Texas State Capitol Austin, Texas |
In the following excerpt, I describe a scene at the Texas state capitol
that I had with my mother and dad and sisters when I was a child. Photos
reminded me of the event for years after it happened. My dad tricked me into
drinking the sulfur tasting water that day cementing the memory forever. I also
remember a time when I wondered if people were staring at me and a fellow
marine who happened to be black as we traveled from California to Texas.
When we reached my parent's house in Austin, I
was concerned about their reaction since, as far as I knew, Bill would be the first
black person in our home. However, he was accepted graciously. My dad even
drove us the rest of the way to Houston, saying we were probably too tired to
drive further.
I tied both of these incidents into the book.
In this excerpt, Brian had asked to meet with Mr. McCullough, the
78-year-old father of Brian's best friend Phil, because Brian wanted advice on
being close to God. You'll have to read the book to find out more. I only
included enough here to describe the setting.
“You know,” Mr. McCullough said as he and Brian walked through the
capitol grounds, “a few years back, ever’one would be staring at us.”
Brian was six foot two, and Phil’s dad was five two or three at
the most. Mr. McCullough had just gotten off work at the Driskill and still had
on his white shirt and bowtie. Brian wore shorts and Birkenstocks. Still, Brian
knew Mr. McCullough was talking about race, not stature or clothing. Mr.
McCullough was from a time in history Brian could never fully understand, but
he’d read about how blacks suffered. It was a time of segregation.
Mr. McCullough looked around. “When I was jus’ a kid, nine or ten
I’d say, my parents brought me here.” He motioned toward the spot where they
sat. “My daddy told me to drink from a sulfur fountain that was here. Said it’d
be good for me and make me healthy. But there was a problem. Back then, you
see, we had separate drinking fountains. One marked ‘white’ and one marked
‘colored.’”
He paused, but Brian waited for him to continue. “There was only
one sulfur fountain and it wasn’t marked one way or ‘nother, colored or white.”
He laughed. “Didn’t matter. We sneaked a sip when no one was about. Only once,
though.” He shook his head and made a face. “Terrible stuff. Smelled like
rotten eggs.”
See: http://sidneywfrost.com/capitol.htm for photos of the area
where Brian and Mr. McCullough may have been.
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