Evans’ Rag

Vol 7 Issue 9

I’m working to get ahead of myself. The essay on Medium seemed timely. A success story of sorts, but the point of it’s really what Rodney King pleaded: “Why can’t we just get along?”

There was a lot of hate in the 60s – coming from both directions—though what I felt most keenly was what was being directed at the anti-war and civil rights protestors, of which I was one. Of course, my shoulder-length curls kinda opened me up to being yelled at. Drove my ex mother-in-law, the very proper Southern lady crazy, which was payback all in itself.

Back then I was living in the buckle of the bible belt as it was known—specifically South Carolina. So in most ways, this feels like throwback times come round again.

So what was coming at us from our parents’ generation in the 60s was what I felt most keenly, but I wasn’t blind to what was being generated by some of my purported allies.

That evening when I walked into the Clemson cafeteria and caught sight of the TV broadcast on the Chicago police busting skulls and rioting at the ’67 Democratic Convention—the convention after we’d lost Robert Kennedy and were left with Humphrey as the best the pols could do—I knew the country was in trouble.

What’s the expression: history doesn’t repeat itself, but it sure rhymes.

No doubt, the country has violence in its bones. They say some canines are irredeemable, and it’s hard not to believe some people are as well. And even if we have folks at the top who cheer for it, I don’t believe that’s justification. Thomas Jefferson argued no matter what the preachers taught, we each and every one are responsible for our actions—whether there will ever be a final accounting or not.