Places like that can be interesting if only for the mix of people they bring together (which is an understatement to say the least). There were a few alchies (I may have botched the spelling there), a couple of petty crooks and some hard working if poor people (of which I was one).
I made friends with a few of the guys there, mainly the ones who seemed normal, sane and had a good relationship with the people who ran the Y (usually by working for the facility, which I did as well).
There was Norman (Solomon) an overweight and loud man, Norman was known for his knowledge on almost everything under the sun and would offer his opinion on it to you whether you wanted him to or not. Norman, who was rumored to have recorded an album in the mid 70's (Side A - Norman Talkin’... Side B - More Norman Talkin’ with the bonus cut, Norman and Carlton talkin’ about women). Warm days Norman could be found on the front steps of the building, clad in an obscenely tight bicyclists garb of spandex pants and a equally tight checkered spandex shirt which emphasized his girth.
Norman would usually be in the company of Carlton who always wore a jeans jacket, jeans and a baseball cap and was Norman’s opposite being short and slight of build. They would spend the afternoon shooting the breeze and chatting with whomever made their way into the building.
There was Artie, tall, rangy and good-natured - with his loud infectious laugh, known both for having one of the nicest rooms in the facility and his ability to sneak ladies in for overnight visits into the otherwise male only dorm.
Brad was boisterous and friendly. He ran the front desk (as well as living in the facility) and was really good working with the kids during the day camp the Y sponsored during the summer months. Brad seemed straight as an arrow but it belied the skeleton he carried around in his closet. Notwithstanding, he was always a good guy to me.
Lastly, there was Kevin. a line worker at the local auto plant. Short, but solidly built (from his years working the arresting gear on an aircraft carrier), Kevin knew just about everyone in town by name. The smile he walked around with was permanently affixed to his face. He set goals for himself and set about achieving those goals: he wrote, tried to mount production of a play locally, ran religiously and was always trying new, different things (whether it be conditioning the callus of his knuckles by repeatedly pounding them into buckets of various grades of buckshot or trying all kinds of Chinese medicinal herbs just to name a few).
Kevin and I were about the same age and wound up becoming friends, hanging out and having breakfast every once in a while or catching a movie. Kevin was a good entry into town life since he seemed to know everyone and they most of the towns people found him quite charming. The Y being situated next to a volunteer firehouse, I wondered why Kevin who seemed to know everyone at the firehouse never joined the brigade. It seemed like something he would do.
Also, I would tell Kevin he should think about running for some kind of village office but at every juncture Kevin would downplay the idea and there was a very simple reason why he did. It was the same reason that although he was subject to annual layoffs from the GM factory he never considered taking a job somewhere else.
It was as simple as his color.
As gregarious a person as he was, Kevin didn’t feel there would be a place for him among the all-white boys club of the firehouse - even though he knew everyone there and was on a first name basis with them. The same thing went for running for village office (although he was good friends with the village’s current mayor). It was the same thing with the job, GM even with the frequent layoffs at least had a benefits package that offered a certain amount of security and Kevin wasn’t sure with a high school education he would be able to find the same kind of opportunity outside of GM - especially being black.
As Kevin described it he had a goal (which he did in fact achieve) which was to make it to the age of 35 without winding up dead or in jail. When I think about it now it makes me really, really sad. Not that Kevin made his goal for which I am infinitely happy but, that our society is such, it made it really clear to him there was only so much he could expect.
All the guys I mentioned above were adult black men. Two out of the five of them are dead.
The two who’re dead died at young ages (somewhere between 45 and 55). It just came to mind because I was reading this story. I don’t profess to be an enlightened soul or above the pettiness which can embrace all of us to our detriment but, when I read stuff like this I realize most people out there (myself included) have no idea of what it is like to be black in America and to have to deal with this crap on a daily basis.
A few years back, I grew my hair long and it seemed in retrospect I was pulled over more, ticketed more and had more run ins with the police than I had ever had before in my life or since. It made me mad but, I could always cut my hair. Even though, I would normally be a “law and order” guy and give the benefit of a doubt to the cop, there’s just no way you can read or hear of something like this and not think it’s wrong. Especially coming on the heels of police lobbing flash/bang grenades into people’s houses. It just makes me think about how much in this country has to change.
No comments:
Post a Comment