This Isn’t America

I tell the story often because it’s one of the days in my life that I’ll never forget. In fact, when I consider it all, I am back in the store and I can still see the rage.

There was a lot of rage.

It was 1974 in Largo, Florida.

The book I had my eye on was “Hammerin’ Hank.”

The story of Henry Aaron, of course.

Aaron was sitting at 713 homeruns that off-season and it only took him a week to beat Babe Ruth...and that was the problem.

A lot of white men didn’t want to see Aaron become the homerun king (even though Aaron has proved to be the classiest guy in all of sports).

The book was four dollars.

It took me awhile to earn the money, but I finally did, so Mom took me over to the gas station/store and I was thrilled that the book was still there. I ran to the counter and handed it to Mom.

Th man behind the counter looked at me, Mom and then the book. I was just nine years old, but I saw disgust on his face. I had no idea why he was mad.

“Why would you let him buy a book about a N?” He said.

It was the first time I’d heard the word.

I looked at Mom.

That’s where I saw the rage.

That was 1974.

When I read “Hammerin’ Hank” I was devastated to read about Aaron not being able to eat with his teammates, or having to drink from a different water fountain.

“Why?” I asked Mom.

“‘Cause people are stupid.”’

Can you believe that 44 years later (Aaron’s number, by the way), a couple of black men were asked to leave a Starbucks in Philadelphia.

I didn’t understand it in 1974, at 9 years old.

I understand it less now in 2018, at 53.

But I have an idea.

Mom nailed it.

“‘Cause people are stupid.”