Because there was a long line and it was just mom and me, another mother/daughter pair were put in the car with us. The moms sat on the outer seats of the carriage. The daughter, who was about my age, and I sat in the middle seats. Off we went.
The other girl and I were having a great time, sliding into each other as we went around turns, grabbing each other’s hands as we raced down down the steep drops. We screamed and laughed the entire time. Because we had day passes, we were able to stay in the car for several rounds until our mothers began to feel ill.
When we got off, the little girl and I hugged and said goodbye. I vaguely noticed our moms acting a little strangely during the rides and goodbyes. They were trading looks, tight smiles, and worried glances when they thought we weren’t looking.
When the day was over and we got in the car to leave, my mom said, “Now you know what it feels like to be a minority.” Oh, mommy and her teaching moments!
I gave her a quizzical look and shook my head. I had no idea what she meant. It turns out the Eastern Union Missionary Baptist Association had done a take-over of the park for the day. My parents had no idea until we were buying tickets. Aside from some of the park employees, we were the only whites there. I had no idea there was anything out of the ordinary going on around me. Mom said, “Well, that’s a positive!”
This was in the 60s when race relations were about as tense as they had ever been in the US — until recent years. I remember my mom wanted so badly to go to Selma and march with Dr. King, but as usual, dad was out of town. I remember vividly when Dr. King was assassinated.
I’ve thought about that girl over the years. I wonder how her life is going. I hope she’s happy, healthy, living life to the fullest, and having a great time!
It's My World 
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