Today, after reading a message board post by a Southerner who was defending someone for proudly displaying the Confederate flag, I was reminded of an experience I had in Thailand in the Air Force in 1968:
It is hard to forget my first day in Thailand as a 20-year-old Airman in the U.S. Air Force. The date was April 4, 1968.
As I was boarding the plane to go to Thailand, a close African American friend of mine, James Brown, looked ashen pale with tears running down his face. He turned and said, “they killed my man.” He was referring to MLK, who was shot moments earlier in Memphis, Tennessee.
The plane ride was quiet. I noticed another African American from D.C., who was a chaplain’s aid, crying silently as he sat two rows behind me.
When we got to Thailand, we were shown our living quarters- a room with two bunk beds and a single bed. I took the top bunk, and James settled in a room across the hall.
As I climbed to my top bunk, there was a commotion going on in the room partitioned next to me.
There were five servicemen having what sounded like a party. And to my surprise right on the same wall near my bed a huge Confederate flag was displayed.
Being curious, I walked to the room and was told by my new neighbors they were celebrating the death of Dr. Martin Luther coon. They said it sort of quietly to me, obviously worried over the fact that nearly 25% of the floor was African American.
I was amazed that this brazen and open racist group was tolerated by the many African American troops on the floor. And I knew this would soon change with James Brown there.
He was a huge guy who lifted weights and was far ahead of my politically naive 20- year- old mind, which was more interested in going to town every night.
Ironically, a year after leaving Thailand, I was in charge of marching Air Force prisoners to chow every day in Denver, Colorado (Lowry AFB.) James Brown was one of the prisoners.
His final week in Thailand, he almost beat a Southern Airman to death for calling him a stupid ######. Those were some hostile times and James just lost it for a moment.
However, one of his accomplishments was leading a group to rip the Confederate flag off the wall and destroying it. First, James went to the higher ups to complain before taking any action, and I and five others stood behind him.
Nothing was done. The flag stayed, and I will never forget James’ words to the Lt. Colonel as he left the room- “We are going to rip that mother ####er down if you don’t.” I nearly peed my pants, asking, “what did I get myself into.” But when I saw the Colonel do nothing when James said that, I was even more shocked.
I later learned that the Colonel had a Quaker background and probably sided with us, but did not show it.
The flag was torn down and burned by James a week later. I am proud to say it was my nervous and somewhat drunken hand which ripped it off the wall and handed it to James and 4 others in our party while the rednecks were eating in the chow hall before going to their midnite shift.
I am truly not trying to impress anyone for my actions in this story; if it had not been for James, the flag would have stayed there, and my naive self would have probably slept for the rest of the year across from it.
This old duffer just wanted to reminisce and also respond to the message board remarks about the Confederate flag. I believe the Confederate flag, like the swaztika, has no place in any civilized society other than to be scorned for what it represents. Those that identify with that flag are not doing so because of Southern culture or tradition; they are doing so out of hatred and a yearning to go back to the more oppressive past. Peace