Spinners and ALJ; photo by MAA
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BLM, Black History month musings
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| February being Black History month, it seems timely to share some experiences in my life with Blacks. To begin with, even before I was born, my mom & dad were warned to not purchase the house they were eyeing, because, cautioned their white friends, "blacks will be moving into the neighborhood." But mom and dad did not care, bought the house, and raised four kids there. In fact, when we kids were old enough, and mom went to work 40 hours weekly, we had a black babysitter (Vickie). We had a black housecleaner. Our neighborhood library had two black librarians. I won a contest one summer for reading the most books; my sister was second place. My 5th grade teacher was Dolores Hickman, and she had every one of us kids learn about and do a report on a Black person from history. I chose Dr. George Washington Carver. Mr. Hickman (George) was our basketball coach. When I had a paper route, two of the other paper boys were black (Anthony and Kermit), and I did their routes when they were sick, and they did mine likewise. One of them and I played chess together. I was a fan of black basketball players, and read biographies of some such as Walt Frazier and Connie Hawkins. I liked music and had Stevie Wonder's Living in the City song. So, even though I grew up in a Seattle neighborhood that had extremely few black residents, I had plenty of positive interactions with blacks in my childhood. Seattle has the lowest percentage of Blacks, and highest of whites & Asians, of the top 30 cities in the USA . . . |
| My interactions with Blacks continued as I grew into adulthood. I recall my 1980 trip Back East, being the only white on an entire busload in Philadelphia. It was an interesting impression. |
| In my 20s, I had a neighbor, James Adams. He was black, and the most extroverted, friendly man imaginable. He was an expert salesman. Whatever Radio Shack store he managed, had the highest sales volume in the county. He and I, and his wife Phyllis, became friendly. I used their basement office for a month, with their Mac computer, to type Trees of Seattle, from my typewriter version. James complimented me, with words along this line: "I can sell anything to anyone. But you are too much. You do not fall for my techniques. I admire that!" |
| The year (I forget which) that Jesse Jackson was a serious candidate for President, I was an alternate delegate for him from my precinct. That precinct was the most "blue" in Seattle, and was less than a mile from the most "red" in the city --the Broadmoor neighborhood. |
| In my 30s, I was a gardener for a couple who had a big garden, including a swimming pool, in a racially mixed neighborhood. In the summer, a few days a week, they let neighborhood kids swim in their pool, as long as an adult served as lifeguard. One day, a little black girl somehow got a cut on her foot, that was bleeding. The housekeeper serving as the lifeguard freaked out. So I calmed the girl, washed her wound, and applied bandages. Thereafter, the other little kids teased the girl that she had a crush on me. All the kids were black, and all the grownups involved were white. It didn't matter to any of us. Those kids liked to pick unripe plums, and eat them with ketchup. Whatever. |
| Also in my 30s, while I presided over the non-profit Seattle Tilth organization in 1996, I met my best Black friend, Michele. We have a blast together. Once she had me show some ten or so black teenage boys about eating wild edible plants. They were skeptical at first, but soon enough I had them excited, enthusiastic, and tasting dandelions, daisies and whatnot. Once, I dined at a table with Michele and four others; I was the one white there. Michele laughed, "Now you get an idea how I experience being the fly in the buttermilk." |
| There you go. It is not a detailed or complete account, but does tell you why I care how a person behaves --not their skin color. |
The photo above was taken by Michele, and shows me with two of the Spinners in 2019, after they performed at Jazz Alley.
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