Three Days Before the Shooting ... (212 page)

“No sir, I beg to differ,” McGowan said,
“I’m
being serious;
you’re
being Yankee frivolous. Gentlemen, will y’all grant me a few minutes?”

“Grant you?” Wilkins said. “Hell, you can’t talk without making a filibuster. So go on, get it over with.”

“Thank you kindly. Gentlemen, I’m going to tell you once and for all, I’m going to impress upon you once and for all, the fact that everything the Nigra does is political. I don’t like to take up so sobering a matter so early in the evening but some of us here are getting too drunk too soon …”

“Do you mean ‘everything’ literally?” Wiggins said.

“I mean
everything,”
McGowan said. “And especially things which you Yankees would pass over as insignificant. We can start at random. Listen: If you catch a Nigra in the wrong section of town after dark—he’s being political because he knows he’s got no business being there. If he brushes against a white man on the street or on a stairway, that’s very political. Because every once in a while the Nigras get together and organize these ‘bumping campaigns’ against the white folks. They’ll try to knock you off the sidewalk and break your ribs and then they’ll beg your pardon as though it was an accident, when we know damn well that it was politics.

“So watch the Nigra’s face. If a Nigra rolls his eyes and pokes out his mouth at you—that’s downright subversive. If he puts on aristocratic airs—watch him! If he talks about moving up North, he’s being political again. Because we know for a fact that the Nigras are moving North in keeping with a long-range plan to seize control of the American government. If he talks too loud on the street or talks about sending his kids up North to college in your presence, or if he buys a tractor—all this is political. Be especially wary of the Nigra who tries to buy himself a bulldozer so he can compete against white men because that is one of the most dangerous political acts of all. A Nigra like that is out to knock down Southern tradition and bury it, lock stock and barrel. He’s worse than a whole herd of carpetbaggers or seven lean years of bollweevils. Waiter,” he called to Sam, “bring us another round!” and then to us, “There’s absolutely nothing to dry a man out like trying to educate a bunch of Yankees.”

As I watched Sam approach, I became uneasy that McGowan in his excitement would offend him. After all, I had learned during the Thirties to respect the sensibilities of his people and to avoid all anti-minority stereotypes and clichés. One simply didn’t laugh at unfortunates—within their hearing. But if Sam was aware of our conversation his face revealed nothing.

“Hy ya, Sam,” McGowan said.

“Fine, Mr. McGowan,” Sam said, and looking around the table, “Gentlemen?”

And we ordered, after which Sam slipped away.

“Let me tell y’all something else,” McGowan went on. “If you catch a Nigra buying his food and clothing from the wrong dealer—or worse, if he goes to another town to trade, that’s Nigra politics
pretending
to be Nigra economics. That’s something for you to think about, Wiggins. If a Nigra owns more than one shotgun, rifle, or pistol, it’s political. If he forgets to say ‘sir’ to a white man or tries to
talk Yankee talk or if he drives too doggone slow or too doggone fast, or if he comes up with one of these little bug-eyed foreign cars—all these things are political and don’t you forget it!”

McGowan paused. Sam was crossing the floor with a tray of drinks, which he placed before us and left.

“Come on, educate us some more,” Thompson said. “Then we can talk seriously.”

McGowan’s eyes twinkled. “I’d be glad to. But if you think this isn’t serious, study history. For instance, if a Nigra buys his woman a washing machine—watch him, he’s dangerous! And if he gets her a clothes dryer and a dishwasher—put that Nigra under the jail for trying to undercut our American way of life. You all can smile if you want to but things like that are most political. In fact, there are few things in this world as political as a black Nigra woman owning her own washing machine.

“Now don’t laugh about it. You Yankees must remember that the Industrial Revolution was
revolutionary
, because if y’all don’t the Nigra does, and he never stops scheming to make it more so. So verily verily I say unto you Yankees: Watch the Nigra who owns more than one T.V. because he’s getting too ambitious and that’s bound to lead him into politics. What’s more, if you allow the Nigra to see Indians killing white folks week after week—which is another Yankee mistake—he’s apt to go bad and the next thing you know he’s learning about that Nehru, Nasser, and those Mau-Maus and that’s most politically unwise. It doesn’t matter that the Indians are always defeated because the Nigra has the feeling deep down that
he
can win. After all, Nigras are Southern too.

“And I’ll tell you something else: If his woman or his gal chillun come up wearing blonde wigs, or if they dye their kinky Nigra hair red, you might think it amusing but I know that those Nigra women are being defiantly political. On the other hand, if they
stop
straightening their hair in the old Southern darky tradition and start wearing it short and natural like those African Nigras—right there you have you a bunch of homegrown Nigras who’re on the way to being hopelessly contaminated. Those Nigras are sweating and breathing politics. Call Edgar Hoover!

“Watch the papers the Nigra reads, especially if you see him subscribing to the
Wall Street Journal
or the
New York Times
. Watch him closely if he gets interested in the stock market. Because such a Nigra is power hungry and the next thing you know he’ll want to vote and run for public office….”

“There,” Wiggins said, “that’s what really worries you, isn’t it?”

McGowan shook his head.

“I wouldn’t say that. Although I’ll admit that between a Nigra making big money and getting the vote, money is the lesser evil. A Nigra millionaire—once you can stomach the idea—is a pretty safe Nigra. Because if the old saying is still true that there’s nothing more timid than a million bucks, then a million
Nigra
bucks are bound to be ten times as afraid. So don’t worry about the Nigra
millionaire; he’s just a Nigra with more money than he knows how to spend. Ever hear of one endowing a college or building a library, setting up a scientific laboratory? Hell no!”

“I’m glad to learn that there’s at least
something
about the Negro which isn’t political,” Thompson said.

“There is, but not too much,” McGowan said. “Because the Nigra is
a political
animal. He came out of Africa that way. He makes politics the same way a dirt dauber makes mud houses or a beaver builds dams. So watch his environment. If you see his woman putting up pictures on the wall—regard her with suspicion because she’s liable to break out in a
rash
of politics.

“If a Nigra joins the Book-of-the-Month Club or the Great Books program—investigate him. Because when a Nigra gets hold to such deals they become more political than
Das Kapital
and the Communist Manifesto put together. There was a time when everybody thought that the Bible was the only book that a Nigra should be allowed to read, but now I be damned if he hasn’t even made the Good Book political.

“So I counsel you to watch your educated Nigra. If he reads Bill Shakespeare, that’s all right because no Nigra who ever lived would know how to apply the Bard—not even that big, stupid buck Nigra, Othello, who was so dumb that when his poor, dear, sweet little wife, Desdemona, dropped her kotex in the wrong place and he heard about it, right away he thinks in his ignorant Nigra fashion that she’s allowed somebody to tamper with her and he lets that nasty Italian bastard—what’s his name—confuse him and agitate him into taking her life. Poor little thing. No sir, no Nigra born has ever been up to dealing with Bill Shakespeare. But if you catch you a Nigra reading that lowdown, Nigra-loving Bill Faulkner and
liking him
, there you have you a politically dangerous, integrationist Nigra!”

“Why do you specify his
liking
what he reads?” Thompson said.

“That’s the kind of question for a Yankee to ask, not you; because you’re suppose to know that any sensible Nigra would get scaird spitless reading what that fellow Faulkner writes. He’s more dangerous to our tradition than a bulldozer.

“But now let’s look into another area. You want to watch what the Nigra eats because it has been established that some Nigra foods are political while others are not. And it’s a proven fact that the moment the Nigra changes his diet he gets dissatisfied and restless. So watch what he eats. Fat meat, cornbread, lima beans, ham hocks, chitterlings, watermelon, blackeyed peas, molasses, collard greens, buttermilk and clabber, neckbones and red beans and rice, hominy, both grit and lye hominy—these are traditional foods and healthy for the Nigra and
usually—
and I stress the
usually—
not political …”

“What about chicken,” Larkin said, “you overlooked chicken.”

“Chicken is no problem,” McGowan said. “It’s traditional and harmless in the political sense—unless, of course, a wrong-headed political Nigra is caught stealing one. And even so, there’s nothing necessarily political about a Nigra
stealing a chicken. In fact, down South we agree that a Nigra’s suppose to steal him a chicken every now and then and the only crime involved is in his getting caught.

“But,” McGowan said, holding up his hand and allowing it to slap the table,
Pow!
“
lobster
is out!”

Wiggins sputtered over his drink. “Oh Lord,” he said. “Oh Lord protect us!”

“Gentlemen, I tell you truly; lobster on a Nigra’s table is political as hell. Lobster gives him false courage. It puts rocks in his Nigra jaws and wild ideas in his Nigra brain. In short, lobster, any kind of lobster, broiled, boiled, fried, fradi-avalloed—serve it anyway you damn please—lobster simply messes a Nigra
up
. If the price of lobster ever hits bottom this country will have bad trouble.

“And watch the rascal if he develops a taste for T-bone steaks, cornish hens, sweetbreads, calves liver (although pig liver is traditional and O.K.), parsnips, artichokes, venison, or quiche lorraine—he’s been under bad influences and getting political again. Therefore it’s a good idea to watch what he does with traditional foods. For instance, if he starts to baking his pigs feet in cheese cloth instead of boiling them naked in the Southern Nigra fashion—right there you have a potentially bad Nigra on your hands.

“And don’t overlook the political implications of a Nigra eating too much Chinese, Japanese or Jewish food. Call the F.B.I. if you catch him buying French wines, German beer or drinks like Aquavit or Pernod. One time down in New Orleans a Nigra drank a glass of that Pernod and went straight down to the courthouse and cussed out the judge, a distinguished Cayjun, in French! Nigras who drink such liquors have jumped the reservation and are out to ruin this nation.

“Scotch whiskey is just as bad. A Nigra doesn’t even have to have heard about Bonny Prince Charlie, but let him start drinking Scotch whiskey and he swears he’s George Washington’s great-great-grandson and the rightful head of the United States Government. And not only that, a Nigra who switches to Scotch after being brought up on good corn and bourbon is putting on airs, has forgotten his place and is in implicit rebellion. Besides, have you ever considered what would happen to our liquor industry if all the Nigras switched to drinking Scotch? A calamity! a catastrophe!”

McGowan leaned forward, lowering his voice confidentially, his eyes intense.

“At this point I want to get on to other aspects of the subject but before I do let me remark on one of the meanest, lowdownest forms of Nigra politics I have observed, and one which I mention among a bunch of gentlemen only with the greatest reluctance. That’s when a sneaky, ornery, smart-alecky Nigra stands up in a crowd of peaceful, well-meaning white folks, who’ve gathered together in a public place to see Justice done, and that Nigra ups and breaks wind!

“I was attending a murder trial once and just as the judge was charging the jury, some politically subversive Nigra standing way back in the rear of the courtroom—because that’s
exactly
where it came from—he let loose, and gentlemen, all at once the courthouse is in an uproar. Folks are standing up protesting
and complaining, ladies are fanning themselves and fainting and the flabbergasted judge is fairly beating his gavel to a frazzle ordering the windows thrown open and the courtroom cleared. It was simply what you call a
mess
. And in all that disruptive atmosphere the poor jury gets so confused that not only is the case thrown out of court but the guilty Nigra standing trial goes scot free! And would you believe it, that nasty rascal didn’t even have himself a lawyer!”

“The hell you say!” Wiggins roared.

“It’s sad, gentlemen,” McGowan said as we sputtered for breath, “but it’s true. You simply have to be constantly alert and vigilant against Nigra politics because it can break out in a thousand forms. For instance, when you find a Nigra boy looking at these so-called ‘girlie’ magazines that flagrantly display naked white womanhood—which is something else you Yankees are responsible for—whip his head. Because when a Nigra starts looking at that type magazine he’s long gone along the road laid down by those Japs who broke the white man’s power in Asia by ordering their soldiers to sleep with every white trash whore gal they could lay their filthy yalla hands on. In the eyes of a Nigra boy all such photographs and cartoons become insidiously political …”

“Oh come now,” someone said.

“You wonder why?” McGowan thrust forth his jaw, his eyes burning. “Because they undermine the white man’s mastery, and over-expose the white woman’s mystery; that’s why. They show the buck Nigra everything we’ve been working three hundred years to keep concealed. You have to remember that those renaissance fellows had nothing on the American Nigra except power! With him even
poon
tang is a political instrument! So you think about it.