Racism has been around a long time

In 1955, I was 11-yearsold. What I remember about racism was zero. However, my first thoughts about racism would come very shortly. I met a black boy at my school during summer vacation. During the summers back then, they had playground activities to keep young boys like me busy. I am using the word black instead of African American here, because it fits the time period.

This black boy and I ended up at my house. As I remember he rode his bike and was having problems with the brakes. I had tools because I was always fixing bikes as my two younger brothers had bikes. We weren’t at my house very long and I remember saying I would see him the next day at school. After I went in the house my father called me into the living room. I remember this part very clearly. My Dad said to me, “Dougie, I don’t care if you have black friends but don’t ever bring them in the house.” I never questioned my Dad, until I got married and moved away. I am sure I just said, “Yes, dad.” However, I will never forget it. You must remember my dad was born in 1920 and had a very strict dad. The South in 1955 still had bathrooms for whites and blacks. I never remember my dad saying the “N” word and he never said I could not play with black kids. I now believe that he was more concerned about what the neighbors thought. Adults have unwritten rules and regulations.

To jump ahead five years I played on the football team and was surrounded by black teammates. I call them teammates because we were a team and Herb Myers and Carl Kolanko, our coaches, told us we were. Period. I felt close to a few black teammates like Willy Day, John Johnson, Jim Foster, Jim White and George White. I was especially close to George White as we played next to one another and were always fooling around. It was great being part of a team. My point, we were not just a team but a very tiny society that had rules and regulations that we actually never thought about. We all just got along. When we were on the field playing or practicing I never thought about what color was George. He was my right tackle and I was his right end.

However, when the games were over George and I walked home our separate ways. We then entered a different society with different rules and regulations. How sad.