Red Room Where the Writers Are

Ever since I was a kid I remember hearing  bad stories about a town in Northwest Alabama near where I was born. Very Bad Stories. The story was this: There was a sign in the town warning blacks to get out of town before the sun went down... or else. It’s exact phrasing was this: "N*****, Don’t let the sun go down on you in (Name of town.) And that the police would enforce that warning on any African American who for whatever reason, disobeyed that warning.

I had only been to the town once in my life, in the seventies, when I went up there to see a beautiful young woman I was crazy about... who of course married someone else. All I could remember about the town back then was... it was indeed all white.

I thought about that sign recently, because just the other day I had occasion to revisit this town after thirty something years.

I had seen an article in the local newspaper about a very interesting company that incidently, was located in that town, and I sent an email to the owner, who graciously invited me to visit and see the company for myself.

And as I headed for that town... I wondered how much it had really changed... since the days that sign existed.

It didn’t take me long to find out. As I turned off the four lane and went a few miles toward the town... I saw flashing blue lights in the distance.

Sixty years ago that could have meant big trouble for you... if you were black and it was after dark... as there were several hundred lynchings in Alabama in the years of enforced segregation, and about 3,000 across the South.

Real people, murdered without the benefit of a fair trial... or even an unfair trial.

But now, in 2008, as I passed the policemen who were doing the pullover, I noticed that one of them was a Black American.

I was glad.

Back in those old days... no sign such as the one that was there, could have existed without the consent of the local government, nor could it be enforced without racist police officers.

And no person could have been lynched... without that same consent.

Because to turn away and not notice, and to do nothing to stop injustice... is consent.

Now things had changed so much... that descendants of those who had been oppressed, were now given the opportunity to be police officers... with the sworn duty of enforcing the law equally for all.

I received further proof that things really have changed... when the businessman I had come to see took me to the local restaurant for lunch. For there everyone seemed to know him and treated him not only with respect, but with genuine affection.

They genuinely liked him... and it made no difference to them in the world that his name was Hispanic in origin.

They treated him on the basis of who he was and what he did in the community.

Just as everyone should do everywhere.

Judge people on what they do...

Not what they look like or sound like.

This little town has come to the point where...

The sign is just a memory to some old people.

I’m one of them.

And I hope that things continue to improve so much in this country...

All over this country...

That bad memories such as the one I had...

Finally completely fade away.

Where articles like this one...

That bring up sad times of our past...

Won’t be believed.

People will think it is just something I made up.

I wish it was something I had made up.

But since it isn’t...

I’m glad those days are for the most part...

Gone.

And I hope...

Gone forever.

April 25, 2008