A cure for the race?

I know, that’s bassackwards – but it is today’s topic – right here in black and white… or, mebbe black-yellow-and-blue as the case may be.

Me thinks, had I been black – I’d be dead by now. THANK GOD for the Martin Luther King types. THANK GOD for the Buck O’Neill’s of the world… They do/did it peacefully – with a smile – with the love of God – and it hasn’t been an overnight kinda thing... It’s a journey, still ongoing.

Had I made it to the NBA, it’d been quite a story… I usedta dribble my basketball six blocks to the old Catholic Elementary School… it was ‘tween where I lived and “The North End” where blacks were “sequestered”. There was harmony there – we were friends – we enjoyed the sport – we laughed – we played – sure, we fought – and yes, sometimes it was a white against a black – but it was also a white agin’ a white and a black agin’ a black. Race meant nothing to us – and this was in the 60’s.

Repeating from an earlier blog (sorry to make you read twice… sorry to make you read twice.. hehe) – this one about my father’s friends:

****(Burt McGinness... the feller, who happened to be black, was a trash hauler in town. Burt, by his late 60's, early 70's fell victim to the progression of our fine city - and the new idea "We have too many independent haulers... we need just one... so we'll have a bid... and the winner will get the contract of the entire city." So, stacked up against the State Senator's company, doest thou think Burt had a chance? Of course not.

For years my father paid the mandatory contractual rate to the city for "State Senator's Trash Company" AND, paid Burt to continue to swing by and grab his trash. Burt's face never knew a frown - and the pace of his step screamed out 'happy.' Imagine that, a man who couldn't pee, sleep, eat, swim at the same places many could for so many years HAPPY? How dare he!

Well he was.... I will never forget dad leaving a cool six-pack on top of the week's trash... or a ten-dollar bill... Where we lived had the coldest waterspout in the town. Burt would always jump out of his truck (Jump being the key/true word at age 73) and run up to the garden hose to get that "coldest drink of water in town." Dad would hustle to the back step and yell "HEYYYYYY, I TOLD you we don't like YOUR KIND around here!"... Burt could do nothing but smile - and stick around for a 45 minute conversation about life in general with dad.)*****

I shared that blog story with a new friend of mine – Shelton – who, yes, also happens to be a black man… His wonderful reply about Burt’s ability to smile was “It was easy for Mr Burt to smile because God had given him grace to smile. I can still see him smiling and talking, just as I can many of the other giants in my life.” NO NO NO… THAT AIN’T RIGHT. FUCK those people who made me sit in the balcony at the Plaza Theater… FUCK those people who wouldn’t let me eat in their stinkin’ restaurants.. FUCK the hotel/motel owners for making me sleep in my car… FUCK you Courthouse people for making me pee/poop in “Colored Men’s Restroom.” See… I’da never made it. I guess there’s a reason I’m white.

This today is written to ask for prayers for Buck O’Neill. He’s 94, almost 95.. His once booming baritone voice has been reduced to whispers of late. He’s tired. He’s old. They say he doesn’t have anything terminal – yet – like Maynard and the Davy Crockett movie – it’s my hope Buck lives on forever and ever and ever. He’s been running since the day he was able to walk. He’s a living legend. You’ll NEVER get that smile to come off his face, huh uh. To refresh, Buck is the man who played and managed in the Negro Leagues – never got the chance to play or manage in the Big Leagues – yet, the title of his book is “I was right on time.” The man has the most infectious smile I’ve ever seen in my life. He amazed Ken Burns. Letterman fell in love with him.. I couldn’t be Buck. NO NO NO.. FUCK YOU ALL, I can hit better than any of those whities.. I can run like the wind – you’d NEVER throw me out at 2nd base. Again, perhaps there’s a reason God made me white. Mr. Buck – I bow to you. I learn from you. I admire you. I’m amazed by you. I try to emulate you. Godspeed sir. (For a wonderful read, about a wonderful man... copy, paste and go to http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/15537586.htm

I’m not proud of this “attribute?” of my white ancestry. Yes, we’ve still a ways to go. May future generations never discriminate, or be discriminated against. Buck, Martin, Burt, Shelton – you’ve led the way for the cure for the races. You simply demonstrated to us it was never a sickness to begin with. Why can’t we be friends… why can’t we be friends.. Red and yellow and pink and green… purple and orange and blue… I can sing a rainbow…. one Nation under God, indivisible,
With Liberty and Justice for all. Let’s join hands… Happy day, Victurd.