Oklahoma City, OK, 1939
Though this was new and risky business, it appealed to his entrepreneurial spirit, his love of taking risks. It sounded fun and exciting and reminded him of the time, he drove street cars up and down the streets of Baltimore, seeing new faces and making friends along the way.
Sonny intuitively felt this was a good opportunity to test his capabilities. In addition, he was rather disillusioned with the lack of appreciation for hardworking employees in large businesses. He would take a dive an agree to drive the rig for the owner, deliver large loads in short periods and receive a sizeable percentage of the revenue. Perhaps, one day, he would have his own rig, Sonny thought dreamily. Then he could spend more time at home helping Anne watch the house and take care of the kids and the St E’s patients that were like family.
A week later, Sonny began working for Phillip, a black entrepreneur. Sonny found him an affable person and immediately trusted him with his family’s name. Sonny’s job took him from the sunny Keys to the beautiful Maine coastlines and back to Washington DC. He enjoyed traveling, which stimulated his sense of adventure and heightened his awareness of the atmosphere and culture of new places. He worked with a sense of dedication and drove many hours all through the night.His religious economizing paid off with the receipt of a handsome turnover which he presented to Phillip over the few months he worked for him. Sonny was smoking. He made a profit of at least 15 cents per mile. Sonny also benefited through higher remuneration that made a significant difference towardspaying off his mortgage. The biggest drawback of the job, however, was the strain it placed on his marriage, for Sonny and Anne were compelled to spend many days and many more nights away from each other. While Anne toiled hard taking care of the St E’s patients single-handedly,
Sonny logged long hours on the road -- it all started to take a toll on their relationship, on their marriage, on their well being.
Wherever he drove, Sonny heard rile and revolting stories of runaway discrimination all over the Deep South, and and towards the northern edges of Richmond, VA. Sonny hoped that there would never be a day when he would himself become a victim of harsh racial discrimination that was not prevalent in the Army.
View Larger MapHe was just outside Warner Robbins, Georgia, in the custody of a Smoky Bear who would enjoy nothing more than to put him behind bars.
Sonny sighed. “I’ll see how much I got.” He had fifty dollars! That was nearly all the money he had to his name.
Wherever he drove, Sonny heard rile and revolting stories of runaway discrimination all over the Deep South, and and towards the northern edges of Richmond, VA. Sonny hoped that there would never be a day when he would himself become a victim of harsh racial discrimination that was not prevalent in the Army.
He saw too much separation at dining establishments, washrooms, public transportation; there were even separate water coolers.
Sonny could not believe such discrimination was mandated by the state governments.
From Wikipedia: "Jim Crow Laws"
The Jim Crow laws were state and local laws in the United States enacted between 1876 and 1965. They mandated de jure racial segregation in all public facilities, with a supposedly "separate but equal" status forblack Americans. In reality, this led to treatment and accommodations that were usually inferior to those provided for white Americans, systematizing a number of economic, educational and social disadvantages.
Some examples of Jim Crow laws are the segregation of public schools, public places and public transportation, and the segregation of restrooms and restaurants for whites and blacks. The U.S. military was also segregated. These Jim Crow Laws were separate from the 1800-66 Black Codes, which had also restricted the civil rights and civil liberties of African Americans. State-sponsored school segregation was declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court of the United States in 1954 in Brown v. Board of Education. Generally, the remaining Jim Crow laws were overruled by the Civil Rights Act of 1964[1] and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
It had been a grueling day of hard work. Sonny had just hauled a truckload of furniture and Serta mattresses at a local warehouse, and he was more than ready to finally sleep soundly under his own comforter next to the woman he loved.
With no load to carry he was planning to drive straight home to be back in DC by sunset. Sonny had just left town and was cruising easily on the highway, when he saw in the rear view mirror, a state trooper advancing on him, sirens blasting as if the Governor was in town.
That’s weird, Sonny thought. He quickly glanced at the dashboard. Cruising at a comfortable 45 mph, he was well within speed limits. The trooper couldn’t be stopping him. Nothing seemed to be happening on the road either -- everything seemed in order. He pulled over to let the trooper pass him. Incredibly, the trooper pulled right behind him and when he got out of his cruiser, Sonny could see from his rear view mirror, a tall, lanky man wearing a wide-brimmed hat hanging low just over his eyebrows. Sonny rolled down the window.
“Good Morning sir. What seems to be the problem, officer?”
“You were speeding—going 60 in a 45 mph zone.”
“I’m afraid, this is a huge mistake. Don’t think I was going any faster than 40 since I left Warner Robbins.”
The officer gazed hard at Sonny. His eyes strained upwards under his thick eyebrows. “Get out,” he shouted. His eyes all of a sudden turned dark and sinister.
Sonny stepped out and gently closed the door behind him.
“What are you carrying in here,” the officer asked. “Anything I should know?”
”Nothing officer. I just offloaded my entire load—all the furniture I carried down from upstate New York and now I’m heading back home to DC to spend some quality time with family.”
The officer’s expression was one of utter disbelief. “By the way, you were speeding, I could tell you were definitely on the way home. Has it been that long since you’ve had a piece of ass? But let me see for myself whether or not you’re going home with a full load of whatever you’re carrying or whether you’re going home empty handed.”
Sonny was surprised at this turn of events, but he remained unperturbed. He opened the back of the rig and allowed the officer inside, showing him an empty rig that only had piles and piles of furniture pads and skins, straps and a bucket full of tie downs.
The officer surveyed the scene. He went over to the piles of pads, kicked them hard and said brazenly, “I believe I could use some of these.” He then grabbed the best-looking pads, opened the trunk of his cruiser and shoved them all in.
What next, Sonny thought. Did the officer see all he needed to see. Would he be allowed to go? He waited patiently as the officer seemed to contemplate the next step.
He then beckoned Sonny and pointed to the back seat of his cruiser. “Get in,” he shouted.
Oh, Lawd, what is this now, Sonny thought. This doesn’t look good at all. He wasn’t under arrest, yet he would be under the custody of a police officer who was at racist as it gets. What was the offense? Did he even dare to ask?
Sonny got in and wondered what would happen next. As he sat down, gruesome scenes raced through his mind. Particularly, the memory of Medgar Evers, an African American civil rights activist, gunned down just outside his Mississippi home.
Or the images of the three civil rights workers who journeyed to Mississippi to investigate the murder but became tragic victims instead.
He wouldn’t hurt me. There are too many truckers out on the road today. Besides, it’s broad daylight. Sonny was too engrossed with fear that it took him a while to notice what was lying next to him -- a mint Remington 12-gauge shotgun, semi-automatic with a gold trigger.
He had handled one of these before, in the Army at the shooting range. His good friend in the infantry had his own personal gun and would show Sonny how to take it apart and clean it like it was his own pride and joy. A primitive and instinctual part of him wanted to pick it up and feel the cold steel on his hand. Wanted to look inside the bore and see how clean it was. But then reality set in. He was no longer in Ft. Bragg with the 82nd Airborne.
View Larger MapHe was just outside Warner Robbins, Georgia, in the custody of a Smoky Bear who would enjoy nothing more than to put him behind bars.
He thought about his boss, Phillip, who was relying on him to bring back the workhorse that meant more to him than a roof over his head. Of Anne and his newborn kids who relied on his income to put food on the table and to pay the utilities and the house payments. He couldn’t do any of these inside a cold, musty, Georgia prison cell. Or worse, shot and dead and lying on the side of a backwoods road while buzzards circled above and cars ocassionally zipped by like you were dead possum roadkill or something.
A cold fear swept through him as he stared speechlessly at the officer as he wrote the ticket, taking his time as if there were no other traffic on the road and Sonny was his one prized kill. As the minutes ticked on, Sonny became more and more apprehensive. Wondered if he would ever see Anne again. Finally, the officer lifted his head and gave Sonny an icy stare.
“What’s a nigger boy like you driving such a fast rig like this. It sure is fast, but is it hot as in hot wheel, hot?”
Sonny looked aghast. This couldn’t be happening to him. “No way officer, the rig belongs to my associate, Phillip Johnson. I’ve got the Title and all the requisite paperwork inside my glove compartment. Would you like to see for yourself?”
The officer stared at Sonny incredulously. “Well, my, we’ve got here a smart ass niggar who also knows how to read. Don’t show me no dumbass title. You best instead listen closely and read what I’m about to hand you – that is if you value your life.”
Sonny looked long and hard at the piece of paper in front of his eyes. $25 was the only figure that popped up, the only thing that caught his attention.
“But, you know what? Since you’re going back to DC, there’s no sense in me issuing this ticket today. Why don’t you just give me $50 cash right now and I’ll rip up this ticket to little bitty pieces. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll even mix it with my fresh Virginia tobacco and smoke it in my pipe. That way you don’t have to come back to God’s country just to show up for court. And you’ll be guaranteed not to spend a night in jail.”
Sonny sighed. “I’ll see how much I got.” He had fifty dollars! That was nearly all the money he had to his name. Sonny reached for his wallet, counted up his money. Two fives, a ten and 10 singles -- “$25 is all I got to offer. Plus, I need a little money to top off the fuel tank and perhaps a cup of coffee and a sandwich.”
The officer looked at Sonny with indifference and suddenly noticed his bright, shiny watch. “Let me see that,” he yelled.
Sonny took off his watch and handed it reluctantly to the officer.
“Well it does tell time,” Sonny replied. “It’s 17 jewels and it’s taken me to over a dozen states and back without ever missing a beat. “
“I tell you what. Why don’t I keep this watch. I see it means a lot to you. When you get back to DC, send me the money and I’ll return the watch. That a deal?”
“But officer, this is my vintage Benrus,” Sonny pleaded. “It is a special gift from my mother when I joined the Army. It’s reliable and trustworthy and took me to muster on time throughout my tours at Ft Meade and Ft Bragg. Anything but my Benrus, officer, please.”
“No sir. I wanted to go, but I stayed home and trained others to go instead. I joined in 48, straight out of high school and got out in 53, after Truman gave everyone another year of service.”
“Well, I tell you what. I’ve never been nice to a nigger, but I do have respect for any man who serves our country and is willing to put his life on line for what this country stands for.”
The officer rubbed the face of the watch then rubbed his chin methodically. He silently admired the beautifully etched dial, the gold face with antique finish and the dark leather band.
“Alright Mister. You served my country. You paid your dues. You go home. But don’t let me ever catch you in this neck of the woods again unless you want to become a permanent resident of the jail house or you’re coming back to pay your dues.”
“Thank you very much sir. You've been extremely kind and gracious. God Bless You and your family! From the bottom of my heart, I sincerely appreciate you letting me go and also keep my prized watch.”
Sonny swore never to visit Warner Robbins again, even if he had to drive an extra 100 miles to return home. In the end, the officer appealed to patriotism and turned nominally sympathetic. But it was a close call and any option including going to locked up or getting shot up were distinct and real possibilities -- terrifying enough for Sonny to never ever come back.
Oklahoma City, OK, 1939, Courtesy of Wikipedia, Photograph by Russell Lee,
Somebody should read this & take interest in your book. Good show!
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