Memoirous

End of August and my memories roll around to Fred. Fred Burkhart legendary artist and photographer, and, most importantly FRIEND died August 30, 2014. Wow, Fred has it been 3 years? I wonder what Fred would be thinking these days. You see he was a pioneer, taking photos (not taking he’d say, the subject gave him their images, their permission) of the early Gay Pride parades in New Town now Boys Town. He also did a photo series on the Ku Klux Klan. He was able to draw them in, never saying he believed what they did, but in general, being a curious, open guy. They invited him into their homes. He had photos of a KKK member and his kids eating breakfast, he had pics of the kids dressed up in dad’s KKK outfit, saluting a Nazi flag. They were incriminating, astoundingly honest photos. photo credit: Fred Burkhart Until a member asked, “When are you going to join us, bro?” “I'd join the Girl Scouts before I joined you clowns,” Burkhart replied. That led to a beatin...

This is the phrase that keeps popping up inside my head. What does this mean? It’s a bit like pre-destination. People are either born with it or without. Despite DNA, personality, determination, physical ability. A master race is about who your parents and grandparents are. The color of your skin, the color of your eyes, the shape of your lips, nose. Growing up, even as a little kid, I knew all these distinctions who so unfair. Yet, I didn’t know what to do. I remember my father shouting at the TV, at a black football player, C’mon you spook, pick up the ball! I remember Howard Cosell, TV sports commentator, calling an African-American player a monkey. My father referred to Brazil nuts on the bridge mix as “nigger toes.” I also remember a tension rising up inside of me, an inner voice whispering: This isn’t right. No one had to tell me. Of course I was curious. Were Jews schemers? Money grabbers? I had no idea, I’d never met any. Until one day in 3 rd grade for sh...