INAUGURATION: A VERY PERSONAL REFLECTION

Sent to my sons and daughters, January 20, 2009

Kids,

I have spent most of the last 7 hours watching the inauguration events. It has been an emotional experience. Several times I was aware of tears flowing down my cheeks. Why?

First, of course, is the reality of a black president. I grew up racist-and didn't know it. As a very young lad I would go to grandpa Kieschnick's farm. The black workers would come to grandma and grandpa's house for dinner at noon, usually only one of two of them. They always sat at a table on the porch while we ate at the dining room table. They had good food, but not what we had. We ate better!

One night I sat in the dark with them around a well (I was maybe 10.) They told stories and stuff with sexual content. At one point one of them even said to me "You know what we're talkin about?" I don't remember how I answered but the truth is I didn’t have a clue! Grandpa respected his black workers who were more or less freed slaves. They were free to come or go but they were also completely dependent. I always remember Grandpa's funeral. As the hearse passed through at least one of the many gates from grandpa's home to the country road to get to the church-a black man stood at the gate, dressed in very best, holding the reins of his horse in one hand and his other hand over his heart. He was respectful. It was completely out of the question that he could possibly go into the church as part of a white congregation at the funeral.

Sometimes we would drive past Weir to go to Grandma Doering's farm. We were on the back of Uncle Ben's old International truck. There was black family that lived near the road on the way to the farm. When we would drive by that place the back children would come out and we would hurl comments (and I am sure racial slurs) at each other. I remember once the black Mother came out. She helped lower trousers and lift skirts and the kids mooned us. We laughed uproariously. Concurrently Aunt Mattie was consistently helping those families. When they had no money and no food they would come to the Henry Doering Mercantile Store in Walburg and Aunt Mattie "extended credit" to them: Of course that money was never paid. It was possibly an effort to save some self-respect for all involved.

When I worked at Wukash Brothers Cafe as a high school student I had very special relationship with Joe the black dishwasher. We bet 5 cents every day on the total number of lunches we would serve. I did the dishes for him when he finally got a day off for “June teenth" the day Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation; yet-if ever a black person or group wanted to eat at the restaurant they were not allowed to enter the front door. They needed to come to the alley and then sit on the back stoop of the cafe to eat what was provided.

I have a clear memory of sitting in high school class and Prof. George Beto making a reference to a black lawyer. George Winkler, my classmate. somehow or other indicated that this was incomprehensible. Beto jumped on him. I remember very clearly my feeling "Oh. I understand what George is thinking; I have never heard of and cannot possibly imagine a black becoming a lawyer. I wonder if Beto is really telling the truth!"

Also during high school during World War II I went to church at St. Paul's Lutheran. A black soldier (1st Lt. US Army) walked into church and sat in the middle of the church. An usher came to him and asked him to leave, finally agreed to let him sit in the back row!

Several of us Texans took the train to Chicago for our first year in college. We changed trains in St. Louis. We got to a car, which had seats available. I turned and said to the guys "Hey, we can’t sit here. This is for the colored!" The black conductor in a loud voice instructed, "That car is just fine for you damn Southerners!

The stories go, as did my all too slow enlightenment and repentance. I pause to give thanks to a few of those black people who helped me out of my ignorance: Pete Pero, Julius Jenkens, Bill Griffin, Orlando Gober, So- when today we inaugurated a back person elected to the highest office of the land I rejoiced-so much so that I wept!

The second profound moments came to me during the speech. But first, a bit if background. I, of course, have been most unhappy with the administration of the past 8 years-considering these years to be among the worst in our country's history. Yet I am proud to be an American and value my USA Passport beyond words. That feeling is never stronger than when I travel overseas. In the last few years, however, I have almost become defensive. Whether in China, Brazil, Finland, Palestine, Germany-every one of those countries - I have had persons come up to me (some well known to me-others strangers). In each case they approached me respectfully and hesitantly. Yet in every case they came to question how it can be that the USA has changed its image in the world. It has been seen as a bully, a user of torture, a naysayer to immigrants, a country so admired and now so disappointing. When Obama spoke of reaching out to all, of having ideals, which we stick too even in the face of threat, of conversation rather than mandates. My heart rejoiced.

The road ahead is incredibly tough. The reality of what the president can accomplish falls far short of the promises made during a campaign or even an inauguration speech. Yet it is a moment of hope- a time to put into place our best instincts- a time to cling to our highest ideals, a time to hope.

One final footnote: I watched finally the Obama's get out of their limo to enter the White House. I tried to remember if this was the entrance I had used some 35 years ago when I had been invited to the White House for a meeting with the president. I thought, "Well, I guess if a Lutheran teacher's son and a Lutheran teacher himself can be a guest there, and a black man can be president there then God indeed is hearing my prayer "God bless America and the world! "

dad