Outrage rekindled

We had visitors from Los Angeles who told us to see Green Book. When it opened at Te Ahu, we were there for the first showing.

The movie took me back to 1962, when I was passing through Alabama. A gridiron mate and I were coming back from a visit with my family in Florida. Our car broke down in Demopolis, which was a town about the size of Kaitaia. Waiting for the repairs, we stayed in the local hotel.

Bored, we wandered the town. One afternoon we were searching for chilli, and went into a side-street cafe. As we walked in, everybody got up and went out the back. We just sat down. Eventually a waitress came out. She told us, “We can’t serve you.”

“Why not, we just want some of your chilli?”

“We can only serve coloured people.” “We’re from California. We don’t care what colour people are.”

When I said that, a smile beamed on her face and the people came from the back laughing.

Later that day we were walking the main street and saw a group of teenage boys staring in the drug store window. As we came up, they stepped back and stood in the gutter.

“You don’t need to stand in the gutter for us. Don’t ever step in the gutter for anybody.”

I then looked through the window. They were watching the soda fountain which was filled with white kids. “Would you like to be in there?” “Yes, sir.” I lost it, and went in and called out the manager. I can’t repeat what I said, but I threatened him.

Another day (two years before MLK arrived) I hitched to Selma, where I had a wander around.

Later, when I stood by the highway back to Demopolis, no one picked me up. It looked like I would be stuck, when a Model T stopped. An old black couple welcomed me in. When we got to the turn off for Demopolis, the driver stopped and let me off. I didn’t realise then, but he couldn’t go into town with a white boy in his car.

In ’65, when I got back from overseas, the army assigned me to Maywood Army Depot, which was located next to Watts. As the riots raged outside, the black soldiers were restricted to base. The theory was that trained black soldiers had to be kept off the streets.

I was put in charge of these soldiers, so I took them to the motor pool and set up races. As long as they were racing, they stayed on the base. At one point a staff sergeant carrying an automatic weapon sauntered up to me.

“I just machine gunned a grandmother and her grandchild.” I exploded, and threatened to turn him over to the black soldiers.

At lunch time the officers all ate at an elevated long table with linens. They were served by black soldiers in white. The black soldiers went through the chow line. I sat with them.

Finally I couldn’t take it any more. I got up on my chair and read an antiVietnam poem I had written. The soldiers just stared silently at me, the officers were shocked, and the CO’s head dropped forward into his plate. I got in my car and left. I never did another day of duty.

In ’83, my wife Nuu and I flew from Maui to the mainland for our honeymoon.

When we got to LA, I took her to my childhood home. When I got out of the car I was surrounded with angry black people. “Are you a cop?”

“No, this is where I was born.” They all smiled and welcomed me. We flew on to Florida to visit rellies One night Nuu and I were trying to find our way back to the family home. We were on the interstate and going slowly.

Soon I noticed a pick-up truck was tailing us. When we sped up, he sped up. I did a U-turn and he did a U-turn. Then I noticed the rifle in his gun rack.

Eventually we found the road to my grandparents’ house and the truck drove on.

I told my uncle about being followed. He said that we were lucky.

“Usually they will kill a mixed race couple and just leave them by the road.”

I have many of these recollections, but in defence of southerners and the family that adopted me, there was never any cruelty towards ‘coloured’ people. Their lives intertwined but usually didn’t intermingle.

I ’83, like the final Christmas scene in Green Book, Nuu made a luau for my grandfather’s birthday. Her luau was featured in the local newspaper. She was “brown as a berry”, and they just loved her.

"I told my uncle about being followed. He said that we were lucky. ‘Usually they will kill a mixed race couple and just leave them by the road."

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MIKE WARD

Mangonui