Best of times, the worst of times

[erlewyne]

9. This is not a fairy tale

My parents moved us to a new school district. Poverty but not complaining.
We were just poor. I had went to a school that abounded in poor blacks.
My family, poor as we were, we were (unintentionally) white
supremacist. I went to an acquaintance's house a few miles away in this new
school district and his next door neighbors were black. They were only blacks in
this new school district! A farm school (agriculture). I met Herman. good
looking black. So, shortly thereafter we played some backyard football, and
this nigger (me) ended up chasing him and I said "Look at that nigger run!
His speed astounded me.
I had no idea who he was. It turns out he is a super athlete that I was
unaware of, this school is new to me. I apologized to Herman and he scoffed
it off. We became good friends and I always felt, after that, that I recognized
the racial barrier openly whereas my white classmates just used him because
he was an athletic star. I was poverty ridden and he was a negro. I was
apprehended as a star athlete but as trash and he was the star and was black.
I went to another school and lost contact with Herman. A few years later I
was drafted for Vietnam. I was in A.I.T. (Advanced Infantry Training) when I
got a letter from my mother, :"Charlie just talked to Herman, Herman has to
go to Vietnam and he is going as a medic (Herman was a conscientious objector)
and Charlie is my brother.
A day or so later (not a week) I got another letter (the same letter, it is
a mail-call problem and long before cell phones) that had a P.S., Herman
was killed. I am waiting for my deposition to Vietnam, being trained as a rifleman
and forward observer, I am trained to call in mortars, I was trained to kill, and
I get a letter from home telling me my h.s. football, superstar teammate was
killed in Vietnam. And he was a conscientious objector and was killed doing his
duty as a medic, dressed in white with a red cross, trusting,
I was waiting for my assignment to Fort Bellevoir, Va. (I apologize for the
misspelling, but it is close). I was going to be an officer in the engineers (barb
wire application, mortar, forward observer, and all kinds of accolades). I am
thinking, you stupid mf.! It was 1967, Ft. Dix, N.J. when I got the sad news
that the government was in a money pinch so my officers training was can celled.
I was reassigned to Berlin, Germany ... unless I went to Ft. Bennington and
trainee another six months. I decided to go to Berlin. (wink, not a hard decision)

I think, I will try to contact Herman's family and send them this letter, but I never met
them, and I am sure they have all passed away. He had an older sister who I never
met and I think she was unmarried.