My Redacted Life: Chapter Two: (Cont. _ 3)

I had one hand on the door that would open my way back to San Francisco, California when the name of another city was mentioned: Little Rock, Arkansas. I'd never thought of it. I'd only come to talk to the Director of my home town urban renewal agency as a last step in proving there were no jobs around for a recently separated veteran of the United States Navy. I knew there was little opportunity for employment in Little Rock either. Besides, I carried the additional burden of having served time in Vietnam.

I was "outa there" as they say these days.

"I know these two guys in Little Rock," the director said, seconds before I escaped. "They have started an urban planning firm. We just hired them for some work. Would you be interested in visiting with them? They might know of something there."

"Well, hell yeah. Why not?"

A phone call and I was set up for a meeting next morning. Little Rock was just a little shy of 40 miles away, no big deal. I'd go ahead and pack so I could leave for California the day after. I was sure the trip would be fruitless and my journey would continue. There was also the fact that, supposedly, they would have to hire me back at my old job out West, and there wouldn't be any more prospects in Little Rock than they were in Pine Bluff. Things were looking rosy.

There were some things I didn't think of at the time as I headed up the twisting highway toward our Capital City next morning.

I was Caucasian, not only Caucasian, but Northern European Caucasian. My last name said so.

I was a man. My DD 214 said so.

I was a graduate of the University of Arkansas. My diploma said so.

I had been reared in a stable home. My mother said so, had beaten it into me at times.

These impeccable, but largely unearned, credentials automatically placed me way more than halfway up the Ladder of Success in the state of Arkansas—called "The Land of Opportunity" in fact—in the year of 1970.

The rumble of the tires on  my Chevrolet Impala, "Steinbeck" gave me a peaceful, easy, feeling as the song says. I was content. But like another popular song was to mention years later ... had I been more astute at time, I might have felt the Earth move under my feet.

What I knew about
Little Rock in 1970