Thank you, Donna! This story brought tears to my eyes, knowing I had the same experience as Darlene, missing out on so many potential African American friends in my childhood. I didn't make my first Black friend until I taught in a segregated high school in Montgomery, Alabama. I realized that year (1963) that my hometown of Kansas City, MO was just as racist as Montgomery but without the signs and visible cops, dogs and firehoses. Without the Alabama children jailed, their photos in the news. But just as segregated, just as racist. You write with such tenderness and compassion. Thanks also for our mutual friend Lea who introduced me to your writing.
I remember those days well including you and Carolyn showing up at Grant School. Our principal, Paul Fleeman, came to the classrooms and gave a speech basically saying. We’re going to have Negro children in our school. I don’t want any trouble and you’re going to like them. I think most of us did. FYI I only remember Debbie Patterson in the photo.
I remember your living on Ash. We lived on South Garth then Edgewood. My mother would drive us to Jeff Junior which would take us down Ash. Often we would see your dad walking to Douglas where I believe was his first assignment. Mom was excited that there was an African American in a leadership position at the Columbia Public Schools. We would wave at your Dad and he would wave back. Later your Dad was my guidance counselor at Hickman. My sophomore year he gently and earnestly said I wasn't putting enough effort into my classes. I stepped it up after that.
Thank you, Donna! This story brought tears to my eyes, knowing I had the same experience as Darlene, missing out on so many potential African American friends in my childhood. I didn't make my first Black friend until I taught in a segregated high school in Montgomery, Alabama. I realized that year (1963) that my hometown of Kansas City, MO was just as racist as Montgomery but without the signs and visible cops, dogs and firehoses. Without the Alabama children jailed, their photos in the news. But just as segregated, just as racist. You write with such tenderness and compassion. Thanks also for our mutual friend Lea who introduced me to your writing.
I remember those days well including you and Carolyn showing up at Grant School. Our principal, Paul Fleeman, came to the classrooms and gave a speech basically saying. We’re going to have Negro children in our school. I don’t want any trouble and you’re going to like them. I think most of us did. FYI I only remember Debbie Patterson in the photo.
I remember your living on Ash. We lived on South Garth then Edgewood. My mother would drive us to Jeff Junior which would take us down Ash. Often we would see your dad walking to Douglas where I believe was his first assignment. Mom was excited that there was an African American in a leadership position at the Columbia Public Schools. We would wave at your Dad and he would wave back. Later your Dad was my guidance counselor at Hickman. My sophomore year he gently and earnestly said I wasn't putting enough effort into my classes. I stepped it up after that.
Thank you far sharing your memory…”Gentle and honest” seem excellent words to use when describing him…plus “Super.”
❤️