I just had to hide the feeds from one of my friends on Facebook because they included racist videos. This person commented that he was laughing very hard at these videos. I had to hide them, and it took a lot of control not to comment about them and rant how this kind of crap is what keeps this country and the world from moving forward.

I was also talking to a friend on the phone recently. He also made a few racist comments. I just try to ignore them, but it’s very difficult.

What makes it really hard is that these are people from the neighborhood where I grew up. I have over 270 friends on Facebook, and I’ve only seen this kind of thing from those people who come from my home area.

This is hard to say. I’ve never felt I was a part of the neighborhood where I grew up because of things like this. I saw it in my family, in my friends, and from almost everyone in the area. Yet, I never accepted it. Racism is wrong!

Calling people derogatory names and prejudging individuals based on their race, color, faith, nationality, and any other stereotype is wrong. There is no defending it.

I understand we are all prejudiced. It is a basic instinct for survival. We fear and/or are suspicious of that which is different. I feel it myself. However, to bring those inner feelings and fears out, and ridicule (not just ridicule, but insult to the highest degree) individuals or groups based on those unfounded emotions is discrimination. And discrimination is never correct behavior for a thinking, intelligent being.

We are all human. We all do it. I suppose I am discriminating against bigots by blocking their posts on my pages. I hope I really do understand that it is the behavior of individuals and not of a group. There are other people from my home neighborhood who do not discriminate. It’s just a shame that I’ve seen so much of it from Fairmounters.

And for anyone thinking about defending this type of behavior… ARE YOU SERIOUS? You really think this is something you can defend? It’s bad enough that someone displays this type of behavior. What are we if we begin defending it?

COME ON!!! We have to move forward. Race, religion, nationality… it’s all nothing! Get over it and let’s start fixing the real problems in the world like starvation, disease, and war.

Myrtle Street looking West

(Originally published on December 21, 2007)

One of the most important landmarks in anyone”s life is the street where they grew up. I spent almost 30 years of my life on Myrtle Street. I”ve lived next to relatives and beside neighbors who were almost like family.

I remember as a very young child playing in the street with my brother and sister and other children who lived on the street. That was before you had to worry about traffic. In those days, a car seldom came down the street during the work day.

It was safe on Myrtle Street. Back in the sixties and seventies, neighbors looked out for you. If you were doing something you weren”t suppose to be doing, they would tell you, and probably tell your parents. If you needed help, they were there. As children, we must have made a lot of noise on the street, but I never heard a complaint (well, maybe one or two from “The Queen”).

My uncle and father would actually close off the street with police barriers, park a tractor-trailer on 22nd street and use it as a movie screen. We had street parties! This tradition lasted into the seventies. If anyone is interested, I have a picture of Stu dressed as Al Jolsen.

Of course, what makes a place special is the people. I won”t mention some of the families that still live on the street for privacy sake, but I remember some of those who have gone: The Kirers(sp), Mrs. Elliot, The Dyers, The Hoffners, The Brennens (22nd Street at the corner), Aunt Liz”s Family(opposite the Brennens), The Fosters (across 22nd Street), Laurel and others. And there were the passers-by: the Water Ice Man and the Broom Guy.

Neighbors on a small street like Myrtle St. were like family. They saw you at your best and your worse. Family arguments could be heard and even sometimes spilled out onto the street. But like family, it was kept on the street and if not forgiven, at least not mentioned.

While I don”t think I would like to live in a row house again, I can say that my memories and impressions of living on Myrtle Street are mostly good. The people who lived on the street are a part of my past, and I look back on that past fondly.