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Black & white, Summer 1944
Page 7
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aren't equal in war time,tho, and I think it's better policy not to go seeking troublesome points. I don't get his phrase "He and a white woman (sic)". In the letter I said "Mrs. Eskridge and me". "A white woman" would be a slitely improper way to speak of my sister. It is suggested that I have been hypnotized by my environment in this matter. A bit of autobiography is in order: The small town in the South-West where I was brung up is predominately Anglo-Saxon. There were half a dozen or a dozen Republicans, two German households, and one Jewish family, whereof the son was the best companion I could find in school, tho I disliked his extreme extroversion. No Negroes could settle there; the policy was "Don't let the sun set on you inside town", but I didn't know there was such a policy until about the time I was twelve years old, and the only case I have heard of where it was enforced was when the banker's wife wanted to keep a colored maid. And as far as my home town environment was concerned, Negroes were non-existent. In our summer trips to the paternal home in Florida, of course, we did see quite a lot of darkies. There were a lot of them in Oakland, and they kept perfectly to their place. We liked Fanny and Charlie. I never knew there was a Negro problem till '38. My first unpleasant notice of them was when I was in Oklahoma City, but these were of no import. Once you get to Washington, tho, you have to decide pretty quick where you will stand. I took Psych my first semester here; the War Department has supplied other supporting data since then. A third of the Capital's normal population is colored. That makes it ethno-geographically a southern city. But the laws are dictated by Congress, where the North-West is supreme, so the only official segregation is in the schools. On common carriers and in many department stores there is a mixture; in amusement places and eateries the managerial policy is to exclude one race. Exceptions of course are government theaters and cafeterias. Even in the latter, however, they invariably eat at different tables. Kiplinger's book on Washington describes pretty well the general attitude. We don't like having the Negroes here. They're responsible for most of the crime and other things that give the city a low desirability-rating as compared to the white cities of Southern California and the Middle East. But there are few flare-ups, and in general we go our way and they go theirs. The only occasions for active dislike are those in which the blacks push their claims to equality, like the dining-car episode. Oh--- incidentally, an item mentioning Pfc Ack-Ack and a colored soldier is slated for the next Fictitious But Definitely. Nothing especially objectional about it; I just want to say that it was thunk up before this debate materialized. Another item in the letter which the "J" doesn't mention tells of a time when I ate at the same table with a Negress. The sponsor and program director of a church group had invited her to speak. None of us liked it, but thot it better not to precipitate a scene. So don't expect me to get up and walk out if Williams shows up at a convention. But don't expect me to welcome him with open arms, either.
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aren't equal in war time,tho, and I think it's better policy not to go seeking troublesome points. I don't get his phrase "He and a white woman (sic)". In the letter I said "Mrs. Eskridge and me". "A white woman" would be a slitely improper way to speak of my sister. It is suggested that I have been hypnotized by my environment in this matter. A bit of autobiography is in order: The small town in the South-West where I was brung up is predominately Anglo-Saxon. There were half a dozen or a dozen Republicans, two German households, and one Jewish family, whereof the son was the best companion I could find in school, tho I disliked his extreme extroversion. No Negroes could settle there; the policy was "Don't let the sun set on you inside town", but I didn't know there was such a policy until about the time I was twelve years old, and the only case I have heard of where it was enforced was when the banker's wife wanted to keep a colored maid. And as far as my home town environment was concerned, Negroes were non-existent. In our summer trips to the paternal home in Florida, of course, we did see quite a lot of darkies. There were a lot of them in Oakland, and they kept perfectly to their place. We liked Fanny and Charlie. I never knew there was a Negro problem till '38. My first unpleasant notice of them was when I was in Oklahoma City, but these were of no import. Once you get to Washington, tho, you have to decide pretty quick where you will stand. I took Psych my first semester here; the War Department has supplied other supporting data since then. A third of the Capital's normal population is colored. That makes it ethno-geographically a southern city. But the laws are dictated by Congress, where the North-West is supreme, so the only official segregation is in the schools. On common carriers and in many department stores there is a mixture; in amusement places and eateries the managerial policy is to exclude one race. Exceptions of course are government theaters and cafeterias. Even in the latter, however, they invariably eat at different tables. Kiplinger's book on Washington describes pretty well the general attitude. We don't like having the Negroes here. They're responsible for most of the crime and other things that give the city a low desirability-rating as compared to the white cities of Southern California and the Middle East. But there are few flare-ups, and in general we go our way and they go theirs. The only occasions for active dislike are those in which the blacks push their claims to equality, like the dining-car episode. Oh--- incidentally, an item mentioning Pfc Ack-Ack and a colored soldier is slated for the next Fictitious But Definitely. Nothing especially objectional about it; I just want to say that it was thunk up before this debate materialized. Another item in the letter which the "J" doesn't mention tells of a time when I ate at the same table with a Negress. The sponsor and program director of a church group had invited her to speak. None of us liked it, but thot it better not to precipitate a scene. So don't expect me to get up and walk out if Williams shows up at a convention. But don't expect me to welcome him with open arms, either.
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