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Posted by on Mar 2, 2020 in Blog, Essays | 0 comments

A Bridge to the Ugly Past and an Even More Shameful Reminder of the Present

 

pettus bridge

 

I wish I could say I’m amused. But I’m not amused.

I wish I could say I’m shocked. But I’m not shocked.

I wish I could say I’m done writing about ignorance and stupidity in America. But I’m not done writing about ignorance and stupidity in America.

Today marked the 55th anniversary of the Selma civil rights march, which turned into America’s “Bloody Sunday.”

It happened at a bridge named after Edmund W. Pettus — a Confederate general and head of the Alabama Ku Klux Klan. Perhaps we can forgive naming a bridge after this traitorous racist scumbag during the 1920s, a time when Dixie was misty-eyed for the Old Confederacy. Perhaps we can overlook that historical blight and simply do the right thing now by taking a couple of gallons of white paint and slapping a fresh new coat over that dead rebel’s disgraced name.

But we can’t. Look! There it is. The decomposed bigot and favorite son of Alabama — he’s still with us today. Every time someone drives on that bridge and passes under that name, he’s remembered, when he should be buried and long ago forgotten.

It’s 2020 folks — tell me why THIS FUCKING BRIDGE hasn’t been renamed? I did some research that renaming a bridge on a state highway requires approval by Alabama State Legislature. So GET OFF YOUR RACIST ASSES, bigots. Do something.

Yeah, I know. You’re White. You’re nice to Black people. You even have a Black friend or two. There’s no way you’re a racist. Heavens, no.

So, you’re sick of hearing about racism in America? Yeah, me too — I’m sick of hearing about it. I’m sick of writing about it.

As long as we see shit like this, it’s pretty hard to say we’ve made enough progress since that sad day in 1965.

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