Immediately. Forever. In the Middle of the Night.

Tuesday was the anniversary of the 1969 assassination of Fred Hampton, the 21-year-old leader of the Chicago Black Panther Party. Fifty-four years ago, when I first saw the next morning’s Washington Post headline, I was instantly convinced that the Chicago police had done it, that they were lying about it and that they would getContinue reading “Immediately. Forever. In the Middle of the Night.”

White Wife/Blue Baby

I’m using the title White Wife/Blue Baby for my forthcoming memoir. When the phrase first hit me, my psychological hair stood on end. I married across the color line in ‘68, and our daughter was born not getting enough oxygen, two facts with ambulance sirens attached to them. When I first referred to my titleContinue reading “White Wife/Blue Baby”

White Girl Mistakes: The Gun

The doorbell finally rang. I’d been waiting, hurt, while my entirely Midwestern baked chicken and Idaho potatoes dinner cooled in the kitchen. I was going to definitely tell Emmon how I felt. But when I swung the door open, he came in hurriedly with hunched shoulders and without meeting my eyes. Sitting on the edgeContinue reading “White Girl Mistakes: The Gun”

White Girl Mistakes #2

State Street Where I came from, a suburb right outside Chicago, people knew we had done the wrong thing to Negroes. Still, they weren’t sure they could side with Martin Luther King, whose namesake had defied the Pope. And how bad were the problems, anyway? The Catholic schools I attended mid-century taught Chicago history thatContinue reading “White Girl Mistakes #2”