« Watching a Movie: "The Help" »

As I type this, Sarah and Rex are in our living room watching "The Help". While it was playing, I was working in the kitchen overhearing the movie's dialogue and lots of thoughts were coming to mind.

Arkansas is the state of our birth. We were in junior high school in 1957, when Little Rock Central High School made history as the National Guard escorted (for protection) the Little Rock 9 into the school to begin its integration of Black students into formerly White schools. A few years ago, Sarah was in school at Arkansas State University for one year. While she was there, a female member of the Arkansas Nine came to speak on campus. Sarah enthusiastically praised this woman who challenged the ASU students in a rare and powerful way. After hearing her story, Sarah marveled that she showed no bitterness for the terrible days she had experienced as a youth.

Just after Rex and I married in 1964, my parents moved to Mississippi. When they arrived, things were very similar to what took place in this movie, '"The Help". Thankfully not everyone in the South was like some of the Whites portrayed in this movie. Rex recalls his parents commenting on two little boys, one Black, one White, happily enjoying each other holding hands as they walked along together. Mrs. Holt said, "There's sure not any prejudice in their little hearts" to which Mr. Holt responded, "There's not in anyone's, until someone puts it there."

My parents shared the same perspective as the Holts in abhorring racial prejudice. Daddy had always been a fan of a TV Western called the Rifleman and its star, Chuck Conners. The show ran for 5 seasons, from 1958-1963. In the 1970's,the TV miniseries "Roots" aired based on a book by Alex Haley. After watching "Roots", Daddy couldn't seem to separate his one time TV hero from the despicable and cruel character that Chuck Conners played in that miniseries. He evidently played his part so well, that Daddy always felt he had to have prejudice in his heart to even accept a part like that.

In Memphis, 1968, just 60 miles from our home town, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. A few years later we moved to Ft. Worth for Rex to attend seminary. The seminary library had a significant number of audio sermons preached by Martin Luther King, Jr. and Rex loved to listen to them. Of course his favorite message was, "I Have A Dream".

In the 70's, we lived in Togo, an important area for the Atlantic Slave trade from the 16th to the 19th century. We loved stories about John Newton and William Willberforce and their fight to end the West African slave trade. We even admired the scars on our Yoruba friends faces. It was a custom that began long ago to identify their tribe in case someone was kidnapped and forcibly taken to the coast to be put on a slave ship. A Yoruba would "lay down his life" to rescue an individual who bore the marking of his tribe. These scars were made by making cuts into the skin of an infant and placing ashes inside the wound. After understanding the significance of their scars, we understood why the Yorubas were proud of these distinguishing marks.

Lots of memories, right? Our children are horrified by the mistreatment enacted in this film. I am very grateful that some real-life heroes and heroines in history paid a great price to see righteousness and justice prevail that eventually ended the Atlantic Slave Trade and resulted in our nation's Civil Rights Law of 1964.

Sherry