So This Is Racial Prejudice?

I hate to admit it, but I actually shopped at Walmart yesterday. They had a replacement window blind in the exact size that I needed. None of the other discount stores carried the larger sizes. Now that I've confessed my indiscretion, I must tell you what happened when I tried to go through the check out line.

A young African American couple were in line just ahead of me and were purchasing some kind of boxed furniture item. It was big and bulky and set them back $143.00. The woman took out her charge card and handed it to the clerk who asked her simply to provide her drivers license along with the charge card. She complied, and the transaction was completed simply and quickly. At last, it became my turn to place my three items on the belt.

My total came to $14.00 and I handed the clerk my charge card. She processed my card and I began to head toward the exit where I discovered the young couple stood glaring at me. As I began to approach the exit the woman went ballistic. She said to me and to the clerk, "Oh Hell no!." I thought what the heck did I do and watched her launch into a public tirade that would have put a blush on any ones face.

Marching back to the clerk she screamed. " You aksed me for my drivers license when I used a charge, but this white lady, she get off not havin' to show you hers." Now I'm thinking yeah, that's true, but the store probably has a $100 limit on charges before they demand an extra ID. Now in my book that's not discrimination, that's good business, but what do I know.

The woman continued to rant, explaining that she was a teacher and "Can't no black teacher have a credit card?" When she finally took a breath the clerk meekly explained the stores credit card policy, which was exactly as I suspected, limited by a certain cash amount for which an ID was required. But when one's head is filled with racial discrimination, one tends to find it behind every single transaction in life. So the woman continued to scream prejudice all the way to the exit. The last words I heard as she blew past the poor woman at the door who was suppose to be checking every ones receipts was, "You gotta watch these white folks. They put you down every chance they gets."

I showed my receipts to the checker at the exit and we both smiled and shook our heads and said nothing. I thought to myself that in this particular case no one needed to put that woman down, she was doing a great job of making an ass of herself all by herself.

Visiting Steve

This weekend was our every- other- month visit to Rudy's brother Steve who is incarcerated in the Grafton Correctional Facility. Recently visitation has been cut back to Saturdays only, and those inmates with even numbers are allowed to have visitation on the even numbered Saturdays of the month. No more Sundays means half the visits allowed. To maintain crowd control they have also gone to a reservations only system for these sessions. This means that the Sunday before a visit one must call the institution between 5 pm and 5:30 and make reservations. Like a popular Broadway production, these reservations "sell out" in the blink of an eye. We try to beat the system by having two or sometimes three of us dialing out on our cell phones at the stroke of five to try to get through to the reservations officer. We were successful in our phone marathon last Sunday and were able to secure a visitation reservation for yesterday from 8 am until noon.

Saturday promised to bless us once again with 90 plus temps and the Grafton facility has no air conditioning. Steve often works in 120 degree temps in the green houses he maintains there. Fortunately the visitation hall is now air conditioned, for which we were eternally thankful. Steve arrived with his usual bouncing step and dazzling smile. His ability to maintain a positive attitude after twenty six years of incarceration, never fails to amaze me. Because we came early enough, we got first dibs on the vending machines and Steve's Dad was able to purchase a variety of burgers, snack foods and pop for the session. He was miticulous about the microwave cooking of these items, so much so, that it seemed comical. But, in reality,I guess its his small way of being able to cook for his wayward son. I'm not sure Steve even wants the junk food, but he accepts Cal's efforts with grace and a show of appreciation.

For the first time, we saw an inmate escorted to a visitation table in full body chains. His family of six awaited his arrival and I noted the horror on their faces when they first saw him approach. Steve explained that the inmate had already had this visit reserved and apparently had broken a prison rule with either contraband or bad behavior. Because of this, he was spending the week in total lock down. The warden was allowing the visit only because he realized most of us come from great distances and at great sacrifice to see our loved ones.

Other than that, the room was filled with the usual sounds of boisterous conversation and children's laughter. If you bring a $2.00 money order ( Actual cash is forbidden. Even the vending machines required pre purchased debit cards) you can have your picture taken standing in front of a variety of colorful photo backgrounds. The photographer was busier than usual this past Saturday.

Since Steve was refused early release this past year, he plans to take more college classes this fall in the anticipation of having to finish his entire sentence of thirty years. His cell mate is an eighty five year old ex mafia man who has been incarcerated for thirty five years with no chance of ever being paroled. With Rudy's constant financial help, they have living quarters better than most. From a TV, to wristwatches, tennis shoes, and sun protective hats, Rudy gives his little brother the opportunity to purchase from prison catalogs all the little extras that make his incarceration more bearable.

I learned from Steve that inmates have been given the right to vote in national elections. Shocked, I asked when this had happened and he admitted he didn't know. We all, including Steve, agree that this is a miscarriage of justice. I can't help but wonder who's agenda this voting privilege fills. The inmates are mailed absentee ballots religiously. In fact those ballots appear to arrive in a more timely fashion than most personal mail. It's not because prisoners across the country demanded this right returned to them, because they did not care enough to take up that banner. There are more important things they would demand before voting rights. So I must conclude that somewhere in the political machinery someone needed some votes which could hopefully be culled from a hidden population of uneducated, unmotivated, prison inmates. The politicians apparently are equal opportunity exploiters.

We ended our visit with hugs all around. Steve was more animated than usual, working off a sugar and caffeine induced high provided by the two bottles of pop Cal got him. We made our usual promises to write and left the confines of the prison yards behind us for our long drive home. Today we will be attending the annual Calderone reunion; one of twenty six which Steve has missed.