Calling someone a racist has become a frequent accusation today. It has intensified greatly since the death of George Floyd, a black man who died while being detained by Minneapolis police officers several months ago. It has divided the nation and resulted in protests, many of which have turned violent with rioting, looting, destruction of property, injury and even some deaths.
Discriminating against people because of their race, color or other characteristic is not a new occurrence. The Bible contains many accounts of racial discrimination, one of the most notable involving the treatment of Jewish slaves by the Egyptians in the days of Moses.
Through the centuries since then, racism has reared its ugly head many times involving different races or groups of people. It eventually made its appearance in America even before the United States became a country with the slave trade, a business that brought black persons from Africa to be sold into slavery.
Although President Abraham Lincoln legally ended slavery with his Emancipation Proclamation during the Civil War, discrimination continued in the U.S., especially in the South, for the next several decades. After the 1960s, treatment of black people slowly improved, even in southern states.
Today, to say that racism is a thing of the past would be incorrect. It no doubt continues in the minds of some individuals. But by the same token, we feel that it is also incorrect to say that racism is rampant throughout the country, as is being alleged by the protesters.
As I look back on my early years growing up in Marysville, it provided a unique insight into this problem. During the 1950s and 1960s, when racial tensions in the South were at their height, I never witnessed discrimination here.
One of my best friends and a school classmate, Cliff Brown, was black. We studied together and were both involved in the same school activities. His father was elected to the Marysville Council and became mayor for a term. Another black person, John Evans, was a physician in town and was named as medical director at Memorial Hospital. Other black families lived in Marysville and worked at various companies. When my family lived on Eighth Street, a black family, the Hills, lived around the corner from us. The father, Leroy, was a champion horseshoe pitcher and taught the neighborhood youngsters the sport in his backyard horseshoe court. When I carried the Journal-Tribune, one of my customers on Eighth Street between Linden and Mulberry Streets was an older retired black couple named Carter. One Christmas I received a pair of socks that Mrs. Carter had knitted. Knowing they didn’t have much money, I treasured those socks and wore them until they were full of holes.
I could go on, but I think you get the picture. Marysville was a small town, not unlike many others across parts of the country, where people lived and worked together without being concerned, for the most part, about the color of one’s skin or their race. I suppose there were isolated instances of discrimination, but I never witnessed or even heard of any.
I have described my recollection of Marysville 65-70 years ago. It’s unfortunate that the entire nation couldn’t have mirrored life here at that time. But racial attitudes in the U.S. have improved since then and it is my opinion that most of the American people today have come around to embrace those same feelings that were present in Marysville when I was a boy. Consequently, I do not agree with those who recklessly allege widespread racism.