In loving, living memory, John Melançon 1928 – 2007
in the same place where he spotted the misspelling of deodorant in deodorant soap
Dad said he must have been 18, 19 when he applied. Talked in the room outside the office with an eager, bright, young black man while waiting for the interview.
He left, happy-- probably told 'we'll call you.'
I went in, and was given the job on the spot.
And I knew-- I knew I got the job because I was white.
I think about that all the time.
still can bring tears to my eyes if I keep thinking about it
This was also the place where another worker, older than Dad, kept bugging him and bugging him.
Until dad "hauled off and whacked the guy"
A good friend of mine, a very good friend, he was weird too, saw the world differently also, said he heard the other people telling the guy Dad hit to forget about it, don't mess with him "He's crazy."
"I'm crazy? I'm begging him not to bug me and he won't stop and I'm crazy."
The other thing that stays with me is the scenes of deprivation and misery in Latin America
play in front of my eyes like a movie