‘Why I Am Not A Progressive Quaker” – A Response A few thoughts on Jim Wilson’s post, “Why I am Not a Progressive Quaker.” First, I appreciate that he appears to have read my books on the Progressive Friends movement before commenting on them; not all reviewers take that much time. Second, he credits the Progressive … Continue reading ‘Why I Am Not A Progressive Quaker” – A Response
“You been hitch-hiking all the way?”
“Oh no,” he said. “Only here and there. Out to the camp in Manzanar, where there wasn’t any bus or taxi. And a stretch in Mississippi, after we got bumped from a train by some war shipments or other.
He shook his head. “Same thing happened in Cleveland. The army wants a train, they get it. Then you either wait for the next train, or find some other way. I couldn’t wait anymore, so here I am. That happened to you? Getting bumped from a train, I mean.”
“Um,” I stumbled, “not recently.” I was sure now that I was carrying some kind of mental case. Probably harmless, but not operating in the same dimension.
A blast of static from the radio caught his attention. “That a ball game?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. Pirates and the Cubs.”
“Is that so?” He seemed puzzled. “They in spring training?”
“No,” I began, but then stopped. I had a feeling it wouldn’t do any good to explain that the season was half over. His time sense was clearly out of whack. “Cubs are ahead,” I said lamely.
“Don’t have a radio in my truck,” he said. “Too bad. It’d be good to listen to on some of my runs to the camps.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’d a driven it out here if I could, but o’ course, you can’t get gas, what with the rationing and all.”
While I was trying to remember when there had been gas rationing, he looked around the interior of my Toyota. “Real nice car you got here, friend. You maybe working in the war effort?”
The question caught me off guard. “I-I guess you could say that,” I answered. After all, I thought, what else is designing parts for missiles?
My hesitation seemed to embarrass him. “Gosh, Mr. Nelson, I don’t mean to be asking sensitive questions,” he said hurriedly. “I’m not digging for military secrets or anything. It’s just hard to get away from the war, you know?”
missile-launch
A home run?
“Yeah,” I said, “I know.”
William Bartram: Divergent Friend I’ve taken a fancy to do some traveling for Lent this year. I plan to join William Bartram, an independent-minded Quaker naturalist and artist, in a journey through much of the southeast U.S. This is not the Southeast of today, but that of 1773, so technically there wasn’t a U.S. yet; … Continue reading Traveling With A Divergent Friend For Lent: William Bartram
Jimmie Lee & James: Two Selma Landmarks Jimmie Lee Jackson (left) and James Bonard Fowler: They met fatefully on the night of February 18, 1965, fifty years ago today. The white community of Marion, Alabama, thirty miles northwest of
I’d been in jail for ten days earlier that month, and in that time the movement had been heating up. There were plans to extend its reach to the town of Marion, in the next county over from Selma, with a rally and a night march two days hence — March 18th.
That march would become a turning point in the Selma movement drama. More on that soon. Or you can get the details from my book, Selma 1965, right here.