Some years ago, among my many accomplishments, ha,ha, I drove
a hack in Miami. I worked from six in the morning to six at night,
and sometimes later if I thought I hadn’t made enough.
Occasionally toward the end of my shift, if I were anywhere near
the southern terminus of Amtrak in Hialeah, the airport for instance,
I would go there in hopes of getting a lucrative run to, say,
South Beach or Gables by the Sea.
On one of those nights a middle aged black fellow came out, hopped
into my cab and asked to be taken to OpaLocka, a relatively short
run. I was a bit disappointed, however you take what you get.
On the way we chatted and it turns out he was a career employee
of Amtrak, porter by trade.
When we got to Opalocka he asked me to stop at a liquor store,
which I did, but before he got out he asked me to accompany him.
An unusual request I thought, but complied.
As we entered the store I was taken aback by what I saw.
To the right a bullet-proof glass wall extended from the entrance
to the far wall of the room and reached from the floor to the
ceiling, to the ceiling, mind you. Exchange trays were embedded
in it, the kind you see at bank drive-throughs.
He made his purchase, I drove him home and then headed for mine.
Two thoughts occurred to me on the way; one was that the liquor
store had the security of a Fort Knox and the other was that this
black man, in his own hometown, felt obliged to ask a white man
to accompany him before he entered the store that night.
There is a saying “only in America”, and I’m here to tell you;
that saying encompasses more than you might think.
Islander.