4th of july. 2011. riding the Natchez Trace. it was 444 miles of uninterrupted ahhhh. i take a nice little breather at tishomingo state park for the 4th, find like the last campsite & set my site. southerners have a different view of camping. they bring everything. i mean everything. i have seen kitchen sinks, so don’t discount anything. they are hunting, fishing & boating with all their relations, too- so they are using it all.
among the southerners, it is the height of rudeness, once your site is set, not to at least go introduce yourself, have a little pow-wow with- at the very, very least- your neighbors on either side. if you are social enough, keep it going on down the line to the bathrooms. you will be drinking a ton of coffee, beer, having a few small meals & whatnot, but this is the spice of life, baby! you never know who you are going to meet. rebels, poets & war heros-, the backbone of america is just the next site over. don’t dare deprive yourself.
so, this is what i do. this is why i’m happy down to my soul & it just can’t be taken away. why i crave a road trip every once in awhile for no apparent reason. i just gotta go meet strangers. every once in awhile though, i don’t know, the universe throws me a curve-ball. mr. smith, one of my favorite high school teachers & softball coach used to grouse at me because i would swing at the first pitch- without fail, in practice & in the game. the other team knew it too. they also knew i was a power hitter. but i’d swing at the first pitch. every single damn time. -you just can’t let one pass, can you? knowing you got a few more coming? he’d say. this day i did it again. willful ignorance pisses me off royally.
this is a beautiful park. everything on the Trace was well done & well taken care of. our National Parks are something to be proud of. i love exploring them. i go to the pool. first thing to happen is the police correcting me. my motorcycle isn’t parked in a real space. it was gravel & the paint & falling leaf stuff didn’t make it clear to me. i thought i was taking the last in a row. i was taking basically the dirt. so the cop is real friendly. we get into a conversation about where i’m from, he gets out & looks the bike over- a 1980 kawasaki 440 ltd. thrills bikers to no end. most bikers had one back in the day & they never fail to tell me. so they love seeing them (still can’t get good parts to save your life) & they can’t believe i’m going all over the country alone on this little old thing. he’s tickled. asking what all i do. mileage, distance in a day, how long i’ve been doing this, any problems-with the bike & being a woman alone & all, etc. sometimes i get a card, they write down a biker friend in the next state that i’m headed to. look them up, i’ll get a shit, shower & a shave. all that good stuff. a recommendation from a cop naturally comes high. veterans, too. mostly comes by gut feel after that. i have, here & there called that number. depends on how god-awful i feel. i understand ‘rolling into Nazareth about half past dead’.
so, off i go to the pool. toss my stuff down & sit on the steps that run the width. couldn’t be a more mellow day. huge barbecue for everyone being prepped on the other side of the pool for later in the day. kids playing & splashing. classic american noises going on that make a holiday. mother & baby playing just to my right. chubby little cherub with the brightest cherry lips you ever saw. he takes a look at me & brightens up even more- if that’s possible & reaches out for me. how could you not love that? his mother shrugs & hands her baby over. i hadn’t even been introduced. this awesome little thing actually had fat rolls, cooing at me. of course, i’m cooing back. di ja bo? di ja bo boo! i’m in love and nothing else matters. mom is talking to a latina chick behind her & the father comes up, nice & happy & sits down next to his wife. puts his arm around his her. kisses her. introduces everyone. i introduce myself. we get a little conversation going while i try not to be too selfish & try not to pinch all this lovable fat. i just wanna take a bite.
it wasn’t long before this blob of love wanted dad, so off he goes. it doesn't occur to me why the latina chick standing in the background isn’t getting in the pool. maybe she just doesn't like the water. it doesn't occur to me that she’s the only non-white person in the whole fenced in area. we are all three sitting there talking. sometimes i jokingly grouse that southerners don’t see marylanders as southern even though we are below the mason-dixon line. -why is that? we don’t have the accent? -no, we were on the wrong side in the civil war, he says. -Wow! i kind of always thought that was so by at least a number of real rebels, but i had never heard it. i thanked him for saying it! still i took no warning. dumb-ass.
our conversation bounced around. i should have dug around that comment a bit more, i suppose. still, i ended up hitting the nail on the head. he had some cool tattoos. he had a bright red something really kinda classic simplistically pretty on his lower leg, so i asked about. -well, that’s KKK & you can’t get one of those unless you are an active member!
and we were off! -OH MY GOD!
i’m not really clear on the string of bullshit that started coming out of my mouth in the very beginning. it’s a blur. something about ignorance & that’s what keeps america from getting over itself & yada yada yada. i do remember the looks on their faces & the silence i was met with. i do remember when he stood up. i do remember when two of his buddies- big mother fuckers- started coming towards me. he joined them. all three of them facing me now.
uh-oh. i think i’m in for a beating. well, it’s the old conundrum. run & they’ll chase you. you’ll only be tired & still get a beating. stay- commit, make your case, if you can & take your beating for your principals. it’s something, at least. well, my mind is already made up. one day this may not work for me. this may be the day.
so, i stood up. i took a few steps forward. mom & baby, you know, plus, i wasn’t gonna be backing up in front of this fuckers, or tripping on that step & looking like a fool. i started in as they slowly came toward me as one big white line. pointed finger & getting louder the madder, more alarmed & really, scarder i got.
-you gotta be kidding me! you’re fucking problem is lack of education. you guys double down on the same rhetoric generation after generation instead of walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. really living the other guy’s life. he’s just trying to do right by his woman, his children & people, same as you. he’s just entrenched in the way he behaves because that’s the way he’s treated, same as you, so that’s the way he treats others. you dumb shits! get out of your caves, stop sacrificing yourselves & your sons to an idea & go find out the nitty-gritty, gut-shot truth, as it stands today, not 100 years ago. where you FORCED them in the first place! walk a mile, assholes! so, if we’re gonna do this? if you’re gonna beat me in front of 100 of your neighbors, you’re gonna beat me because i’m just as committed as you are. so, let’s have at it! i ain’t backin’ up!
so loud. the place was silent. they weren't five feet in front of me by the time i was done. my finger pointed right at the biggest guy. really really loud. the biggest fucker, on the end & closest to me, looks over at the other two, he shrugs his shoulders & says with a slight laugh -eegh! she’s still a white girl. she can come to the barbecue. -yeah? well, no thank you. i’ll be eatin’ with the darkies. they’re more fun!
i took that as my cue to get out of the pool, but i spent the night at least. i ate at the ‘alternative’ table. damn if they didn’t have one. way on the other side of the picnic area. the latina chick was there. i sat next to her, as she was the only one i recognized. she was silent. i didn’t stay long. it was pretty damn quiet as it was. there was the guy that had command of the tongs. he kept giving me the wide grin & big nod. made latina chick put her head down further every time. made me laugh a little. damn good ribs though. lord, i love southern food.
Do you recognize the privilege you experienced? That is something to be grateful for. A white man, a dark woman, a black man; they would have been stomped in someway. But a cute little thing like you? Harmless! Maybe you're the reason the "latina chick" was so quiet. Maybe she was terrified she was going to be associated with you and suffer some retaliation.
ReplyDeleteYes, with age & experience, i am very aware of not only the dangers I surrounded myself with by "swinging at the first pitch" but also what I've possibly placed others in, in the long term. I've spent a lifetime being "the only white woman for a mile around" & that knife cuts both ways. Always. This is my point. A Lesson. Not a brag. I got very disillusioned with doing mission work & struck out on my own. I found that, God help me, I hope I was more of a Help, not to cause worse. I did give of my time, my talents, my money, effort & energy endlessly. I reached a point where I retired from bullshit. I have chilled out & have a ton of patience now, to the point that it takes directly disturbing me & my house to get a response, pretty much. Oh, or be hurting someone.
ReplyDeleteIt does not mean that I can sit idly by, though, and pretend that everything is going swimmingly when confronted with horror. To have heard the words that I did that day. I only do my best these days. No more.