On a Strictly Personal Level, Here’s How Hard It’s Become:

I’ve known this guy for 48 years. We went to college together, pledged the same fraternity, became good friends, each of us from time to time helping the other through tough spots. I stuck with him for all of that, even though he drifted into racism and bigotry. It got really strained, but, well, we had been friends a long time. Just yesterday I got a letter from him. He’s living in a rural Missouri county not too far from St. Louis. He told me he was holding a “shindig” (yes, some of us still use that word) in honor of the events of November 8th and January 20th. He said he was hanging out with some “good old country boys” the other day, and one of them asked him where he was from, etc. He said he’d moved out of St. Louis because he “couldn’t stand the Mexicans, Pakistanis, etc.” and that he “hated n_____s most of all.” The guy he was talking to smiled and said to him, “Welcome back to the country. You know what VFW means out here? ‘Verified Fully White.'”

I’m not answering that letter or opening any others from him.



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