I have to tackle a very very sensitive subject. I have a lot to say so it is going to take me two messages. My family, God bless them, were the last white family on our block on St Louis street in New Orleans.
The rest of the people were called “Negros”…”Darkies”…and “Colored”… Many times they would use the N word. I went to my father and asked him what that word meant. He put his hands on my shoulders and said. “Don’t you ever use this word “ and I never did.
What I noticed is that they had hair like me… All these years I have sported an Afro. LOL When I would come home from school I would go and sit on the stoops and talk with everybody. This lady would often ask me “Are you hungry son?” What a silly question. Before you knew it I was sitting there eating fried fish and rice.
One day she asked me if I liked bread puddings. She came out with a bowl of it. I would act silly and they would just laugh and laugh. At the end of the block there were two bars for “colored only.” I would go in the bar. At first they would look at me and ask “Would you like a drink white boy?” I would just say no … when I really wanted a Coke.
When I went to the park there were two water fountains there…one said “white” and one said “colored.” When nobody was looking I went over to the “colored” fountain and drank the water. Then I drank the water from the “white” fountain and guess what…they tasted the same. To be continued tomorrow…
Love,
Richard
