Fathers Day is always an emotional day for me. Some years the day brims with fond memories of my father, his ebullience, strength, and character. Other years, those remembrances take a backseat to my own sense of loss. Given the murders of nine people in a Bible study at Charleston’s historically black Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal (A.M.E.) Church four days ago, I’m still a cauldron of mixed emotions. And probably will be for some time.
In the meantime, I’ll share a few facts that might give you a little insight as to why I feel the way I do.
- My father was born in the 1920s in the southern state of Florida, at a time when Blacks didn’t have the right to vote.
- My father faced racism in some form every day of his life and ultimately triumphed over it by being the first black man to hold management positions in Anheuser-Busch, Inc., to be nationally-recognized for those accomplishments, providing a comfortable life for his family, and earning the respect and admiration of people of all races.
- My father served as Dean of Men at Florida Agricultural & Mechanical University in Tallahassee. Knowing the importance of higher education and the opportunities it afforded, he continued to help countless folks realize their dream of attending college.
- My family has strong and longstanding ties the A.M.E. church. I was baptized in the A.M.E. church that my grandfather helped build, as were numerous family members. (My mother is still an active member of that same church, serving as a stewardess, Sunday school teacher, and former Sunday school superintendent among other roles. My mother is no stranger to Wednesday night Bible studies. She has attended them faithfully for decades and continues to do so to this day.)
I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. This is personal. Do not be deceived. All the things my father stood for and fought against fifty years ago are still alive and well and living not so quietly in America. My father never looked for a hand-out only the opportunity to pursue his God-given right to build a life in liberty and pursue happiness without being held down or viewed as less than because of the color of his skin.
A massacre like the one in Charleston could have easily happened here. Fear is not one of the emotions I’m experiencing, but “annoyance” at the pervasive, lackadaisical attitude that the murder of nine Black people in a house of worship by someone with obvious racist and terrorist intentions isn’t all that important. You know … that it’s an isolated incident and not indicative of the rogue elephant wreaking havoc in America’s living room.
That’s where I am today.
I miss my father, but am glad he’s not around to see the state of the union he proudly served in the navy to protect. It would break his heart. But not his spirit. I know that he would continue in his own way to lead the fight for civil rights and social justice.
