Khirz Khan - thank you for reminding me
From the ages 4- 7 I lived overseas. My Father then a Master Sergeant in the Air Force was assigned to an Army Base in Frankfurt, Germany the year I started first grade.
Now I'll will just bet that everyone remembers their first grade teacher. I will never forget mine. She was a beautiful, kind, loving, black woman - married to a white serviceman. Her name was Mrs. White and I loved her.
We returned "stateside" in 1966. I had just barely turned 7 years old. It was a mad dash from New Jersey to rural northern Florida and my parents hometown. A grandparent had suddenly taken ill and was not expected to recover. My folks were desperate to get "home" for one last visit after three years abroad. My Father purchased a 1965 Chevy Impala (with no air conditioning ) and we stopped only to see The Statute of Liberty and John F Kennedy's grave at Arlington.
Some of you may remember when 7 year old girls were not allowed in hospital rooms. After arriving at hospital - I was abandoned in the waiting room and left to my own devices. (Parents did that back then)
Now those of you who Really know me, know that I have an unusual relationship with color. Nowadays they call it synthesia, but back then i just knew that colors had sound and smell. (I thought at this time everyone had this superpower).
Left alone for hours in that waiting room with uncomfortable mid century modern plastic Eames chairs - I soon became captivated with a water fountain labeled "colored". It called to me! Imagine if you will - a child's fascination with a water fountain that would produce colored water! I was thrilled to the point of giddiness. Water that would flow from a fount that I could hear, smell, taste, - rub my hands and face in! Why had I not enjoyed this before? Why on Gods green Earth would I choose to drink from a "whites only" fountain?
My Mother found me. I was wet from head to toe! Drenched in the water that claimed flowed colors!
Tragically, it was explained to me that I was not allowed to drink the wonderful colorful water. I would be deprived and severely punished if I did it again. I was only allowed to drink at the fount of white boring water.
Well I was tired and hungry - so as my Mother put it I "made a scene". She had to explain to me that there was a difference in this country of how persons were treated. I discovered that day in 1966 that my beloved black teacher - Mrs. White and I were not allowed to drink the same water.
I never the same. The profoundness of this atrocity changed my life - so much so, it changed the relationship with my Mother (but that's another story)
However, things got better. We had gotten LBJ. My Father took me to see him at Kelly AFB. LBJ brought us The Civil Rights Act ending unequal voting requirements, segregated schools, workplaces and public facilities. My beloved Mrs White and I could drink the same colorful water and it was good.
Last night - I cried listening to Khizr Khan tell the story of his beloved son a service man lost in combat in a war we should have never been in! Never been in! Never been in!
I've lost a child to a senseless death - but it does even not compare to the profound loss of the Khan family, and what they must endure now. Now in this country! Their country too!
I've listened. I've heard the sound of someone I loved - brag they are dipping their bullets in blood to "pick off the Muslins" (Muslims) not once - but twice! Twice! I'm heartbroken! I'm sickened! I'm a seven year old girl again and my world has again been turned upside down! Like my Mother - our relationship will never be the same. You can count on it.
But I know that America is great! A Shining City blessed by God and capable of change, capable of love. I have seen it. I have lived it in a time when I was most impressionable.
I am comforted that Mrs White and I will someday soon - drink again from the same colorful fount. Maybe next year. And it will be good.
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