#1: The Streets Were Burning

April 6, 1968, Washington, D.C.

By MARY GROPP

I was almost 9 and very excited about my upcoming birthday. Suddenly, and without warning, my 8-year-old world was forever altered by what was coming out of our black-and-white family television.

“There has been an unconfirmed report that the Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. has been shot. Stay tuned to this channel.” Ultimately, that report was confirmed, with raw details coming hourly.

At the time, I didn’t know much about the world at large, but I did know that Dr. King was a very special man who spoke all the time about everyone living together in peace and eliminating hatred from our lives. His message seemed to me to be a part of the culture at that time - not a message I associated with civil rights.

I was raised in a family that taught tolerance, and I didn’t know what the impact of things like segregation and discrimination meant. It was clear to me, however, that something awful had happened. People were crying and sad on the television.

My father, always an adventurer, decided that he wanted a closer look in order to make sense of conflicting reports and rumors. After all, there was no Internet then; we had only the radio and television as sources of information.

So he piled my mother, sister, and me into the family station wagon, and we headed for Northeast D.C., via New York Avenue, from our quiet upper-middle-class Cheverly neighborhood.

All of us quickly knew the mistake this little drive was. The streets were burning, people were rioting, and mayhem was the norm. We narrowly escaped injury - and possibly death - as my father drove with reckless abandon trying to get us away from the mob storming our car with Molotov cocktails and baseball bats, and screaming that we killed “him.” We killed “him,” and now we would be killed.

We arrived home unharmed, except for the car, and speechless at the level of terror this experience held. Ultimately, my never-ending stream of questions was answered, meaning that I now knew what it felt like to be hated, as well as the fear associated with discrimination.

Decades went by before some neighborhoods lost the stigma associated with broken windows and boarded-up houses.

This is Mary Gropp’s first time being published. She has always been told that she has a knack for writing but has never pursued it as a career.

#2: One Hundred Men Carrying Torches

1968, New Orleans, Louisiana

By GEORGE RAMIREZ

I didn’t experience the Age of Aquarius in the 1960s. Being a Latino minority whose family immigrated to the Irish District of New Orleans in 1961, I was the subject of humiliation and hatred, not only by whites but by blacks as well.

Once we learned English, things changed somewhat. I became fascinated by TV, as we had never had one in the old country. After everyone would go to bed, I would sneak back to the living room in the dark to watch. The only light emanating would come from the TV set. I would watch until the Indian test pattern came on, signaling that the few stations that existed would be going off the air.

One night, I was watching the news about the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. I soon noticed light coming through the window shades. The light seemed odd, as it kept going up and down in the same constant motion. I turned off the TV and peeled one corner of the shade, making sure not to wiggle it too much.

As I looked outside, I covered my mouth, as I was about to gasp. About 100 men were carrying torches and guns. They were all wearing white robes, their faces covered with pointed hoods. The men stood abreast the width of the street, marching in sync like a military unit.

This went on for a good 10 minutes; but it seemed like an eternity. I had known of these people but had never actually seen them. Kids in the neighborhood had told me of bonfires that were held by these men, collectively known as the Ku Klux Klan. It wasn’t until a day or so later that I heard from one of the kids in the neighborhood that a KKK celebration rally had taken place at Audubon Park.

They were celebrating the death of Martin Luther King Jr.

George Ramirez is a broadcast journalist who has experienced “the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

Editor’s note: By coincidence, these two quickies arrived in our inbox within 45 minutes of each other.

Posted by Common Ties on Monday, October 15th, 2007 | Email This Post

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