I sold my soul to acquire this vintage table from my Hitler-loving war vet neighbor.
Despite all that, I actually felt a little sorry for him. Sad, even. I can somewhat understand that he must have endured and suffered the horrors of the Korean War (I saw his hat and jacket emblazoned with it). To an extent. Not that it excuses his racist behavior, but it somewhat helps to explain his actions. To an extent. I even convinced myself that maybe he's actually just a senile old man who is prone to on and off moments, and that maybe I caught him during an off moment that one time. Maybe he just didn't realize what he was saying. After all, he *did* walk right past me yesterday when I was stoop-sitting with FurFur without looking at me or saying anything discriminatory.
Like I said, I felt a little sorry for this introverted, old war vet. Until today.
I was anxiously awaiting the Cubs game to wrap up (1 more inning) so that I could send The Fella to the vet's weekend garage sale and anonymously buy me the vintage end table and French wine box I saw while passing by earlier. (I didn't dare set foot in his dungeon. Is it wrong that the thrill of obtaining worldly treasures trumps my overarching values?) Twenty minutes later, The Fella runs back home with my purchases in hand, saying, "You were right. He *is* a Nazi."
And here follows a rundown of their conversation. In only twenty minutes time we learned THIS much:
Vet: "Do you live in this neighborhood?"
The Fella: "Yes, not far."
Vet: "Good, we need more of our people around here. This neighborhood used to be overrun with black people! I would chase them away with my guns. Why do they call them African-American? They're Africans, they're black. Not American!"
Vet: "Do you like Hitler?"
The Fella: "No."
Vet: "I like Hitler!"
Hi, Jamie,
ReplyDeleteI love the unique lines of the table you found. When you refinish it, it will be a treasure. Sadly, your encounter with this Korean veteran was very symbolic of the hatred that exists in the world. Yet events like this can be very full of special lessons...I have one of my own to share...In 1988, after years of suffering, my father was dying with Alzheimer's. My mother had to sell their little home in Florida which contained the last of their special treasures. At that time, she was giving away so much of her life represented by the furnishings. One day when packing, Mother insisted that I receive a small Waterford vase that her miserable daughter-in-law, my brother's wife, had given her years before. Dad, Mom, and I had all experienced years of painfully hateful problems with this woman. So I really tried to avoid receiving the gift. Then Mom sternly insisted, "You MUST take it and keep it!" So I took the vase reluctantly...Over the years, I have looked at the crystal piece often. Each time, I have vowed to remember some of the better things this relative did in her life and forgive the hateful ones. I knew my mother had a terrible life as an orphan whom no one wanted. She also especially hated the Nazis. It was very hard for her to learn forgiveness regarding all the pain she had experienced. Yet as life went on, she finally did bit by bit until at the end she forgave it all. This was the lesson Mother had wanted me to experience... Small things can come into our lives and mean a lot... Now may your little table with the lovely curved edges bring you good luck and love and help to soften the harsher lines that life also brings us in the form of hate and prejudice...
With love, Mama Rose
Arlene, that's a lovely story with some good lessons in it. Thank you for sharing.
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