I want to assert that-- even though my previous post about Iowa featured a preface of hapless misadventure-- no conclusion should be drawn from the fact that my visit to the state of Alabama also begins inauspiciously.
For one, I enjoyed Alabama far more than I did Iowa….
When I was planning my trip to Alabama I asked a Birmingham-knowledgeable friend, Julie Walsh, to recommend where to go and what to do. Julie was immensely helpful (as is her nature). I still have her extensive document with great options of things to do while in Birmingham.
I regret to say I didn't go to all the places or do all the activities Julie recommended. But I feel I struck gold with the one recommendation I followed through with-- which was literally a dream.
How I Got There and What Happened on the Way
What happened to me on my way to Birmingham could have happened to anyone. My flight itinerary was custom created to permit me an Amtrak sleeper car voyage from Birmingham to NYC, whence I'd go visit my parents. So I booked round-trip air from SFO to JFK.
Late in October 2013, I flew on a red-eye flight to Kennedy Airport, then took a cobbled-together series of brief flights JFK to Dulles, Dulles to ATL and ATL to BHM. At SFO, JFK and IAD I had to pass through TSA so I had my ID out. By the time I was in a cab in BHM, I realized my ID was MIA.
Could happen to anyone. How do you check in to a hotel without ID? Well, here's where an early arrival helps. You say to the front desk clerk “I'm arriving today, I've misplaced my ID, I hope to have a friend fax a copy of my passport to your attention, would that suffice for the ID required? In this case the answer was “yes”.
My dear friend Robin Dolan was able enter my apartment, where she located my passport (It pays to keep your passport in one easily described location). From there she was able to make a copy of the passport, fax it to the hotel in Birmingham and then-- dear heart that she is-- she FedExed the envelope to my parents' address (It helps-- when your driver's license is already lost--- to be headed ultimately to a destination where you are comfortable having your passport sent).
This concludes my tales of calamitous arrivals to destinations-- with the one exception to be told in the near future....that of the Trip to the Other Four Letter Destination.
The Birmingham Experience
16th Street Baptist Church / Kelly Ingram Park
Alabama’s and Birmingham's history entails anguished occurrences from which sense and purpose need to be drawn and empathy needs to be applied.
As a White man I cannot know the pain of racial discrimination or the terror of ethically motivated violence but travel and contemplation can bring anyone further understanding of that which one lacks firsthand knowledge.
On the afternoon of the day I arrived, I went to respectfully pay a pilgrimage to the 16th Street Baptist Church where, in 1963, four young girls were murdered by a racist’s bomb.
The area seemed deserted that Saturday afternoon I visited. With few people around, a stillness pervaded the area that italicized the moment's solemnity for me.
The 16th Street Baptist Church wasn't open. If it were, I may have not ventured to enter, as I don't regard places of worship tourist destinations. One can make an intentional and possibly secular pilgrimage to a church for a service, but walking into such a place at an odd hour is not something I'd do.
It was sufficient for me to walk the sidewalk beside the church and sense the energy of prayer, hope, tragedy and resilience that reside in the structure.
Cattycorner to the church, at the edge of the four-acre Kelly Ingram Park is a statue of the young martyrs, girls depicted in joyful play. The spot served as another point for quiet contemplation.
Other statuary in Kelly Ingram Park contains other statuary commemorating moments in Alabaman images of my nation's continuing slow process to grant all their civil rights . One piece I recall brilliantly captured a widely viewed historical moment of desperation as it made me a participant in that moment.
As I walked along a path in the park I approached a wall with a doorway cut in it. Through the doorway I could see a distant statue of a lone firehose on a stand pointing towards the door.
As I passed through the doorway, on either side there were statues of figures crouching and thrown against the wall as if by the violent force of the firehose's spray. In that moment my own balance faltered, so real was the power of the imagined space of the statuary.
A Trip to Dreamland (I've Never Been to Jupiter….)
Every time I'm in Berkeley I remember once hearing work colleague who lives there say, “Thursday night I went to Jupiter...." (Jupiter is a bar/restaurant on Shattuck Street in Berkeley.)
I've actually been to THAT Jupiter and-- on my visit to Birmingham-- I had the pleasure of visiting Dreamland.
One of Julie Walsh’s recommendations about where to find good BBQ in Birmingham was an establishment named Dreamland.
On the Sunday I was in the city I ate breakfast around 11am. I went back to my hotel, and checked out because I was spending my second night at another hotel, and stashed my bags with the bellman. I planned a leisurely walk to lunch at Dreamland but misjudged the length of the walk there….
At 12:45pm, there I was in Dreamland-- shamelessly eating lunch only and hour after finishing breakfast. I recall ordering ribs and chicken, mac and cheese, potato salad and sweet tea-- all delicious.
I sat at the establishment's bar and-- as I was dining alone-- I became engrossed in the several NFL games which played on multiple TV screens. I might have stayed longer but after two rapid-fire meals I was painfully in need of a nap, which would require my checking into my new hotel.
So, off I went. Miles to go before I napped.
What is this Commemorative Plaque commemorating?
Sometimes in my travels I will see something which is quite typical and then wonder about how atypical it might be.
When I think of having seen what I saw where I did and when I did, I suddenly feel feel the need to go back and double check to see whether or not I actually saw what I saw.
One such discovery that I will have to double check someday is in Birmingham.
After I checked in to my second hotel of my two night stay, I really couldn't nap so I went for a walk.
As I meandered the sidewalk, I noticed a commemorative plaque on the side of a building. The plaque commemorated the nation's first Veterans Day Parade, it said, which was held in Birmingham one day in the late 1800s.
My first thought about what I saw is “Hmm, interesting; that's a nice piece of trivia.”
My next thought was to try to picture what that parade looked like.
Then it occurred to me that in the late 1800s, the majority of veterans living in Alabama actually were individuals who had not fought for the United States.
While a veteran's Day Parade may seem both worthy and innocuous, a gathering of individuals who had fought for the Confederate States of America might actually be more terroristic than nostalgic to many of the citizens of Birmingham.
I do wonder about that parade-- who attended that day and who felt it would be best to keep the hell off the street and out of downtown Birmingham.
A Lecture at the Local LGBT Establishment
Sunday evening I went looking for Birmingham's nightlife. I tend to go out early-- when I do go out-- but if this was a typical Sunday night in Birmingham there is no nightlife there.
The establishment I went into had not much going on-- just about 6 guy sitting around a U-shaped bar. I ordered a cocktail and sat there listening to the lively conversation. I wasn't eavesdropping as the discussion was sufficiently loud that it was impossible not to hear every word. As I recall, there wasn't even any music playing.
Out of the blue one of the fellows who was talking-- in fact the one was talking the most: a White fellow-- suddenly used in passing, completely comfortably, the N-word.
I was ambivalent about the company in the bar up until the moment the fellows that the word he did. Then ambivalence went out the window. I finish my drink quickly and I left.
Another spot was about a mile away down the street away so I walked the distance this next place was a bit more lively but I guess I wasn't really in and overall mood to socialize. I didn't hang out there too long either.
It was one cocktail and out, but at least I wasn't being propelled by the classless comments of an ignorant fool.
On my way back, since I was going to go by the first establishment on my way to my hotel, I thought I might stop in again and see if the scenery had changed, as well as the dialogue.
It hadn't. By the time I realized it hadn’t, I was already in the door and had twelve sets of eyeballs on me. So, I sat down and I ordered a drink.
I had the drink for only a minute or so, when Mr. Ignorant Fool inquired, “So, did you leave earlier because I said (the N-word)?”
I said, “Yes”.
He spoke as if he was the most reasonable person alive but I could tell he was offended that anyone would reject his company. He asked if I was from Birmingham.
I replied “No, I'm from Oakland”.
Thus began his mini-lecture: “What you have to understand is that down here we all say (the N-word)-- all of us. Even the (N-word)s. And no one minds because everyone knows what it means. You don't know what it means.”
He was goading me to ask him “what does it mean?”. But I was 100% sure he didn't have a good answer.
I finished my drink and left without another word.
My encounter with this fool was unfortunate and I don't mean to use him as an illustration of the typical Alabaman.
The Alabamans I know are principled, intelligent, caring people. (Perhaps by virtue of the fact that I know them…. Need I say, just kidding…)
I will return to Alabama-- definitely to see the Gulf Coast and to revisit Birmingham, to see if that plaque is still there and if it says what I thought it said, and especially to see any sites or attractions linked to Willie Mays's life and career.
Self assessment
I tried to get this done dictating voice to text which naturally meant a hell of a lot of editing and rewriting. (Voice to text heard something I said in the section about my visit to Dreamland “I have boobs boobs” as if I was a weirdly insistent Erin Brockovich.
My general mood makes getting this entirely done impossible at this point but I am anxious (literally) to get some of it up at least…..
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