Tomorrow I am flying out to Tulsa for the opening night of the Tulsa Opera’s production of La Traviata. My plan is to pick up Witchwoman and enjoy all that Tulsa has to offer. Before heading off though I tried to do my civic duty. I met today with my reverential uncle, his delightful wife, Judy, and Jim about the political forum I am moderating on 19 October. It was fun. The discussion around the lunch table today got sidetracked when Judy mentioned the Ku Klux Klan. It seems that one of the candidates who will be participating in the forum is the grandson of an Imperial Lizard (Wizard) of the Klan. In the context in which it came up, it seems like we were discussing ancient history. The Klan? Surely, the Klan belonged to a different era? The disturbing question lingered after lunch . As my lovely aunt reminded me, though, this is Alabama.
My alma mater. Handley High School, is 6-0. I took The Old Goat to the homecoming game last Friday night. What strikes me is the racial harmony that exists when the issue is football. I m not convinced that it carries over to other areas of social interaction. We were seated in an area of the stadium that accommodated general admission tickets. The crowd was mixed, black and white. But everybody seemed to express the same Handley spirit. My senior year at Handley was the year that the courts ruled that we had to integrate the former Randolph County Training School into Handley. Obviously, RCTS was the black school. Most of the seniors at RCTS dropped out rather than join us at HHS. A few came over. One was a very attractive girl for whom I fell. At our graduation dance, I fulfilled a high school boy’s dream of dancing with her, close and personal. The chaperone, Spud Krissler, came up to me and told me that it was time for me to leave. That ended my time at Handley High School. I have not looked back since.
