Harry's Gang: Black and white issues are still not black and white

The Minnesota Board of Pardons is planning to issue its first ever posthumous pardon to a black man convicted of rape in Duluth. Many of you already know the story: In 1920, six black circus workers were arrested after being accused of rape and burglary against a white woman and her boyfriend. The outrage, probably due to commonly held racist beliefs at the time, was intense. A mob stormed the jail and eventually hung three of the men, in public, along First Street in downtown Duluth. A memorial to the three men — Isaac McGhie, Elmer Jackson and Elias Clayton — stands at the corner of First Street and Second Avenue East in downtown Duluth. All three men were probably innocent, but certainly were deprived of their Constitutional rights.

One of the survivors was later convicted of rape and sentenced to Stillwater, eventually being discharged and sent back to Alabama. The evidence against him was thin, at best. But at the time, black men were typically “guilty unless proven innocent.” It stayed that way until the civil rights movement and, some say, still exists in some form yet today.

That was 1920, a year after my dad was born, and only a couple blocks away from his childhood home. I often marveled that such racism and lawlessness existed in my father’s lifetime, so close to my hometown — I grew up in Two Harbors. I experienced very little racism. I had a friend from India who would get curious stares when he came to visit us, but that was about it. Most “racist” jokes were directed at Finns, Swedes and Polish people.

Soon after childhood I learned that racism was rampant in America. At college, and later living in the Twin Cities area, I saw examples of racism that shocked this small-town boy. It turned out that racism wasn’t reserved for my father’s time. It lived among mine, too.

A few years ago my wife’s job took us to Washington, D.C. and I spent three years living in Alexandria, right across the Potomac from our nation’s capital. Living in the South, we saw all sorts of clashes. I once walked into a hair salon to get a haircut and the sign said “Walk-Ins Welcome,” which, I thought, meant everyone. It didn’t. Conversation among the eight black customers getting their hair done by eight black stylists stopped. I asked if I could get haircuts for my boys. Fortunately, I was too embarrassed to turn around and leave, and everyone treated us very politely, but it was clear we didn’t belong there.

We spent a lot of time at the Alexandria library: a big, beautiful building that, until 1964, did not allow black people. We didn’t know that until we visited the local Black History Museum, which was located in the old “black” library, built in the 1940s for the local black community. It was four cinderblock walls: no heat, two windows, and tiny.

When black people were finally allowed in the nice library in 1964, the black library closed down. My kids pointed out that 1964 was the year I was born, realizing that, in their father’s lifetime, black people were not allowed in some public spaces.

My kids were in awe. They couldn’t understand the racism. What did skin color have to do with wanting to read books in a library? I said it was much more complicated than that, and that they will understand what led to racism as they grew up.

A few days ago, Patrick told me about some racism he saw at school. Apparently, a person in his group made an extreme reference about Native Americans. Patrick was upset.

“I guess it’s easier to make blanket comments about people than it is to get to know them,” he said. He still has a lot to learn — he’s only 10 — but I hope his children perceive the racism he’s seen in his lifetime as similarly outrageous.

Pete Radosevich is the publisher of the Pine Knot News community newspaper and an attorney in Esko who hosts the cable access talk show Harry’s Gang on CAT-7. His opinions are his own. Contact him at Pete.Radosevich@Pine KnotNews.com.