It's not black, it's not white, it's green!

Growing up on the Redneck Riviera during the 1950s and ‘60s I had very little contact with people of color. An exception was the Indian Chief (well, he said he was a chief) who owned the little mini-mart down the road. The only other person I came across was the Polynesian kid from Hawaii who transferred in to Jenks Junior High School. He created quite a stir because of his dark skin color but no one dared say anything racist to him. He was a really nice guy, but he also towered over every other kid in school and he outweighed most by fifty pounds…all solid muscle. The redneck bullies kept their opinions to themselves.

Panama City and the pure white beaches perked along in segregated serenity until the mid sixties. President Lyndon Johnson screwed up the tranquil beach community with the passage of the Civil Rights Act on July 2, 1964. Not long after the signing of the Act, the Selma marches began and the angst began building all up and down the Miracle Strip. “How on Earth can we deal with the possibility of black feet wiggling their black toes in our lily-white, powdered sugar sands,” was the question on the lips of many a person’s mind.

A meeting was called. The participants included most of the beach community from Long Beach all the way to Sunnyside. “Nigger” was tossed about quite a bit, but no one seemed to have a clue as to how to deal with the anticipated invasion. Someone turned to Mr. Fernandez, who had been sitting back and just taking this all in, “Carl, what the hell will you do if they try to get into the Little B’ham?” Mr. Fernandez replied, “I’ll slap them with a $25 cover charge.” “What if they pay it?” I will never forget the response, “Then I’ll toss out all the white trash.” That seemed to settle the matter and life went on.

Today there is the pitter patter of black feet plodding through the White House. My investments have recovered. With health care reform we may be able to afford to live out our lives in the United States. I believe there may be a lesson in here somewhere.  And, hopefully, life will go on.

Postscript:  Sadly the Little B'ham as well as some other beach icons such as Altman's Drive-in are now but distant memories.