Occasionally, a mid-night hour in these my twilight years, finds sleep evasive. Such was the case this past Saturday night. My mind was occupied with thoughts of youthful days growing up in East St. Louis. Perhaps that 'thought-seed' was planted by a video clip sent to me earlier in the day by my son. The video was that of the landmark Shriners' Ainad Temple in East St. Louis. The magnificent building was used by my high school for boys' basketball practices and games; it was my 'home' for three years; a temple-gym of endless memories.
I suppose the crux of my sleeplessness pivots on the reality that I cannot 'go home.' I cannot walk those streets of my youth. The Jones Park baseball diamond and lagoon where I sat with my high school sweetheart (Gerry) sharing park bench kisses is off limits to this old man. The various neighborhoods were I played and laughed with friends may not be traversed by this seventy-six year old native.
Just as many East St. Louis 'Blacks' could not be in my neighborhoods in 1940, because of their color; today, I cannot be in my hometown neighborhood because of MY color. Oh, I have gone back a few times. Unfortunately, I know that I am unwelcome as I drive down familiar side streets observing the disdainful glares from many residents.
When I think about not being able to spend leisurely time in my hometown; Sometimes I am angry. Sometimes I feel hurt. Mostly I feel sad.
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