!”  She was just starting to say something when she also glanced at the hostile crowd.  We quickly exited the premises.

I am still amazed at the courage shown by that child.  I imagine that he had some stories to tell about the hippie couple that stopped at the cracker joint to order some fried chicken.  He maintained his cool and composure throughout.  He took a chance by giving us that warning.  

What we experienced during that trip was enlightening.  It made our society and supposed advancement seem primitive even though we had people land on the moon.  Yet here we were in some backwards small towns still untouched by the social advancements of humanity. This was in the 70s.  From what I’m observing today things haven’t changed all that much.

Trump’s election proved that.

How deep is it?

This is something that I have noted before. Until the 2016 election I really did not understand the depth of racism in this country.  I had an idea from the President Obama years.  The circles that I moved in were conservative.  During the years that I was Republican I received more racist email than I had seen in my entire life.  Ugly stuff.  Real. Ugly. Racist. Stuff.  Images of the President and First Lady portrayed as monkeys were real popular.  

During the Trump years our First Lady was a woman who had previously posed oiled up and nude with another naked woman.  She had also previously stripped down for a nude photo session on Trump’s plane with him watching.  As First Lady she was cold, aloof and distant most of the time.  No monkey pictures for her!

So here we are in the year 2023 and people are still rioting. We have an ex-President that seems to relish escalating what is taking place by claiming the racist high ground. And yes, he’s a racist. He was a racist when I first started studying him back during his casino years. He’s a racist now. He was a liar then. He’s a liar now. He was corrupt then. He’s corrupt now. He never “pivoted” as President to be a better human being. He’s only gotten worse.

Trump is the modern great white hope.

Make America white again!

What we’re seeing take place in the Republican Party isn’t just Trump’s doing.  This has been decades in the making.  Decades upon decades upon decades.  Since the Civil War really.  The poor, minorities and immigrants can only be victimized so long before they rise up.  That has always been the case historically. We watched the former Soviet Union come apart overnight.  Think it can’t happen here? Revolution is ugly.  Society can come undone.  Look at what’s going on in Europe.  Why do you think that Republicans have such a love fest with Hungary’s Victor Orbán?  Think it can’t happen here? 

What we’re seeing from Republicans isn’t our greatness. It isn’t the best that we are.

It’s the worst.

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