Memories of the Delta

Reading the profile in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette on Robert S. Moore Jr. brought back a mix of joyful and sad memories. I have fond memories of his dad when he came to our area asking for our vote for sheriff of Desha County and offering me bubble gum. When I, a first- or second-grader, refused the gum, he said, “Aren’t you going to vote for me?”

I grew up as the son of a lowly sharecropper’s son — no running water, no indoor toilet, no vehicle, very little electricity and not even an electric fan. That was common. I once hoed cotton on the Pickens farm with me the only white person and kid as part of the work gang. I knew very little about the suffering of Black slaves that had once watered the rich soil with their blood, sweat and tears under a slave master. Nor did I know about the other travesty of USA citizens of Japanese ancestry having lost their property and freedom during World War II. That was not taught in school, and my parents themselves were just striving to survive.

I know some of the hardships of my Black friends Bob Nooner (RIP) and Henry Powell (RIP) who lived there and endured great hardships growing up in very difficult segregated situations only to finally rise due to their abilities in human resources and accounting after court battles gave them the freedom they deserved. I escaped the hardships of the Delta to enlist in the U.S. Navy for a career that blessed me by sending me to college and promotion to the highest enlisted rate of master chief.

I fondly remember working alongside Bob Nooner as we worked under a difficult boss. I had trouble kowtowing to that unreasonable and sometimes wicked boss, but Bob would give me his precious knowing smile and say, “All I do is just say, ‘yessir boss’ because I was used to that growing up.” Thankfully, as grown adults, we have the ability to forgive those who abuse us and move on. To do otherwise keeps us subservient to evil people for the rest of our lives.

JOHN J. EMMONS Hot Springs Village