19 Comments
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Ellen Yvonne's avatar

I’m not trying to diminish the factor of race in this story or the humiliation the white family meant to perpetrate on you but my own experience is that white people can treat their own family members with disdain and contempt too, for decades, but do so far more subtly and consistently so that it’s difficult to identify it for what it is—abuse, inhumane. I’m 61 and just now coming to terms with how my father taught my younger brother to have contempt for me and how he in turn is teaching one of his children to have contempt for me as well. It’s insidious. I wish I knew how to make it stop. For the betterment of all of us.

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John Landau's avatar

Hard to hear, but in no way surprising for anyone who grew up at that time. Would it be different now? Maybe, sometimes. I hope so.

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John Landau's avatar

Beautifully told, by the way:)

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Marlon Weems's avatar

Thank you!

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Peter Pappas's avatar

In the South of 1976, a Black man saved a child’s life—and what happened next speaks volumes about the times, and maybe even about today.

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Robert Honeyman's avatar

My immediate thought with the woman who didn't have the courtesy to thank your friend was she may well be socially awkward or on the spectrum and didn't know how to respond. The very kindness may have caused enough anxiety to lead to the blank look and strange response.

However, the swimming pool scene was very clearly racism and disgusting. I've always wondered if I would do the right thing in such a situation but have never been tested. Kudos to you for reacting in the best possible manner.

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Ellen Johnson's avatar

I read the coffee shop story and while it certainly could have been about race, you have to take gender into account too, and the practice of men buying drinks for women as a come-on

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Marlon Weems's avatar

I honestly didn’t think the coffee incident was about race. It did, however, cause me to remember my experience which was, especially given the time when it happened, definitely about race. I guess you could say it triggered me. As far as the “come-on” aspect of your point, maybe? But if that was indeed what they thought, then why accept it the free coffee? It’s like when a guy (or gal) sends a someone a drink in a bar; if there’s no interest, then you don’t accept, right?

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Charles T Quinnelly's avatar

Did you ever enjoy driving the Natchez Trace back in the 70s? It was slower but very senic way to go with a bucket of Minnie Pearls....

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Marlon Weems's avatar

Yes! We had to stop in many towns in the general area, but TBH, we were all over the place: Oxford, Tupelo, Tunica, Meridian—wherever there were Black-owned funeral homes.

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Charles T Quinnelly's avatar

I was raised in Starkville, (MSU), left in '77 via USAF. Must of been fun for you to vacation while your dad worked.

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tiefer$taat's avatar

White indoctrination is generational. A Klan-type member in my biological family tried everything to make me in into his alt-right image. It should be illegal to indoctrinate children with hatred for others. It's a pathological, remnant of transnational human trafficking. So is the electoral college.

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Heidi Lynn Adelsman's avatar

I’d like to think the kid has internalized the kindness and life you gave him. But his parents were there to wipe it out maybe. Still a fact is a fact. Wishing that kid would appear here to thank you now.

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Richard Potter's avatar

I’m sorry that happened to you.

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Teri Gelini's avatar

What a wonderful story and how true it is . So sorry for what happened to you. Being kind does not cost a person anything and it can change a persons day.

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Karl Pearson's avatar

At this time of forgiveness and thanksgiving - for some people at least - this is a thoughtful story to hear.

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Carolyn Nafziger's avatar

Sometimes it's hard to believe how crass some people can be. :-/

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Naima  (NM)'s avatar

And gratitude is humbling and arises from an open heart. Fear can obstruct that, sadly.

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Nov 23Edited
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Raffey's avatar

Back to normal, memories flowed out of my mind too. By 16, we were living in the city and I was taking busses between school, work and home. During any time off I could manage, I took a bus or train, then backpacked into wild country. Once you get out of cities, getting around without a car is next to impossible, so I did what we always did before we moved to the city... I hitchhiked.

And then I got stupid. I was back in the city and waiting for the bus, when I stuck out my stupid thumb. A man in a big car stopped and I jumped in. He asked me where I was going and I told him. Just a couple miles later, he turned the opposite direction. I said, you can let me out here, and I'll catch the next bus, but he kept driving, and driving and slowing down to avoid stopping at lights, then driving on. Of course, everybody heard scary hitchhiking stories around the campfire, but.... I was young and stupid and never thought it could happen to me, until it did. I put my hand on the door handle and the driver said, open that door and I'll floor this car. I was seriously frightened, but he slowed down and started talking.

He told me he had daughters my age and when he saw me hitchhiking he thought of them.

Hitchhiking is dangerous, he said very sternly, then reminded me, that I didn't know anything about him when I got in my car. Are you scared he asked, and I nodded my terrified head yes. Good, that's what I wanted. I wanted to scare you enough, to stop you from hitchhiking again and then he pulled over, stopped and told me to get out of his car.

I walked, five miles or more before I found a bus stop and got back on track. Suffice to say, I never hitchhiked in the city again. Eventually, I stopped hitchhiking in the country too. I've always figured that man was some kind of angel, who stopped by, to keep me safe and on track.

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