On several occasions before my brother and I were in school, my parents planned trips to visit relatives. This gave them a much needed break from work, and we would get to see our cousins. It doesn't sound too restful, but when you come from a family of eight, any reduction in the masses was a welcomed relief.
When my parents traveled in those early years, they often did so separately out of fear of an accident. Leaving such a large family behind would have been a tragedy in and of itself, so on this particular trip, my father took my younger brother and they flew to Biloxi, MS, while my mother and I traveled by Trailways to DC first, having a planned overnight with my uncle, and then onto MS from there. My uncle, my father's brother, lived in Washington and worked for the government. We were unable to do much sight seeing, but I remember many of the recognizable monuments looking so beautiful all lit up, just like in the pictures. He lived in the Georgetown section of the city in a white brick townhouse. We ate at a Howard Johnsons like restaurant and had ice cream. What more could a young kid ask for?
The details of the bus ride itself naturally are rather muddled at this point, but I have a very clear recollection of one of our stops in Alabama the following day. Since the buses in those days didn't have a restroom on board, we made scheduled stops along the way. Passengers would depart and others would board, while those of us through passengers were given the opportunity to use the facilities. Oftentimes, the small towns had public restrooms near the bus stops, typically in the town square, like the one in Forest Gump. At one stop, I told my mom I was going to use the restroom. I remember finding the men’s room and started to enter when a nice gentleman said to me, “this one is for us and the one for you is over there.” I didn’t question him and proceeded accordingly. I also noted 2 drinking fountains with labeling indicating why, which equally seemed very strange to me, but I was 5.
Now, many years later, I reflect on that brief moment in time and how even at that age, it seemed odd. I recently watched the movie “Hidden Figures”, and sadly, there were several scenes that struck me in the same, questioning way. I found myself asking “why” all over again, just as I had 63 years ago. It didn’t make sense to me then and it still doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t we expect to acquire wisdom through our experiences and utilize that going forward? Our differences are nothing more than the things that make us individuals. After all, aren’t we all created equal and there is no hidden meaning in that!
