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Jesup, Georgia 31545

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

75

Compared to today, the 1950s were snail-like in delivering the news. Before sunrise, the Savannah Morning News skidded on the sidewalk, with damp-from-dew St. Augustine grass acting as a backstop at 111 West Orange Street. During daylight hours, WBGR had a noon newscast. Since we lived in the back of the funeral home, the mortuary hourthat lasted 10 minutes, maybewas the most regularly-listened-to broadcast. I can still hear Glenn Thomas Jr.s baritone voice on the AM station. And if you rotated the antenna just right, you might get 30 minutes of news on one of three TV channelstwo in Savannah, the other in Jacksonville. That is if Harvey Stuckey had waved his magic repairmans wand over our 19-inch Majestic black-and-white TV. My sisters and I always pleaded, Please, Mr. Stuckey, you have to fix it. Daddy wont buy another. And until Matlock and Wheel of Fortune emerged decades later, Big Dink could have lived without a TV. I wasnt intentionally sheltered in Southeast Georgia. I was just absorbed in a simple, Mayberry-like life: Orange Street Elementary School, First Baptist Church, Little League, Boy Scouts and outdoor stuff, like riding my bike, with buddies, to skinny dip in the Black Hole. Starting with my dad in the 1930s, three generations of NeSmith boys splashed in that

Scrubbing the colored toilet helped remove my blinders

secret-butnot-so-secret swimming hole. The world was changing, but I was wearing idyllic blinders. The Russians DINK scared us into NeSMITH the Space Age Chairman with Sputnik, but I was oblivious to the mounting civilrights movement with Rosa Parks, Dr. Martin Luther King, John Lewis and others. I knew there were black schools and white schools, but as a pre-teen, thats all I had ever known. We didnt have a maid, so separate bathroomsas dramatized in the movie The Help werent an issue in our tiny apartment. By 1960, my eyes opened. For 35 cents an hour, I did more than pump gas at Popes Texaco. There were no leaf blowers. I swept the concrete apron, every day, with a push broom. And I sanitized three restroomsladies, men and colored. Up until that point, I guess that I hadnt thought about the existence of a third restroom. I doubt many other white 12year-olds had, either. Ignorance doesnt make a good excuse, but ignorance does make it easy to be complacent.

My Opinion
MMM

For whatever reason, much of America was complacent for too long in closing the racial divide. In a half-century, weve made huge strides. But we are not therenot yet. This morning, I woke up thinking about thatand about Danny Stephens. Danny integrated Wayne County Junior High in 1965. It was relatively peaceful for everyone, except Danny, who had to endure taunting and bullying. The next year, I graduated in the last non-integrated, non-consolidated high school in Jesup. In the fall, Wayne County Training School, Odum High and Screven High were merged with Wayne County High School. Fast-forward to 1998. Danny Stephens was knocking on my door. My dad had just died, and he came to give his condolences. Danny said some very nice things. And then, he talked about breaking another color barrierphotographer for our newspaper in the late 1970s. I never thought of that either, until Danny told me about the suspicions he caused. He had to explain to the police that he was in the neighborhood taking pictures for ads. Now its 2012. News doesnt creep anymore. It pulsates24-7. Trayvon Martin made me think of Danny. Weve come a long way since the 1950s. But were not therenot yet.
dnesmith@cninewspapers.com