My next encounter came in 1972. I was a young married woman with two small children. My sister and I with our children had gone to visit family in the next town. It was in November and it was very cold. By the time we started home it was already dark and it had started to rain heavily. We were driving along a seldom used road with no street lights or houses. The nearest business was about three miles away. Suddenly the car died, and my sister managed to coast it to the side of the road. Unbelievably we were out of gas at the worst of possible location.

We were both very concerned as we weighed our options. There was no way we could take the children out in the rain. We had always been taught to do things in pairs so the thought of one of us walking alone in the night was terrifying. Finally it was decided that the best course of action would be to lift the hood and wait for a good Samaritan. Thirty minutes, forty-five minutes, an hour, went by not one car stopped. By now the kids were cold, tired and hungry and their distress added to our nervousness.

Just as we were reconsidering the idea of walking headlights pulled up behind us. I was immediately filled with relief but it was fleeting. The man who emerged from the truck behind us was huge

and as he approached our vehicle I realized he was black. I was so scared, part of me wanted to lock the doors and send him away. Thankfully practicality ruled over fear as he came to the drivers window. My sister had froze, so I reached over her and rolled down the window.

When he spoke his voice was kind and I started to relax as I explained our predicament. He told me he was on his way to work,

so he had no time to go get gas and come back. He said however

that the nearest gas station was on his way and if we wished he would tow us there. We agreed, and as I watched him out in the cold drenching rain hooking up the car to his truck I thought he was one of the most amazing persons I had ever met. To put one’s

self out for complete strangers was an act of kindness that I had never witnessed before. When he said good-by at the gas station I offered him money, he refused. I was glad because that would have made it to easy for me say “ well we paid him”. It would have in my mind excused the debt of gratitude that we owed this man. I wish I could say I never told another ethnic joke after that, or that I stood up in defense when others did. but that would be a lie.

Over the next thirty years I have had many black friends and coworkers and yes they’ve been to my home and I to theirs.

My evolution was slow but I believe it’s now complete. Not so long ago I hung up the phone on a family member who called the president the N word.

I wish I could say that was true of my entire family. Sadly that too would be a lie. I watched recently, as one of them cringed when a black toll takers hand accidentally touched hers as she handed him her money I don’t know why this is, perhaps because we don’t always share the same experiences. If that isso then I am truly the lucky one.