I was fresh in the system, angry, vindictive, and wanting revenge from the racist and unfair system that took my life and freedom. I cared nothing for anything, or at least I thought I didn’t. We were at Coastal State prison when it was a receiving and processing center. We were in a 6 man cell, and there was this old white man in the cell with us. He was in a wheelchair when he had to go a distance, and seldom said anything. Later in the month he took a turn for the worse and got to the point where he couldn’t move around much. I and a couple inmates took to looking out for him more closely. As I came to means he couldn’t read, and I had to read his letters from his daughter to him, and then write her back based on his response.
I placed all of his phones calls for him, and other clerical matters. I spoke to the daughter a few times and she thanked me and the other yes for our help. One day 3 of the guys held him up in the shower as we gave him his bath. Out of the blue the old man starts crying, I made a mental note to ask him if he was okay later on, and when I got him alone and asked him he blew my mind.
He explained that he was raised to hate blacks. He never cared for or respected our kinds. He called us “Colored” and in his youth used to throw rocks at black people on the side of the road. Now in his late 60’s he found himself in a dorm full of black folks and we took care of him like only his mother would. He broke down and started crying again. I didn’t know how to answer him as I too felt a certain amount of disdain for southern white folks after watching a courtroom full of them laugh as they sentenced me to life without parole plus 45 years for burglary. I then realized that the hate he felt was the same kind that I carried around, and two wrongs don’t make a right. That experience was my entry into the doorway of forgiving my wrongdoers.