June 19, 2020

It is Juneteenth!  I remember the first time I heard the date and what it was about.  My Dad said, "Well, it is Juneteenth.  None of the n*****s will be working today."  I asked why and he explained it was the day the slaves were freed in Texas following the Civil War.  

My Dad was a racist.  Not a hood wearing, kill the blacks kind of racist.  The subtle kind that would not eat if he saw a black person cooking at a restaurant.  The kind that used the n word.  He admitted he was racist.  He believed the races should not mix.  Separate but not quite equal.  When I was a teen around 1961 he and I would have arguments about races.  I remember sitting at the supper table arguing one night.  I had said something to the effect he needed to change his opinion about other races, they were equals.  His rebuttal was, "Kid, you just can't change these set ways in people.  Maybe in a few generations it can be gradually changed but it will not happen now."

My mother was reared differently from my dad.  Her father had taught her that there but by the grace of God walks you or I when discussing especially blacks.  Mom did not enter into the arguments between Daddy and me.  She usually referred to blacks as colored folks.  One of mom's best friends that she made working at Texas Instruments was Ruth.  Ruth was black.  Her husband was a minister at one of the churches in McKinney.  After retirement Mom continued her relationship with Ruth.  Mom and Daddy would visit Ruth and her husband in their home.  Daddy worked on their appliances.  And Daddy would eat food Ruth cooked.  In spite of everything 30 years later Daddy had changed.

My Dad, aka, Cow-Grandad and #2 Nephew

What on earth had brought about the change in my racist Dad?  Life and the surprises life brings.  Daddy loved, cherished and enjoyed each and every grandchild for their own unique personalities.  Daddy nor Mom ever showed favoritism in any way.  You know it is coming, but, my Number 2 Nephew (#2 N) and Daddy had a close relationship as #2 N lived with my folks for about a year.  Also, Daddy and #2 N's personalities were similar.  #2 N fell in love and married a black woman.  An educated, lovely black woman named Cindy  

#2 N and Cindy were next door neighbors growing up in Lawton.  They were attracted to each other for years.  #2 N knew the prejudices on both sides of the family.  Remember we all lived on cotton farms in north Texas.  Dallas was the closest 'big' city.  It was, also, where the KKK started.  Though both adults #2 and Cindy would sneak around to meet and date.  Finally #2 announced his intentions to both sides of his family.

#2 N knew he was on thin ice with the families.  Some in the family on his father's side cut #2 N our of their life following his marriage.  On our side of the family all were accepting.  Of course my Dad was conflicted.  Daddy loved #2 N so very much he just could not reject him.  But, still.  Eventually through Cindy's graciousness and the work of a High Power, Daddy accepted Cindy.  He discovered she was an excellent cook.  Guess the way to Daddy's heart truly was through his stomach.

Cindy and #2 N were unable to conceive a child.  Eventually they were able to adopt a child.  Jordan was the apple of Cindy's and #2 N's eyes.  Cindy developed lupus.  The medications could cause problems.  One January day Cindy and 18 month old Jordan headed into town to do some shopping.  Jordan was strapped in the back seat in the proper child seat.  Cindy lost control of the car on some gravel.  The car flipped and threw Cindy out the passenger window.  She did not have her seat belt fastened.  She was left unrecognizable.  Jordan was hanging upside down in his seat still safely strapped in.  Jordan later told my sister, "Mommy hurt her face."  Tragic loss to the entire family.

# 2 Nephew and Jordan

The marriage of #2 N and Cindy was how my Daddy ended up eating food cooked by Ruth in Ruth's home.  Did he still carry a prejudice at death?  Most likely but at least there had been a major change thanks to two black women.  Cindy remains in our hearts and minds.  Ruth was one of the first folks outside the family we called to let her know Mom had died.  Ruth wailed, "Oh, Jesus, my Mary is gone.  Help me Jesus."  She continued this for a minute or so.

Mom and her TI BFFs

Today may there be celebrations on this 155th anniversary of when Texas, the last state, freed the slaves.  May we each recognize within ourselves that bit of pre-judging we do toward other humans.  And may we each work to overcome that pre-judging (prejudice) of others.

Ruth and husband

In peace, Janice