Reflections

by George Boise

A White Boy's Reflection of Black History

I remember the race riots when the late, great Reverend King was assassinated. Those were some really bad times in our history. What was really hard for me was that a lot of my friends were black. Eisenhower got tore up!

People were runnin’ down the halls bustin’ heads, throwing each other down stairs and out windows, throwing rocks at cars and busses.

People were insane with hate.

Things have changed a lot since 1968. Actually they had come a long way in 1968 from where they were in ‘58.

I remember when I was a kid circa 1958, My dad had a friend who lived in Robbins. One time we were visiting and I was running around the neighborhood with his kids. It was like being out in the country. Dirt roads, big fields, and huge gardens with towering sunfl owers and sweet corn. We were such an oddity. Everyone came out to see the white folks. I had a lot of fun runnin’ barefoot thru the fields catchin’ snakes and snatchin’ apples. Kids!

It was around this time that Emmett Till got beat to death for whistling at a white woman. We didn’t know nothing about that--we were just kids. Kids don’t hate kids play. By ‘68 it was okay for a black man to whistle at a white woman and vise versa. By ‘78 it was kinda’ common for black kids and white kids to date each other. By 1988 interracial marriages were as common as White Castle hamburgers. By ‘98 I don’t think anyone even raised an eyebrow anymore at seeing interracial couples.

Oh yeah, there is still prejudice and bigotry--always will be. My point is we’ve come a long way since ‘58. But think how far race relations in 1958 had come from 1858. Man, that was a shameful time in our history. 200 years of slavery. I don’t care if you are black, white, or whatever: I want everybody who hasn’t read “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” to go get it now. Talk about man’s inhumanity to man. Hitler and Simon LeGree could have been brothers. They, for sure, had the same father.

You know what I don’t understand? Why is it bad to be an “Uncle Tom?” The Uncle Tom in this book is a man to be admired and emulated. I should want to be half the man old Tom was. I would be honored to be called Uncle Tom, but alas my name’s George. I have never seen anyone in real life or portrayed in print so loving, humble, and Godlike. Such quality of character you will never find in this life I’ll wager.

Well, I reckon I’ve rambled on long enough now--but where’s that gospel message? How about this? Red and yellow, black and white we’re all precious in His sight, cause God is color blind. He only sees red. The blood of His son the great equalizer. Rich man, poor man, beggar man, or thief. Butcher, baker candlestick maker, or chief. It doesn’t matter who you are-where you come from- what you’ve done-ohaven’t done. God loves you and wants you to join His family. What do you say? If you’re tired of runnin, come on Home.

your brother,
george