Back to Memphis and the Civil Rights Museum

We  walked the short distance to the Civil Rights Museum from our parking place by the barbecue.  Cliff thought we'd be better spending our time elsewhere, since we knew all about what went on in the days of civil rights marches, integration, and so forth.  "We lived through it," he said. 

Actually, I didn't, personally, because none of that was happening in Kansas City in the 60's, that I knew of.  Schools were already segregated there.  (When Dr. King was shot, though, all hell broke loose in Kansas City.)  It was on the news every single night.  I was horrified at the way people treated others just because of the color of their skin.  I saw lovely, every-hair-in-place ladies spitting on children being escorted into newly integrated schools.  I was living alone in my first apartment on eleventh street in Kansas City at the time.  I watched Walter Cronkite every single night.  I remember wishing I had the nerve to go south and march with those people, like many college students were doing.  However, when those students started being killed, I knew I wouldn't have gone, even if I'd had the resources. 

First of all, I need to tell you that until we moved to Kansas City, I seldom saw anyone of color.  But my parents seemed anything but racist in my book.  They never said anything negative about "colored people" the term polite folks used at the time.  We were still in the small, north Missouri town of Eagleville when Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on the bus.  About the only black people I saw in the 40's and '50's were in the movies;  they often played comical-but-lovable parts, acting scared of the dark and so forth, sort of like Buckwheat in the original "Little Rascals".  If they played serious parts, they were usually cast as servants.  Mother and I would go to a movie once in awhile, and I guess there must have been a black baby or toddler in one of them, because the next Christmas... or perhaps my birthday... I wanted a black baby doll.  I thought black babies were cuter than white ones.  I do remember using the "N word" when I asked for that doll, though, so I suppose my parents used the word too.  It was rural Iowa.  Everybody was white there and I certainly didn't realize it was a negative word.  My mom got me the doll, though.

Anyhow, Cliff thought we had nothing new to learn about civil rights.  In a way, he was right.  We've watched a lot of PBS documentaries about those times:  the stories would break your heart.  But Cliff said we made this whole trip because I wanted to, so we went. 

The white wreath shows where Dr. King was shot.  I didn't take this picture, I found it on the Internet.  Only once in the twelve years I've been blogging did someone email me, telling me to remove a picture because it was theirs.  I did so.  

Everywhere we went in Memphis, the lighting hindered me from getting decent pictures.  At least you can make out what this is.  Part of the picture-taking problem is that you can't use flash.  

Here's a little something I'll share:  We stopped to watch a short video about civil rights in a mini-theater inside the museum.  One thing mentioned therein was an experiment done in the 40's where you put two baby dolls in front of black children, a black doll and a white doll.  Then you'd ask questions like, "Which one is the smart doll?" or "Which is the prettiest?"; most of the time, the black child would choose the white doll.  There's a ten-minute video on Youtube HERE showing how it went.  You don't have to watch over a minute of it to see how that went down.  

That's sad, but here's a little thing that happened when it was over:  As we were leaving, a black dad with his little boy beside him stopped at a glass case on the way out that had a black doll and a while doll displayed, side by side.  The man asked his child which doll he liked best.  The kid chose the black doll.  The dad asked another similar question... the boy, about five years old, still chose the black doll.  So at least in that family, there has been some progress.  

The little girl pictured above is that little boy's sister, I believe.  I'm not sure what that book is, but it was something about the video we were watching, I'm sure.  She decided to stand up in front of us all and show us the book, turning a page at a time.  Isn't she a cutie?

Cliff still says it was a waste of time for him, that he didn't learn anything new.  For me, it was a good reminder.  Besides, the world needs this museum for future generations who did NOT live through it.  

I'm glad we went.

A walk with two dogs

Now that winter is over, I'm having a little problem with the dogs when I walk.  

As soon as we get in the pasture I turn Gabe loose.  As long as big boy Apollo is with us, I don't think there is any danger of Gabe getting attacked by eagles, coyotes, or foxes.  But these two partners in crime run so fast out of pure joy at being free, they soon get very thirsty.  If we get near the muddy little pond in back, that's where they drink; and in order to get a drink, they have to walk through the mud at the edge of the pond.  So today I decided to avoid the pond and try to walk the same distance somewhere else on the place.  That would work, right? 

I am so happy I'm able to take my walks again (knock wood).  It takes twice as long as it used to to go the same distance, but my knees are holding up so far.  The dogs, of course, frolic and run.  Once I get back in the pasture to "the point", I feel a wonderful sense of freedom, like everything is in it's proper place.  It reminds me of what Old Lodge Skins said in the movie "Little Big Man" when Jack asked why white people killed women and children.  The old grandfather said, "Because they are strange.  They do not seem to know where the center of the earth is."

I know where the center of the earth is when I'm walking in the woods.

So I took the dogs in a different direction.  The river bottoms are flooded so much now that there is some standing water at the very back of the property at the lowest point on the place.  I stood where I could see glimpses of the water far below, but it wasn't enough.  I've been feeling pretty good lately, even without much sleep.  I felt like I could make it down to the bottom of the canyon and somehow get back up, as long as I took my time.  It's been a long, long time since I've even tried it.  

The hills are so steep I had to hang onto fence posts and trees going down, but I made it.  The dogs ran ahead to the bottom to get a drink.

This is where I landed, on the northwest corner of the property.  Back in 1993, it was deeper, and there were otters swimming around in this spot.  

The dogs ran to the water to drink, and next thing you know, Gabe decided to go for a swim.  I wasn't fast enough to get a picture.  Apollo stayed out of the water, but drank heavily.  Big dogs can drink a lot when they've been exerting themselves.  

You can see the railroad tracks behind our place, and the flooded river bottom on the other side.

Here is a path that leads from west to east back there.  Since I hadn't intended on venturing to the lowlands, I didn't wear my Muck Boots.  I wore my new leather walking shoes instead.  However, I managed to stay out of most of the mud.  There's a spring that runs out of most of the hillside there on the right year around, so it's always a little... or a lot... wet.  See the dogs, way up ahead of me?

The boys and I went south into my favorite canyon where I found a spot to sit while they nosed around.  I think if you were able to ask a dog which he'd rather lose, his vision or his sense of smell, he'd choose to keep his sense of smell.  They love smells, the ranker, the better.  That structure you see up high is one of the grandson's many deer blinds.  Yes, this old woman had to climb back up to that level when we were done in the valley.  I was still feeling pretty good though, and taking my time.  I rested a lot and let the dogs play.

Time to head back, and here's the path.  I rested twice on the way up.  

We walked a couple other paths once we were above the canyon.  

Time for another rest stop.  By this point, even the dogs were a little tired.  And Gabe decided to sniff Apollo's butt just in time for a picture.  

The valley you see below us we call "Marvin's Mushroom Heaven".  Seriously!  Marvin is a former neighbor.  

Apollo wanted to take a nap, but at this point I got him up and we made our way to the house.

Right now I feel no worse for the wear.  I'm so thankful I've figured out a way to go back there and enjoy my walks again.  Slow and easy wins the race.

 

Next entry, I promise, will be about the Memphis trip.