viator

End of Innocence

In 1st grade I met a boy named Gary. It was 1969 in Auburn, Massachusetts, a small town near the center of the state. Gary and I became best friends quickly and over the next few years we would sleep over at each others houses, our parents became friends, we became inseparable. My dad became a manager where he worked and even got Garys dad a job there. I remember there was some difficulty with that, but I didnt know why. I was a kid and that was grown up stuff so it didnt really concern me, and it all worked out in the end.
In 1975 Garys family moved away, not real far, but as a kid, my best friend for half of my life moving was really sad. That summer, I was able to spend a week at Garys. He had moved to Worcester, a fairly large city about 20 miles away. He lived in a large apartment complex that looked like it could be a fun place. It had a park with a playground, an area for a small baseball game, and lots of places where a couple of 11 year old boys could play. But Gary didnt really like to go outside to play. It had only been a few months since he'd moved, but there was something different about him, he wasnt as fun anymore.
After a few days, I finally got Gary to take me to the playground. There were some boys our age playing catch with a baseball, as we walked up I thought that they might ask us to play. Instead, the boy with the ball threw it at Gary, hitting him in the head. The boy then yelled I told you not to come down here nigger.
I helped Gary up and we ran back to his apartment. It was like someone had just turned on a light for me though. I had been living in the dark my whole life until then. Garys skin was a different color than mine, sure, but I didnt really ever think it mattered. I mean our shirts were different colors, our eyes were different colors, our hair was different, so what if our skin was too. But then all the little things came together, the way the neighbors would whisper and stare, the other neighborhood kids not being too friendly with me, the problems my dad had getting Garys dad the job. I understood now, and I hated it.
This was probably when I decided that I didnt want to grow up. If thats the kind of world grown-ups wanted, I didnt need to be a part of it. And I still dont.
Gary and I lost touch with each other a several years later. Last I heard he had moved to New York after high school. But knowing him for the time I did taught me a lot about people, and most of it wasnt good.
The moral of the story, and of life, is simple. Judge people by who they are, how they act and how they treat others. Nothing else.

King had a dream,
I have a dream that one day little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers
I have a memory.