Black and White in Bluefield

 Work in Progress - Subject to Modification

Growing up in Bluefield, I had perhaps a unique experience with race.

My great Uncle Hugh and Aunt Jane were elderly and well to do, lived in a nice, but not splendid home in a good neighborhood, and had a black couple that worked for them. John worked around the house and yard, and drove Uncle Hugh around, while Selena worked in the house. They lived in an apartment above the garage with their children.

I knew that John, Selena and Geraldine, their daughter, were black, of course, but that didn’t matter. I believe that Geraldine had a younger brother, but I didn’t really know him. They were great people; very much like us, except for the color of their skin.

When Dad would take Mom and me to visit Hugh and Jane, after saying hello, I went to find Geraldine, who was about my age, both of us probably about 8 years-old, and we wiled away the time playing around in the yard.

When I was in high school starting in 1959, there were several black students also attending that school. Most black students, however, went to the black junior high and high schools. No rule about that, I think; that’s just the way it was. It was at least partly because the black schools were nearer the black neighborhoods.

In our school of grades 10, 11, and 12, there were probably 10 or 12 black kids out of the thousand or so total student body. We all shared essentially the same values: goals, behavior, and appearance; there was no actual difference based upon one’s race, and in my experience there was no unequal treatment of the two races, either by students or staff and faculty.

While in high school, I worked at the local radio and TV stations, and there were black employees there. Again, no real difference. I worked the AM/FM stations on Sunday mornings, and one program was a black lady who performed gospel music live from our studio along with her three daughters singing backup, and her son playing drums. I was a musician, primarily a trumpet player, but also played electric bass, and played with that group each Sunday. They were great people, very good musicians, and once again, no awareness of racial differences.

When I went to college, I don’t recall any black students, although it may be that there were some that I just did not encounter.

Then came the Air Force. One of my two Basic Training Tis was a black sergeant and other black people on the base. No issues. When I reached my duty station, no issues from other Air Force personnel or base personnel, or from the musicians in the off-base bands I played in or the audiences we played for.

After my separation, I returned to my hometown and went to work again at the radio and TV stations where there black employees. We all got along fine, in a friendly, respectful atmosphere.

In fact, in all those years the only bad experience I had with black people was one time when my cousin and I were walking home after signing off the radio stations after midnight, and were confronted by two black guys who drove up and got out of their car, challenged us, and started a minor scuffle. Pushing them off, we ran off and they didn’t follow us. That’s it. The only negative interaction I remember in my hometown.