[ more ] ...
My history continued:   


                                                 My new job, the U.S. Navy
 
 
I was really excited about the possibility of adventure and job opportunities after deciding to join the navy . My first tasks were to hook up with a recruiter, fill out the application, take the written exam and pass the physical. I was pretty good at passing exams and my health was excellent, so I thought . It was a bad time for the physical exam because I was recovering from the flu. You would never think an eighteen year old would have high blood pressure, but there it was.  The nurse had me lie down for one hour but that did not help, so I was turned down and advised to return in one week. I left the recruiter with my tail tucked between my legs feeling just a little unsure about the whole thing but I was determined . This blood pressure test was just a pre-screening, not the actual physical.
 
I returned to get another pre-screening the following week and my blood pressure had returned to an acceptable level, so I was given a Greyhound bus ticket to travel from Trenton, Tennessee to Memphis Tennessee where the actual physical exam and other processing would take place . It was here that I was actually sworn into the navy. In addition to the bus ticket I was given a hotel voucher and two meal tickets, one for the evening of arrival and one for lunch the next day. The hotel was located on Beale street in Memphis. I believe Beale street was considered the home of the blues  but at any rate, it was an all black, Afro American section at the time. I don’t really remember much about the hotel so I guess it was ok. But that evening brought a more memorable occasion. I found the restaurant designated for my evening meal and oh, oh, it was a white restaurant . During that time, September 1959, all Afro Americans were forced to enter all the white establishments, including their homes, through the rear entrance. I guess I was always a little rebellious and refused to honor the southern white Americans with such nonsense , so I strolled into the joint through the front door and was met half way by a man I presumed to be the manager or owner. His greeting was ‘can I hep ya’ ? I hungrily replied, I am here to eat supper and handed him the meal ticket. He read it, scratched his head, and then asked, the navy sent you here? I said yes, rather than the expected yes sir, and he said hmmm, hmmm, follow me .
 
If you did not grow up in the Jim Crow south and must rely upon the various stories you may have heard, I’ll just bet you are thinking he took me straight to jail, did not pass go, and did not collect $200. If you grew up in the south during this time frame or earlier, you know this was not the game called Monopoly and you probably already know he lead me into the kitchen to eat among the cooks, pots and pans, and other kitchenly things . The kitchen became my dining room and the heavy blue smoke served as my scenic backdrop. The kitchen was very crowded and there were two large colored women cooking and sweating profusely , may I say colored, that is how we identified in those days? Next to a wall there stood a very large chopping block in the form of a big dirty tree stump . One of the kind lady cooks placed a table cloth over the tree stump, and that my friends, became my table. The kitchen was so full of heavy, acrid, blue smoke, I could hardly breath . Well, I must tell you the colored cafés and restaurants that I was accustomed to, were well below par, but never had I encountered this level of indignation. So once again I tucked my tail between my legs and settled into the rickety folding chair provided by the cooks and started to enjoy some of the best spaghetti and meat balls of my entire life . I was so stuffed, I nearly had to roll myself out of the restaurant . The fellow who met me in the dining room never even looked in to see if I had survived.
 
The next day was the day of my physical examination and swearing in. So I walked around on Beale street of Memphis Tennessee, doing a little sight seeing the night before and then resigned to my colored hotel room. After opening up everything possible orifice in my body, the next day, they gave me a clean bill of health. After all the body pressing and thumping ended, I was sworn in, like a good little boy. Dedicated to protecting my wonderful country, even to the laying down of my life, I proceeded to the airport. The airport, I was really looking forward to that experience. I wondered was boarding a plane like boarding the train or bus, where you headed for the colored car on the train or the back of the bus . Obviously the airport was not built to facilitate people of African American decent, because the familiar dirty, smoky, little waiting room found in train and bus stations was missing. I performed my usual Soul Train stroll right through the dining room door of the restaurant within the airport and presented my meal ticket. This time the scenario was different from the former one the night before, no one scratched their head. The waiter told me ‘wait here’ while he fetched the airport or restaurant manager, I don’t know which . I started to wonder what was going on back there between the waiter and his manager, it took the waiter quite a while do his thing, was he scolding the waiter  for admitting a colored customer into the restaurant?   But he did finally return.
 
You will never guess what happened next. The waiter returned with the manager who was very gentlemanly and courteous . He kindly invited me into his private dining room , rather clandestingly, barely speaking above a whisper.   There were chandeliers and other fancy stuff and he motioned for me to be seated at one of the tables. Mind you, there was no one in this dining room but the manager and me. He sat across from me and struck up a conversation . After ordering my meal, I ate in some of the greatest luxury I had ever seen up to that point in my life. He went to great lengths to see that I did eat, but not in the same room with the priviledged white population. In restrospect, it was a mixed blessing and so were my emotions. Anyway, the food was good. Well that is enough to digest at one time.

Click the ... [ More ] ... to continue reading.  =================================>

We encourage your feedback: Click or tap the ... [ Send-Feedback ] ... link at the top of this page.
about_al_ward_2001010.jpg about_al_ward_2001009.jpg about_al_ward_2001008.jpg about_al_ward_2001007.jpg about_al_ward_2001006.jpg about_al_ward_2001005.jpg about_al_ward_2001004.jpg about_al_ward_2001003.jpg about_al_ward_2001002.jpg about_al_ward_2001001.jpg