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Stories of Racism

In 1982, when I was 13 years old, I wanted to go to a comic book store in a section of Brooklyn called Canarsie. At the time Canarsie was ethnic white working class. I got off at the bus stop and started walking to the comic book store. A car stopped and a man got out and yelled at me to get out of his neighborhood. I distinctly remember him telling me, “If I came to your neighborhood I would be jumped.”As I walked away I turned back to look at him going into his car to get a stick or some kind of blunt instrument. I realized then that he wanted to make sure I never came back to his neighborhood again. He chased me down the street. While running I saw an elderly white woman and her black caretaker sitting outside. I ran towards them and the man turned around and walked away.

 

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johnnyhenderson

A far more recent story from a reader in central Florida


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