A Day Of Love

As I look back over my life, there are some days I’ll remember where I was and what I was doing for as long as I live. Days that are imprinted in my mind and on my heart so deeply, they’ve left a scar that can never be erased or forgotten.

April 4, 1968 I walked into my aunt’s living room on the corner of 16th Street in Chicago where my aunt was crying over the news that Dr. Martin Luther King had been murdered. As a child, I didn’t understand why Dr. King had been murdered, but I knew it was wrong.

June 6, 1968 I came out of our basement on East 83rd Street in Chicago to see my dad holding my crying mother over the news that Robert F. Kennedy had been murdered. Just as with Dr. King, I didn’t understand why Bobby Kennedy had been murdered, but I knew it was wrong.

April 29, 1992 I was in my kitchen cooking on East 83rd Street, next door to my mom, when I heard the news the Los Angeles riots started over Rodney King’s abusers being acquitted. I was an adult in my first house. While I completely understood the sentiment of the rioters, I prayed it would quickly end and not spread across the country.

September 11, 2001 I walked into the store in the pedway of the Chicago city hall/county building to get a pop when the store owner pulled me to the television to see the first tower burning. As we were talking and watching, a plane flew into the second tower and I said, “Someone just declared war on the United States.”

May 25, 2020 I was in my bedroom on East 134th Street in Chicago watching Avatar The Last Airbender with my grandchildren when my son showed me video of the murder of George Floyd. I cried as I realized he was dead long before they got off his body.

A few days ago Donald Trump described January 6, 2021 as a day of love. Many people have questioned his description of the day and while it didn’t look like a day of love to me, I understand why he would say it was a day of love. The people at the capitol on January 6, 2021 were there because they not only love the United States of America but more importantly to Donald Trump, those people were there because they love him.

January 6, 2021 I walked into the pharmacy of Jessie Brown Veterans Hospital on Damen Avenue in Chicago to an unfamiliar scene. Normally an extremely noisy place, the pharmacy was eerily quiet despite being full. Everyone was staring at the television in dead silence. I looked up at the television as people were scaling the walls, pushing, swinging American flags. I had never seen anything like it. It was complete chaos.

I asked what was happening and a man said “MAGA supporters are attacking the capitol building.” A man who came in behind me asked, “Why aren’t they shooting them?” Another man angrily said, “Because they’re White.” A fourth man in obvious frustration said, “Bullsh!t, I’m White and I say shoot their azz.”

The room filled with veterans remained silent, the only words coming from those unaware of the horrors taking place in our capitol as they entered the unusually quiet room and those answering their questions.

The pharmacy was filled with veterans who watched helplessly in disbelief, confusion and anger as wild animals attacked our capitol with virtually no response from the capitol police.

Prior to my name showing up on the screen to notify me my prescription was ready, a woman asked, “Where are the national guard?” No one answered her because no one knew the answer.

Each veteran left the pharmacy. Angry. Frustrated. Feeling helpless we were incapable of protecting our capitol.

After I picked up my prescription and was leaving I heard a man quietly say, “All enemies, foreign and domestic.” The vow we each took when we enlisted in the military to protect the country with our lives from all enemies, both foreign and domestic.