All the Bishop's Children

Episode 3

Chapter 7

Although the Civil Rights Act was signed by President Lyndon B. Johnson in 1964, like many blacks, Rosalind found that having equal rights did not mean equal respect and fair treatment. Being four months pregnant with their second child, Rosalind made an emergency visit to the hospital one evening as she was feeling ill.

“Mama Tess, they had me waiting so long I thought I was going to be there until I completed my nine months and had the baby in my arms before the doctors tended to me,” Rosalind said to her mother-in-law when she finally made it home around 9:30 that night. “To make matters worse, the doctor acted like he did not want to take care of me. Just racist.”

 

Mama Tess looked out the window at a bird flying overhead. Dwight, Rosalind, young DJ, and Mama Tess were taking a Sunday evening ride out of town and into the country -- one of Dwight's favorite things to do with his family.

“Just because they signed a piece of paper does not mean people's hearts are going to change overnight,” Mama Tess said quietly. “America has had these problems for years, and it's going to take years to get rid of it—if it ever goes away.”

Rosalind glanced around in frustration as Dwight drove down the road tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the gospel music that was playing on the radio. She sighed for the fourth time as she thought of the things she would rather spend her Sunday evenings doing -- such as window shopping. “This is such a waste of time, Dwight,” she muttered.

“You didn't have to come. It might have been a more pleasant outing without you.” Dwight had waited at home for an hour until Rosalind returned from yet another visit to the Church of the Living God Pillar of Truth.

“Just because you want to run off to another church does not mean we can't still do things as a family on Sundays. Isn't that right, Mama?” Dwight glanced back at his mother in the rear view mirror.

Rosalind sat in the passenger seat. DJ, now two years old, sat between them. She listened for the most part as her husband and her mother-in-law chatted about their plans for the upcoming week. Rosalind took note of the new model Ford Granadas and BMWs as they passed by. I am going to get me one of those new cars soon, she thought. I am tired of riding in this ol’ jalopy - what do you call it, Oldsmobile Cutlass? You got that right; It’s an old car that needs to be cut up and thrown away.

As they drove through an all-white neighborhood, Rosalind smiled to herself. I'm going to have us a house just as nice, if not nicer… and bigger, too. A man standing by his mailbox stared at them as they passed. He didn’t look too happy. “You better hurry and get us out of this neighborhood before you get these white folks all riled up,” Rosalind said to Dwight.

“You worry too much,” Dwight said turning off onto the main street that ran through the middle of town. “Those days are gone.”

Rosalind shook her head. “You’re too trusting of people. It's a far different atmosphere up North than down here in the South. Blacks up North are freer and move around with more confidence. Blacks down here move more cautiously—almost like they’re afraid.”

“What are you talking about?” Dwight asked. “I got the same spirit I had in New York, and I deal with all people the same—be they black or white, up North or down South.”

“Stop the car right here and I'll show you what I’m talking about,” Rosalind said. She hopped out of the car after her husband pulled over to the curb in front of a delicatessen with two water fountains on either side of the double doors. There was hardly anyone on the street. Rosalind pointed to the faded signs above both water fountains. One was dangling by a single nail and someone had tried to paint over the words written on both, but the faded print could still be seen if one looked close enough. She tried to yank one of them free, but without success.