WARNING: This blog entry is graphic in nature; please read with caution!!!Sevierville anyone?
Finally, I've made it back to the mainland of North Carolina and away from the
hickville they call Pigeon Forge &
Sevierville (
Gatlinburg was great!), Tennessee. Our largest mistake for our vacation was that we went on Muscle Car week. I'm not sure if that was the official title of the
week long redneckapalooza but it sure made for some exciting moments.
Dr. Jekyll, so nice, so sweet...
My wife and I had a great time during the day, visiting museums, shopping for baby stuff, visiting an awesome aquarium and even going through a mirror maze that we solved entirely too quickly. What a blast! The people were nice, the weather was perfect and everything was going our way! That is until day turned to night and we were stuck on a 3 mile stretch of road between
Gatlinburg and
Sevierville with bumper to bumper traffic filled with muscle cars, drinking WHILE driving and confederate flags as big as the trucks carrying them. A redneck's dream! An
Obama supporter's nightmare.
Mr. Hyde, so rude, so scary, so ignorant...
My wife and I had gone to a nice Murder Mystery dinner show that had it's moments, but was overall a letdown when compared to The Egg & I restaurant show in Las Vegas. We had taken a shortcut there that bypassed all the traffic lights but decided to take the long way so we could see all the activity going on in Pigeon Forge on a Saturday night. That would soon turn into the mistake of the evening and could have been much worse had my wife not been driving.
The Right Lane:
As we were putting along at a nice 0.5mph pace a small truck with the exhaust pipes moved from the rear to inside the bed (to run diesel and resemble an 18 wheeler) flew past us and all of a sudden what looked like a Bojangles 32oz tea smashed against our window scaring the crap out of us. They were moving fast but we both swore it looked like a mullet-ridden man was leaning out the window and giving us the finger. We both chalked it up to the drinking WHILE driving that I mentioned earlier and kept putting along listening to music and talking about the less than stellar performance from the Murder Mystery dinner cast earlier. It was no less than five minutes later that we heard muffled yelling outside the driver's side window. We both turned and saw a couple of men yelling at us from their truck. My wife rolled down the window and believe me, we both regretted it immediately. "F*ck Obama! F*ck Obama! F*ck that Muslim n*gger!" I'm not sure if that's the exact context but it's the same words and darn close. We were both in shock and and didn't know what to say. Thankfully, the traffic moved on and so did the truck. Stunned, we just sat there for a few seconds and finally moved on, in silence. It was then that it came to me. I realized that we had become targets because I have an Obama '08 sticker on my car. Surely that wasn't it, was it? Maybe they were yelling at the people next to us? Maybe this was a one time thing coming from young punk kids who had not yet learned how to consume alcohol in appropriate quantities? I sure hoped so.
My wife and I sat in silence for the next few minutes while we went through light after light of traffic. She was scared to get in the left lane (which was obviously moving faster) because she didn't want to catch up to the hate filled confederate kids. To be honest, I didn't want her to either. I prayed that the same person would stay behind us for the entire trip home and hoped we would not be bothered again. Sadly, the worst was yet to come.
The Middle Lane, The WRONG Lane:
With my wife and I both nervous and scared we hesitated to get into the middle lane to the left of us, but could no longer see the vehicles that had been a burden to us. She moved to the middle looking in all mirrors and very clearly scared. I, myself, had become VERY aware of my surroundings and had begun to notice every single police car I could find. Unfortunately, they were far and few between. The middle lane, while moving at a steadier pace, was still slow and agonizing as our terrible experience made every second seem like an eternity. I'm positive we were both praying to ourselves and our unborn child who has still yet to learn what a nasty world we live in. Then it happened...
It happened so fast all we could do was stare in shock and fear. A truck whose entire back window had been covered with a confederate flag and proudly displaying it's 2 bumper stickers, "Sportsmen for Dole" and "Sportsmen for McCain" screeched its tires, whipped out from behind us and then back in front of us and then slammed on the brakes. A middle aged man wearing flannel and jeans jumped out of the car and ran towards us. He then stopped, grabbed his crotch and yelled at what I considered the top of his lungs, "F*CK OBAMA! F*CK OBAMA!" He went from his crotch to giving us the finger and back to his crotch again. "F*CK OBAMA! F*CK OBAMA!" Then something strange happened as we looked around for a friendly face or a police officer. Other people were rolling down their windows around us...but not to tell the obvious drunk to get back in his car. No...they were...surely not... they were cheering? CHEERING? Some of them in this brief 45 seconds actually chimed in on his chant, "F*CK OBAMA! F*CK OBAMA!" After what had to be the longest 45 seconds to a minute of our life, the man ran back to his car, got in, and sped off.
I was looking all around us now, ready to fight if I had to. Looking in all directions to make sure nobody was coming at us from another angle or from another car. I saw windows rolling back up with frightening grins and happy smiles. I even saw an old couple, who seemed as scared as we were shrug their shoulders and drive on. What were we supposed to do? Getting out of there was the best plan we could come up with. We forced our way back to the right and got off on a side street and fumbled our way back to home base, confused, hurt, scared and reeling from the worst thing that's ever happened in our lifetime.
I went to the front desk of our vacation resort after insisting to my scared wife that she would be okay in the room by herself. I asked if there was something I could do. I was told to "take the Obama sticker off my car." I asked if the police could do something. She asked if we remembered the license plate numbers. I didn't. Stupid. Very stupid of me. I wasn't even thinking about that and didn't even glance at the license plate. She said again, "If I were you I would take that Obama sticker off. People don't like him much around here." "REALLY!?!" "Ya think?" I could have smacked her right then, but knew it would make me no better than the ignorant rednecks I had already dealt with. I walked out angry, confused and feeling like I there was nothing I can do.
A Sad Conclusion:
I can never pretend to know what African Americans have gone through in the many years of rednecks like "Bojangles Billy Bob" or the "Sportsmen for McCain & Dole" tormenting their spirit, their drive and their willingness to ever trust again. I don't pretend to know what it was like. But I know something similar. I certainly got a dose of the worst medicine in my life. I will never forget this. My wife will never forget this. If I can help it, everyone I know and love will NEVER FORGET THIS.
I am still displaying my "Obama '08" bumper sticker, proudly. It is likely I will never take it off even if the "Sportsmen" get their way in November. My life has changed. My wife's life has changed. Our unborn child's life has changed. It's not good and it will never be the same again.
No matter who wins...this ignorance MUST STOP. This hatred MUST STOP. This racism and sexism MUST STOP NOW.
