what about bob?

The S.O. and I travelled to Denver this weekend to attend a Jewish wedding. I'd never had to wear a yarmulke and I learned "Havah Nagila" in a Presbyterian Vacation Bible School, so it was a cultural experience for me. Especially since the bride (one of the S.O.'s closest friends) was in the eye of a storm that might be referred to by unimaginative Hollywood writers as "My Big Fat Jewish Wedding."

The night before the wedding we talked with "Uncle Bob" at a dinner for the out-of-town guests. When Uncle Bob learned we were from Amarillo, he all but said "Oy!" Bob knew a little about Amarillo. He had travelled there on weekends when he was a young serviceman stationed in Clovis in the 1950s. What he remembered—and was still shocked by—was that Amarillo had separate black and white drinking fountains.

Not that Clovis had been any better. Bob told us a story about how he and his friend, a black serviceman, had gone out one night to go to a movie at the theater in Clovis. The usher had informed them that Bob's friend would have to sit upstairs in the back. Bob was appalled and demanded their money back. He went straight back to the base and told his C.O. about the incident.

Bob's C.O. sent out a memo to the base the next day: no one serving in Clovis would be allowed to attend movies at that theater so long as the policy stood.

Giving Bob a story to tell at weddings half a century later.

He smiled as he advised us that the theater's racist policy was changed immediately.

I repeat the story here because sometimes, in times like these when we struggle under the oppression of the dark Emperor, it's good to take a moment to remember the fights, small and large, that were won a long time ago.

SPACEDARK