Missing Parts

I decided to seek some solace on one of our area lakes this weekend. After all, fishing is a social-distancing approved activity and there is no “Fish Flu” yet. In preparation for this outing, the trailer needed some work so I headed down to O’Reilly Auto Parts to pick up some light bulbs.

An older gentleman stood between me and the checkout. He wanted his parts. He wanted the clerk to order them. He needed them. Yesterday. The clerk at the counter told him he didn’t know when they could get those parts in because eight of their stores in the Cities had shut down as a result of the protests and riots around the killing of George Floyd.

“Fucking Niggers!” the customer spat. “I don’t have time for them.”

My jaw dropped. The clerk looked at me and I looked at him. He didn’t know what to say and to my shame, neither did I at that moment.

I felt shame because I didn’t say anything. Of course, there is probably no way that I would be able to change that man’s mind about much of anything, but the two clerks there should not have had to listen to this kind of hatred as they were probably fearful of losing their jobs if they were to speak up. I wouldn’t have changed this asshole’s mind, but at least I wouldn’t have let that kind of vitriol hang in the aisles of that O’Reilly Auto Parts store unchecked. At least I could have addressed that the protests in the Cities are just a glimpse of the bubbling anger over the unnecessary and horrific killing of George Floyd. In broad daylight, on a city street, with citizens recording the entire thing.

I’ve always known this kind of racism existed, but I thought it was held in check by some kind of invisible contract that confined it to the history books. We had moved beyond the type of outright racism that evokes dark images of the past showing signs that read “Whites Only” and lynchings that inspired songs like “Strange Fruit.” I thought.

The worst part about the whole situation is that this man, who must be one of the most miserable son of a bitches I have ever come across, felt like he was in a safe space to say such things. And I let it happen.

Elie Wiesel said, “We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.” He also said, “The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.” I had a chance to speak up and I didn’t. I wasn’t ready and I didn’t know what to say to that kind of ugliness. I remained on the sidelines. Martin Luther King Jr. said, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

Here in God’s country of the northern part of Minnesota, it is easy to sit back and look at the Twin Cities with a long lens. We are far enough away to be relatively untouched by what is happening a mere two hours away. I will never forget that at that moment, one man’s anger at not being able to get a part for his car was more important than the fact that a man was killed while three officers looked on and a crowd of people pleaded for the fourth officer to take his knee off the handcuffed man’s neck.