I got up early and made it to Starbucks, alone. Yesterday we went to the Rosa Parks Museum. There are two sides of the place, a pre-1955/Children’s side and the post-1955/Museum side. Each side would have cost $37, $74 for both. We went with the kids side. It was pretty much a video, but you sit in a bus “time machine” while screens show the story of discrimination.
It couldn’t have been more than a 20-minute video. There was hardly a mention, much less, the story of Rosa Parks. I read about it before we went and was surprised by what I didn’t know. I didn’t realize she was involved with the NAACP. Her nonviolent protest and arrest spurred involvement by Martin Luther King, Jr. who was a new pastor in Montgomery. He was elected to head an action group which began a bus boycott that lasted more than a year and resulted in segregation laws being tossed. I was amused by reading about the efforts of Montgomery to ban boycotts during that year. Whattastupidwhitemalethingtodo.
We walked to the capital building afterward. Montgomery is a quiet town with so many eerie symbols. We saw historic markers where Rosa Parks got on the bus that night, where slaves were traded nearby years prior, where she got arrested, where the march from Selma ended, where MLK, Jr. preached. Also evident were symbols and memorials to the old South.
In central Texas we had noticed Confederate flags, which have been taken down in most places because of a church shooting in South Carolina a year ago. The white shooter wore a confederate flag patch on his jacket. It is actually part of the Mississippi flag.
This area doesn’t look prosperous. There doesn’t seem to be much industry in Mississippi and Alabama. It’s such a different place.
I can’t understand it. I found numbers from 4 to 10 million Africans were killed in the slave trade. Others had their lives, families, destinies, taken from them. There are no memorials to Hitler, but Jefferson Davis has schools named after him and memorials all over the South. People drive around with these fucking flags all over their trucks and hanging in their yards, while songs of freedom play.
It was sickening to me.
After the Rosa Parks Museum, we went to a soul/southern restaurant recommended on TripAdvisor. It’s in a residential area, in a little house. I was a bit afraid to go in. I was afraid to go in Walmart the other night. I thought we we would stick out, in a bad way. It was obvious we aren’t from here. It’s probably good to experience that.