I never “got” the prejudice thing. I was raised in the fifties. My father was a farmer and had white and black workers. My father or mother never showed a difference in one or the other. My father would lend money to one as the other. One named, Black, would come to the house often. Just this last Christmas I was called from the son of o…
I never “got” the prejudice thing. I was raised in the fifties. My father was a farmer and had white and black workers. My father or mother never showed a difference in one or the other. My father would lend money to one as the other. One named, Black, would come to the house often. Just this last Christmas I was called from the son of one of my dad’s workers. Yes he is black. But I see the black is different from my skin but as God, I look at the heart of man. Yes, segregation happened when I was young. A bus driver quit rather than drive the blacks. There was a few fights at school. I just sat back and wondered what the hell the deal was. I worked with a black woman. Taught her how to drive. Picked her up and brought her home when I found she had to get a taxi. We call one another every special occasion. She sends me pictures of her grandbabies going off to school each year. We call one another “sister”. Why? Why the hate? Why hate a skin color? We all bleed the same red. We all get each other blood when needed. We are the same!!! Good grief. Lord I still don’t understand after these 50 years.
I never “got” the prejudice thing. I was raised in the fifties. My father was a farmer and had white and black workers. My father or mother never showed a difference in one or the other. My father would lend money to one as the other. One named, Black, would come to the house often. Just this last Christmas I was called from the son of one of my dad’s workers. Yes he is black. But I see the black is different from my skin but as God, I look at the heart of man. Yes, segregation happened when I was young. A bus driver quit rather than drive the blacks. There was a few fights at school. I just sat back and wondered what the hell the deal was. I worked with a black woman. Taught her how to drive. Picked her up and brought her home when I found she had to get a taxi. We call one another every special occasion. She sends me pictures of her grandbabies going off to school each year. We call one another “sister”. Why? Why the hate? Why hate a skin color? We all bleed the same red. We all get each other blood when needed. We are the same!!! Good grief. Lord I still don’t understand after these 50 years.