The year was 1961, and my parents were building their dream home in Tennessee. Mother and I had driven to the new house to meet a contractor on a hot August Saturday morning.
When we arrived, saws were buzzing, and men with hammers were pounding nails into rafters. Mom and the contractor tried to converse over the racket, and I began to stroll over to the vacant lot next to ours. A large oak tree on the far side beckoned me to come to enjoy her shade and quiet.
“Where are you going?” A voice startled me, and I quickly turned around to see a boy speaking to me.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you jump!”
I met his gaze just as the sun caught the sprinkling of gold dust in his dark hazel eyes. His eyelashes curled up to his eyebrows, and his perfect teeth gleamed as he flashed a broad smile. He was stunning.
After the introductions, we ran and played in the vacant lot until we tired. Then we sat under the big oak tree to talk. Henry was thirteen and the son of the nice contractor Mom was meeting with.
After a while, we headed back to the partially built house. Henry was a few steps behind me when he yelled, “Don’t move, Lynn!”
I stopped dead still.
There was a large snake coiled in the tall grass in front of me.
Henry was able to calm me and keep my usual hysteria over such creepy, crawly creatures at bay as he directed me where to step so I could get around the snake.
When we reached my mother, I told her about the snake, introduced her to my new friend, and the three of us walked toward our car.
We waved goodbye, and as we did, tears welled in my eyes because I instinctively knew I would never see Henry again.
“Why are you upset?” Mama asked.
When I told her why, she understood and said, “It is sad, but you are right; you probably will not see the nice young man again.”
I, indeed, never did. Sixty years have passed, and yet I still recall the beautiful boy who saved me from the snake and talked with me under the shade of the oak tree.
Henry was African American, went to another school, and in the 1960s, it was often unacceptable to be close friends with someone of another race or, worse, to find them attractive.
I was born and bred in the segregated South, yet I never understood any form of racism. As a child, I remember thinking bigotry was absurd and wondered why folks judged people by the way they looked, the way they talked, or the color of their skin. I felt it was anti-God to do so. I still do.
Mama must have thought the same because I never heard her say a disparaging word about anyone. I recall this woman of few words, declaring once, “What’s race got to do with anything? Whether a person is good or evil doesn’t have a thing to do with the color of their skin!”
Because this exceptional person was my mother, hatred, and bias were not taught to me in words or actions. How grateful I am for her intelligence.
Do we really believe God judges us by the way we look? Or aren’t we judged by the actions of our souls? What if God created humans of different ethnicities, cultures, and colors to enable us to see with our hearts instead of our eyes? What if He is giving us a big ol’ test?
I know many folks who will need to go to summer school or be expelled if that is the case. There are people of all ethnicities who pass blame, resentment, and meanness down through many generations.
We ponder why there has been so much hatred and anti-everything in America. White Supremacist groups, terrorist groups, anti-Semitic groups, anti-Latino groups, anti-Asian, and anti-Caucasian groups are swelling. Organizations with messages that encourage hatred and violence.
Do they not understand they are hurting themselves, our country, and God?
Americans have made many steps toward equality since 1961, but there are still snakes in the grass waiting to cause harm, ready to upend strides forward and ready to strike at common sense and decency.
To save us from their evil, may we all exhibit honor and kindness so it shines like the sprinkling of gold dust in a young boy’s eyes.
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Lynn Walker Gendusa is an author and columnist whose work appears regularly on NowHabersham.com and in USA Today newspapers. Her latest book is “Southern Comfort: Stories of Family, Friendship, Fiery Trials, and Faith.” She can be reached at www.lynngendusa.com.
