My parents: Colorblind in a Segregated World

It was October, 1962.  My mother had just married my dad at the height of the Cuban Missile Crisis and to make matters worse, they were headed south on a car trip to Florida, exactly where the Cuban missiles were pointed.  Relatives strongly suggested they change their destination but being 21 and knowing it all, they listened only to their hearts. 
Even their guest list caused a stir. You see, my mother worked at Detroit Rehabilitation Center as she studied for her beauty licence in Cosmetology.  She worked with, what we Caucasians casually called "colored people" back then and Mom wanted the folks she saw every day to be a part of her joy.  Upon receiving their fancy invites, these co-workers came to my mom at work and, in hushed tones, told her they would have to decline.  They assumed she would understand.

While every other person of color respectfully declined Mom's invitation, one gal in Mom's department, Bess, was especially close to Mom and she felt terrible when Mom confided to in her sadness that the others would not be attending. Bess, being a few years older and wiser than my mother, reminded Mom of  how her "white kin" might react to having "colored people" sitting at dinner among all those white folk. The others declined, said Bess, as a sign of affection for my mother's reputation.  Let me pause here for us all to reflect on this. Can you imagine a world where people of any other origin than Caucasian would cause controversy simply by attending your wedding.  Naturally, Mom assumed Bess too, would not attend.

My parents' wedding, by all accounts, was quite the festivity.  As I've alluded to in previous blogs, my mother had a disease that doctors believed would take her life before she'd reach her teen years.
The fact that she lived to marrying age, alone, was cause for celebration, not to mention she was the only daughter of an Italian family so I hear it was QUITE the wedding party. 

Now, back to the "colored people."  According to mom, the big day went off with only a few hitches, one of which was morning rain..... but the biggest "hitch" came later that evening, far after the reception dinner, fit for a king, was served.  The party was going on strong.  The live band played, intermixed with Italian accordion music, and a great deal of imbibing, as I can only imagine.  Enter.....the "colored people."

Mom and Dad's reception was jumping, dancing was non-stop and from the pictures I have, the room was elbow-to-elbow. Whil hugging someone and looking over the person's shoulder, Mom glanced at the doorway to see a couple standing there, looking terribly awkward and lost. It was BESS and her husband!  Excusing herself from the hugger, Mom grabbed her new husband and dashed  to the doorway and -- in front of whomever was present -- hugged Bess and her husband tightly, thanking them again and again for coming. 
But why did they miss dinner, asked Mom?  Bess explained it would be easier that way, so as not to stir up trouble.  This was simply NOT OK at an Italian wedding!  Mom and Dad grabbed Bess and her husband, proudly ushering them to the back kitchen -- as others watched -- and asked the chefs to fix up a full plate of food for their guests.  They were welcome to eat out at their table, Mom told them, but Bess preferred that she and her husband eat in the kitchen. 

Years later, Mom would say she was so happy Bess braved any such possible "stir" and attended the wedding.  To Mom's utter joy, she watched Bess and her husband later feel welcome enough to enjoy a few slow dances with nary a sign of anger from any of Mom or Dad's "kin."  How proud she and Dad felt!

Just two days later, en route to Florida, the honeymooners stopped for a bite to eat at a small southern diner.  As was customary in those days, it was a non-issue to see signs on the doors and in windows of nearly any restaurant or store: "We reserve the right not to serve colored people" or "No colored people allowed."  Worse yet, "Please visit YOUR own dining establishments."  Can you even imagine this today?

The white proprietor stopped the man at the doorway but the "colored" man politely reassured the owner he was simply in need of directions, his family was in the car and they were running low on gasoline.

"I told ya, boy," said the owner in a booming voice, "Ya can't be in my diner, now get on down the road, there are places that can help 'your people' just a few blocks from here."

That's all it took for my dad, a skinny white man from Detroit, to lose his cool.  OK, so Dad, at 70, is still a hothead to this day. (Thankfully I did NOT inherit his short fuse..ummmm... so OK, full disclosure, Mom had one too so it's in the gene pool, what can I say?? ;)   From Mom's account,Dad abruptly jumped from his seat and ran to the doorway to intercede on the lost man's behalf, reminding the owner the man simply needed directions.  The owner patted my dad's shoulder dismissively, calling him "son" and asking him to "mind his peace."

Not easily dismissed, Daddy did what any young man feeling like he could take on the world with his young bride beside him might do.... he pulled a John Wayne.  He hauled off and landed a punch squarely on the owner's jaw! As waiters scurried to help up their boss, Dad left the diner with the stunned lost man beside him.  The "colored" man, perhaps in his 30s, thanked Dad profusely but cautioned him to not lose his temper like that , because a young man could get himself killed over such actions down south.

Daddy simply grabbed his road map and handed it to the man, whose family was by now piling out of their car to see what had happened.  Sadly, Daddy knew it would be easier for him to get a new road map than for this "colored" man to do the same.  The two men shook hands and the wives exchanged pleasantries before both sides returned to their cars and went their separate ways. They never met again.

As we celebrate Black history Month, my challenge to you is to stand up against whatever prejudices you see. The next time you see someone being bullied or discriminated against.... for whatever reason, I ask you to be brave and stand up for that person. You will NEVER be sorry about what you stood up for, only for what you turned a blind eye against. As Dr. King once said, he had a dream that one day a person would be judged on the merit of his character.... not the color of his skin. May we all be colorblind and be like the young newlyweds from Detroit, two people I proudly call Mom and Dad.