I'm a walker, and El Dorado's 167 Bypass is my usual route. (I switched from jogging to walking after reading "Why Walking is the Best Exercise" on the Internet).
It's about as boring as any walking area you can imagine, so I try to mix it up by sometimes going from downtown to our house on Calion Road. Vertis and I start our day before our 7 a.m. meeting downtown with Teresa, our property manager, over a cup of P.J.'s coffee. That's where I start my walk home. It's a little less than three miles, and I want to get the walk in before it hits 90 degrees. The difference between temperatures of 75-85 and 85-95 degrees and shady streets vs. open sun on the Bypass is enough to get up and get going early.
Walking toward my house from downtown is sure better than out on the Bypass with cars zooming by. The neighborhood walks are more scenic, and homeowners, walkers, and runners are plentiful.
I was about a half mile from downtown on Madison Avenue when I passed another walker on the other side of the street. We both said, "Good morning" and then he said, "Hey, Mr. Mason ..." as he walked over to say something. I stopped, and the first thing he said was, "You know I disagree with a lot of your columns ..." And I thought, oh no, here it comes. Then he said, "But your Sunday column was right on target."
I smiled, and we had a good conversation about using the Ouachita River for recreation and lowering the water to the pre-1960s level. Then he said, "You know, I think what this country needs is more dialogue." Of course, I agreed with him.
As I continued north on Madison Avenue, I noticed another walker approaching, which frequently happens. I said, "Mornin'," but the lady just stared straight ahead and ignored my greeting. I thought maybe she didn't hear me so I quickly said louder, "Mornin'," and then the rascal in me came out as she ignored me again, and I said, "Have a nice day."
I don't think I look like a threatening hulk at 6'2" and 165 pounds, and I do have a few years on me. My first thought was that she must not be from around here. Or maybe her mama had told her not to speak to strangers. But this ain't New York City, and that was the first time I was totally ignored by another runner or walker.
I don't expect a verbal reply every time I pass someone. Many times I just raise my hand in a friendly recognition. I know the lady who ignored me might have had weighty matters on her mind, but my point is this: In our country, over the last few years, we have developed an ignore or hate your neighbor attitude if that neighbor is on opposite sides of the political spectrum. But what this country desperately needs right now is more friendships, dialogue, and tolerance.
The Lord didn't say love your friends and hate your enemies. Southerners have a heritage of being hospitable, and let's don't lose that. We are outgoing. We hug (when there's not a pandemic) and on a slow drive on a back road I will frequently give a passing pickup a high sign. This country needs more of that, not less. Our adult families, who are scattered across the state, are about as mixed politically as possible, and when we meet it's not time to line up and yell. We don't agree on a lot of things, including politics, but we do agree on loving each other, and being respectful of each other's opinions.
Our country is over 200 years old, and we've been through worse times than what we're going through now. We'll get through this current political fight and pandemic, but we all would be better off if we could show a little tolerance and take our feelings off our shoulders. This country is really one big family, and when something from outside strikes us, such as 9/11, we pull together and forget our differences. A loss in New York City hurts as much as a loss in Little Rock. We have the ability to act as one when something horrible strikes a part of the country, and maybe where we need to start is just to say Mornin' to each other.
Another interesting incident occurred several days later in front of our local Walmart Supercenter. When Vertis needs only a couple of items, I let her out at the entrance then drive around to where I can see her when she comes out the exit. That morning I was waiting for her to come out when I noticed a couple walking toward the entrance of the store. He was smoking, and as they approached the entrance, they stopped while he took a few more puffs. As they started in, he tossed the cigarette butt in the street. He turned to go into the store, but his wife didn't. She walked out into the street and stepped on the smoldering butt, picked it up, and took it to a cigarette collecting container. I thought that was great, rolled down my window, and yelled, "Good for you!" and gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled.
That same weekend, we headed downtown to watch the Black Lives Matter group march from the football stadium down North West Avenue to downtown. It was a good-sized crowd, around 250, that gathered on the east side of the courthouse. In El Dorado, most of the active members of our community, the law enforcement officers, and almost all of our local store owners know each other, both black and white. We stood there with the crowd as other downtown merchants handed out cold bottles of water, and visited with friends.
Almost everyone had on a mask, and as the speakers addressed the crowd, and we mingled with a lot of people we knew, I remarked to Vertis that these were our neighbors, and although El Dorado is not a perfect town, and there are unequal opportunities for some of the black community, we respect each other, and the community as a whole wants to work together to make sure every person is treated fairly and with respect.
It was a peaceful wakeup call to our city, telling everyone who will listen that we can do better. I for one came away from that march committed to do as much as I can to be sure everyone in our town is respected and given the American opportunity to have the best life possible.
And to my readers: Mornin'.
Email Richard Mason at richard@gibraltarenergy.com.