the next guy
Superstar
My dad was not raised in the South but he recalled a "visit" to relatives in Mississippi as a kid.
African-Americans were in line at some store, and a white man stepped ahead of them in line. My father stepped back in front of him, reminding him that they were there first.
My great-aunt snatched him back, quick, with "the look" that said "be quiet."
The white man shot a look at them, like they were crazy.
He didn't understand what was going on, and no one ever explained it after the fact.
Ten years ago, when he went to Laurel, MS for his aunt's funeral, he returned shell-shocked. To him, the local black people were still "afraid." Subservient. Apart. He keeps telling us "they live in another time, down there."
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Damn...
