Think About It. Hoods and Candy. Speaking of the KKK. Let’s. On the street outside the front window was a burning cross providing ample light to view the eerie eyes peeking through pointy hoods atop the flowing tailored sheets worn by a sort-of marching group. Urgenese had cranked the delicious fresh peach ice-cream while the white household and guests of a local pastor were finishing dinner in Greenville, Mississippi. Far from sage, this thirteen year old boy couldn’t hide his apprehension. Assured that the parade was headed for a different and darker neighborhood, I watched with wonder at a strange sight I could never forget.
My next viewing was 1996. In the early morning , there were charred crosses burning at the four highway entrances to what was once called Duck Creek. Locals called it Quincy next, but changed it again when the USPS blew the whistle. Seems there was already a town with that name somewhat southwest of Indianapolis. So, after an extensive study for several minutes, they asked the name of a young boy playing near the small downtown gathering. Elwood it was and since 1869, Elwood it is.
Local business owners told me they wouldn’t complain about the late-night burning, fearing retribution from the possibly well known local officials who may have sparked the flames on these misused symbols. Midsummer meetings in front of City Hall also went uninhibited by authorities.
Clearly these immaculately gowned citizens had a Superior Education. Youngest of our family clan, Wade, is President of Dream Weaver Advertising which owns radio stations. Wanting the best possible disc jockey for an important part of the radio day in 1999, he brought in one of the smoothest music presenters in the area. Fearful during her entire stay, she headed out of town for home as long before dark as possible. Since non-whites were clear about their lack of welcome there, one wonders why the secret public statement by the sheeted moralists continued. Preventative action no doubt.
A couple of years ago the fortunate citizens of Seneca, South Carolina where treated to bags of candy accompanied by a note saying “Save Our Land, Join the Klan.” The local klaliff (vice president) of the Loyal White Knights says the offering produces some 20,000 calls a day following the sweet invitations. Perhaps they’re testing children hopefully told not to take treats from strangers. Or perhaps these strange people don’t seem unfamiliar in that community. An area resident did register his outrage by saying he thought the generous gifts were “unacceptable” in his neighborhood.
It seems to be a tough task quenching the fire in Greenville or Elwood or Seneca, with men of such high standards, schooled in pyromania spreading their far-out philosophy all over the land. How on earth do they convince these brainiacs that hating everyone with different heritage is a good idea? It must be the insuperable attraction of Hoods and Candy. Think About It.