"No Room for Racism"

that is what the sign said in the back of my car window 19 years ago. I remember picking up my grandparents in Fresno and as my grandpa got in the car hauling his oxygen tank in he said, "Can I get in?" and he laughed. It was not a mean laugh, but rather a laugh of acknowledgment. My grandpa was a preacher and when I knew him, as I knew him and as I remember him he was not a racist but a man of God who welcome all in his church.

When my grandpa's health problems forced him and my grandma (the giggler) to leave the Church of Christ in Fremont to retire, they went to the home they owned in Fresno. There he was to rest. However, God had another plan (funny how God always does). My grandpa was called to yet preach again at a rural church (literally a two room church) in the middle of farm land. I think it is Road 22 Ave 12 right outside of Fresno or maybe Road 12 Ave 22. In the room where my grandpa last preached where the poorest of poor and an elderly black who came every week to hear grandpa preach. I said hear because the man could not see, he was blind. I will never forget that.

Here's why.

That day 19 years ago, when I picked up my grandparents we were going to a family reunion as we did every May. I remember that day like it was yesterday for some reason. My grandpa kidded I had lead a foot and laughed some more but it was the under currents of that day as I remember.

It was the whispers. The haunting of past generations being heard. Apparently without my grandpa's knowledge KKK meetings were held in the church where he preached in the south so many, many years before. Times were different then. It made my stomach turn. God is not a racist and neither should a place of worship be. I am not sure how the meetings stopped or if my grandpa moved on. Perhaps someday I will get the rest of the story.

Fast forward a few years down the road. My grandpa had passed and another family reunion was held. Talk there was how Snoop Dog might be related to us. You see Broadus/Broaddus are not common surnames.

I could hear my grandpa laughing now. I actually think grandpa might like a good clean rap about no room for racism.