Today we visited a piece of history, went swimming while learning about the human body, and then drove a few more hours.
Danielle took us to breakfast at a great little pancake house in Greensboro called Tex & Shirlee’s.
Before I go on, I have to point out something I thought of after hitting the “publish” button on my last post. Regarding the whole key issue, I wonder what FedEx would have done if I had told them my key was diabetic? I’ve seen it work with my sister when her power’s gone out. “PSE&G? I’m pregnant and diabetic and my power just went out.” Sure enough, her house goes back on the grid within minutes. Of course, she usually is pregnant and diabetic. I can just imagine my conversation…
“Hello, FedEx? Yes, I need to get a spare key from Dallas to Atlanta, pronto. Oh, and my sister is pregnant and diabetic. Thank you.”
After breakfast, we headed on to the “International Museum of Civil Rights”. I use quotes because a few years ago we visited a place called the “National Museum of Civil Rights” in Memphis. It was the old Loraine Motel where Martin Luther King was shot and I certainly believed it to be the definitive museum on civil rights. The place in Greensboro, then, was either steeped in hyperbole or misguided or something. What was the deal here? Well, it surely did have a great significance in American history. This place was in the original Woolworth’s where four brave young men of color decided to sit down at a lunch counter and stand up for human dignity. Again, I could have lived without the air of competition with the Memphis museum. For instance, this place actually cited itself as being the “birthplace of the civil rights movement”. Now that’s just plain wrong. Rosa Park’s famous bus ride took place five years before the lunch counter episode. Either way, we enjoyed ourselves being lead by a very able tour guide telling us the fascinating story of the struggle for civil rights.
As we neared the end of the tour we were shown a large mural on the wall of the faces of victims of brutality from those dark days. There was Medger Evers and Dr. King and the Freedom Riders. The tour guide then pointed out to us that, if we stepped back, we could see that the faces all form the “pixels” of a larger image of President Obama. I get the whole historical aspect of his election and all. I’m not a fan of his policies. My wife and I were a bit puzzled at the whole thing since he wasn’t there during that era. I feel as though they should have just left the focus on those who were. Karla made the mistake of asking the rhetorical question: “Why do they have to throw him in there?” It was at this point that I realize why I love my niece, Danielle, so much. With complete innocence and utter sincerity, she blurted out: “I think it’s because he’s black and he’s the president.”
Thank thou for that, Danni.
To end the day we drove to Cary, NC, home of the great Vicki…