I was raised by racists, and then one day it just went away [View all]

[1-Old-Man]

I was raised by my grandparents, both of whom where born in the late 1800's. They came from western South Carolina. They were both racists who had been raised by men and women who had endured the worst of Sherman's march. That is who they were, I am what they raised.

In 1966 I was a young fellow and I 'moved' from the suburbs of Washington DC to Miami, Florida traveling by hitch-hiking. As luck would have it I got a ride in northern Virginia with a fellow who was headed far south, but unfortunately also to the west. The next morning he dropped me off somewhere in eastern Alabama, a hundred or so miles inland from my route south (US-1, US-17, US-301, and such small arts of I-95 as existed at that time). After walking through a small town I got a ride with an entire family, traveling in a 1958 Ford. The family was black, I was in the back seat along with two young women and a couple of kids. One of the women was breast feeding her child. An old man was driving and his wife and another middle-aged woman were in the front seat. They were all interested in what this young white boy was doing with all his worldly possessions in a paper bag and his thumb stuck out in a place he should not be. And I told them that I was headed to Miami and that I had a sister down there and pretty likely a job waiting too. They were horrified. I would never make it to Florida or even back into Georgia as far as they could see. I was told quite bluntly that I was awfully lucky to have even made it through that town without being arrested. The old man told me that it wouldn't make any difference that I was white and not black. I was from the north and that would be enough, I would be on a road-gang with not a thing in the world to help me within the day.

And while he was telling me that the old man turned to the left and that family went 75 miles out of their way to get me safely out of Alabama and back into eastern Georgia. And that changed everything. It knocked the racism right out of me and at the same time it caused me to be a more generous, or maybe a better way to say that is a less self-centered, person than I had been raised to be. My god, those were wonderful people. Anyway it was one hellacious learning experience.

I don't know that it means much, but that is what happened. By the way, I had $5 with me on that trip and I put $3 of it into their gas tank when they dropped me off. I know that doesn't sound like much but it made them whole and left plenty of money for me to eat as I got on my way.