As emailed to my small group of friends this morning:

Mike, a Sioux Indian,  and I sat down in the entrance foyer of our High School and began what grew into a larger gathering of students paying silent homage.

The taunts of a few racist bastards walking by did not faze us.

There is a picture of that beginning in the high school year book.

 

We did that 50 years ago on 04/04/68.

 

 

Except for legacy I’m uncertain if much else came of it. Ax handles, fire hoses and German Shepherds were deployed with regularity in those times. Some Negroes ( changes in language and perceptions have made the current word “black” be favored) were hung like the good ol’ days in the South.

Now young men are shot in the back and a toy gun is placed underneath to corroborate the claims of “We thought he had a gun”.

 

50 years gentlemen.

50.

Was it all folly?

 

I’m flummoxed.

 

Views: 101

Comment by koshersalaami on April 4, 2018 at 2:07pm

Not exactly, because trends for the last 50 years haven’t been linear. 

Comment by Rosigami on April 5, 2018 at 7:03am

It would seem that 50 years is just not enough time. 

Comment by alsoknownas on April 5, 2018 at 7:28am

k/s and Rosi,

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment.

50 years is apparently just a blink of the eye.

Comment by Anna Herrington on April 5, 2018 at 1:52pm

My parents were supposed to meet Dr. King, 50 years ago today, along with a group of women from Nigeria, sponsored by the Atlanta Council of International Visitors. We'd moved to Atlanta less than a year before.

In the aftermath of the assassination, no one thought about these women, what to do with these women, so my parents decided to bring them home. They drove almost two hours one way to where they were, drove back home with them, served them lunch and they talked around the table until it was time to drive them almost two hours again, to the airport. Before leaving, the women told my parents in all the spots they'd toured in the U.S. thus far, no one had invited them into their home before. I later learned in Nigeria, to not invite someone to your home is a grave insult.

Fifty years later, I like to think that in spite of what has or has not been accomplished by society in all those years, there were then and still are still good folks who quietly do decent things, one on one.... where all healing takes root, to begin, imho, one to one, human to human, showing decency. Sharing lunch.

Comment by Anna Herrington on April 5, 2018 at 1:56pm

I also think the current climate would have my parents shaking their heads in despair at the reversals, the ground lost, as hate rises ever more brazenly.... they were firm believers in 'it takes a village' as far as social repair goes, They felt it is up to everyone. Each and every one of us.

Comment by alsoknownas on April 5, 2018 at 3:08pm

Thanks for the contribution Anna. Good story and I agree with your sentiments.

Comment by Anna Herrington on April 6, 2018 at 8:20am

Thanks for the space for me to add that little anecdote, aka, I like that my parents did this once upon a time.... wish I could say I'd have definitely done the same thing. I'm not sure what I would have done, frankly, (almost two hours each way?) but my parents were outgoing and generous, that way. I later heard there were a couple of upset neighbors over this visit, while other neighbors were glad to know they'd stepped up for the visitors - became a neighbor issue for a little while, apparently. FFS - why?????  Might be easy to say 'a different time' but as your post laments... is it?

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