More Introspection

I have been reflecting a lot these days - maybe it is a part of cabin fever. For you weather watchers, we are expecting a foot of snow in the next 24 hours, at least in the higher elevations, so that means here.

Anyway, introspectively, we have crossed a bridge in our country that I honestly never thought I would live to see. I remember the 'race riots' of the 1960's and the animosity that festered then. I also remember my father and oldest brother being the two biggest racists that I will ever know, my brother being the worst. If they were alive now, they would be sure the world is doomed.

My father was an "Archie Bunker" from All In The Family - they could have modeled the character after him. And yet, that was one of his favorite TV shows. I do not think he understood the main character was flawed; I think he thought he was right. My father hated certain ethnic groups - actually, I think he hated all ethnic groups - but he had an interesting array of friends. One of his best friends was actually a black man who was 'passin' - pretending to be Italian. My father never put that together, even when the daughter was very dark and had very curly hair. My mother told me about the guy having to do what was best for his family and I should not tell my father. The daughter was one of my friends in grade school and we never discussed the issue, as that was how it was done then.

We lived for a time near the Garden State Parkway, and during the riots in Asbury Park a gentleman's car broke down, so he came to our house to use the phone for help. He was very nervous, as he was an African American man entering into a white family's home, pretty far from other houses and in the middle of the night, amidst all the racial tension. My mother answered the door, let him in and gave him a cup of coffee and a couple of aspirin. After he took the aspirin, he panicked and was obviously afraid that my mother had poisoned him. It took a lot to reassure him that there was nothing wrong. I remember pondering how he was as frightened of us as we had been taught to be frightened of him. My father was asleep upstairs during all this. Being deaf, he did not hear anything, and as usual, my mother said I should never tell my father about the incident. But it made me realize that this was a person, not the stereotype that my father, and later my brother, preached about.

My father gave me a lecture once on who to marry. By the time he was done, there was pretty much nobody left! No Catholics, no Jews, no Blacks, no Orientals, etc. I took it all to mean that nobody was good enough for his little girl, but he was serious and threatened dis-ownment if I crossed any of the lines. I will say here, the lines were crossed...

My brother was so prejudiced that he would quit jobs if he were forced to work with someone outside his beliefs. And yet his first marriage was to a woman from a foreign country! Hard to figure, but I am sure he would threaten to move to Canada if he were alive today.

I am sure there are people still like my father and brother today. I hope they are more open to a dialogue to resolve their issues. Or they at least stay quiet.