New Orleans Unmasked

home / art gallery / creative pieces / links
New Orleans Unmasked	Less Than Equal My grandfather sat in the large chair in his living room. His grandchildren, including me, sat around him in amazement, eager to listen to everything he said as if never told before. Every time he would tell his stories about World War II, he would start off slow as if he was hesitant to start. He would look off day dreaming. It seemed to me like the events he was telling were happening all over again. He would even start talking like Johnny, all frustrated and upset, saying: "Karl, it's just not fair!" "Yeah, I know Johnny. But you have to give a little in order to get," my grandfather replied. These two World War II soldiers were friends. Training and fighting together had helped them learn how to talk to each other, to understand each other's moods. Soldier Johnathan Boure', or Johnny as he was often called, was upset because once again white soldiers would not allow black soldiers to eat with them. Lots of times they could not eat at all. "It's just not fair. They think they're better than the rest of us. I'm fighting this war just like them," said a frustrated Johnny. "Well you know how things work 'round here. It's nothin' new," Karl tried to explain to his upset friend. But there was no use. Johnny already knew that what they were doing was wrong. Even though Johnny was a mulatto, who could have passed for white, he was always proud to state that he was black and did not care who knew. He was much lighter than all the other black soldiers, but he still did not want the white soldiers to treat him differently from the other black soldiers. He did not want to be treated much differently from the white soldiers, for that matter. He wanted to be treated as an equal to everyone else. "Come on Karl, let's go," said Johnny. "John, where are we gonna go?" "I don't know. Let's go for a walk. Anywhere but here." So the two soldiers began to walk. They had been walking for at least ten minutes when Johnny spotted a little girl. She was lying face down in the dirt. Johnny ran over to see if the girl was alive or not. "Johnny, what are you doing? You could get us killed. I told you we shouldn't wander off like this." "Karl, she's just a little girl for God's sake. She could be in trouble." Johnny yelled. "Yeah, but she's the enemy's little girl," replied Karl. Johnny checked for a pulse. The little girl was still living. As he lifted her head out of the dirt, he could hear her begin to cough. "Good, that means she's still breathing. Give me your canteen," Johnny said to Karl as he reached in his pocket for his handkerchief. Johnny wet the handkerchief with the water that was in the canteen. After he wet it, he began to wipe off the little girl's face, hands, and legs. He then gave the little girl the canteen to drink from. As the little girl got up, as if to speak, she turned around and began to run. "Where'd she go?" asked Karl. "I don't know," Johnny said, wondering also. Just then as the two men looked up, they saw the little girl. On the side of her, as if she were pulling him along, was a man with similar looks to hers holding Karl's canteen. As the man came to Karl and Johnny, the little girl stopped him. He began to speak but he started off very slowly. "Are you the men who helped my daughter?" the man questioned in his heavy accent. "Uh, Uh, Yeah that was us," Johnny said in amazement. "Thank you ever so much. How could I repay you?" the man asked. "Uh, no problem at all," Karl said suspiciously. "Are you hungry or thirsty?" the man persisted. "Well, as a matter of fact we are, sir," Johnny said proudly. "Follow me," the man said. Karl and Johnny followed the man into what seemed to be a hut. There, they ate and drank as much as they could. "Well sir, I'm sorry but we have to be going," Karl said. As Johnny got up, he walked over to the man, shook his hand and said: "Thank you for proving we're equal." As the two soldiers walked out the modest home, the father just smiled. My grandfather leaned back in his big chair, looking at each of his grandchildren. He smiled, reminding me of the father in the story. We all climbed up and hugged him. He reached down to pick me up, and I kissed him on his pale skin. --De'Yonna Booker My Dad Came Before Columbus Equality Revolutions Throughout the Years Pontchartrain Park 1955: One Womans Story My Louisiana A Place Her Feet Never Touched
home / art gallery / creative pieces / links

home / art gallery / creative pieces / links

Less Than Equal

My grandfather sat in the large chair in his living room. His grandchildren, including me, sat around him in amazement, eager to listen to everything he said as if never told before. Every time he would tell his stories about World War II, he would start off slow as if he was hesitant to start. He would look off day dreaming. It seemed to me like the events he was telling were happening all over again. He would even start talking like Johnny, all frustrated and upset, saying:

"Karl, it's just not fair!"

"Yeah, I know Johnny. But you have to give a little in order to get," my grandfather replied.

These two World War II soldiers were friends. Training and fighting together had helped them learn how to talk to each other, to understand each other's moods. Soldier Johnathan Boure', or Johnny as he was often called, was upset because once again white soldiers would not allow black soldiers to eat with them. Lots of times they could not eat at all.

"It's just not fair. They think they're better than the rest of us. I'm fighting this war just like them," said a frustrated Johnny.

"Well you know how things work 'round here. It's nothin' new," Karl tried to explain to his upset friend.

But there was no use. Johnny already knew that what they were doing was wrong. Even though Johnny was a mulatto, who could have passed for white, he was always proud to state that he was black and did not care who knew. He was much lighter than all the other black soldiers, but he still did not want the white soldiers to treat him differently from the other black soldiers. He did not want to be treated much differently from the white soldiers, for that matter. He wanted to be treated as an equal to everyone else.

"Come on Karl, let's go," said Johnny.

"John, where are we gonna go?"

"I don't know. Let's go for a walk. Anywhere but here."

So the two soldiers began to walk. They had been walking for at least ten minutes when Johnny spotted a little girl. She was lying face down in the dirt. Johnny ran over to see if the girl was alive or not.

"Johnny, what are you doing? You could get us killed. I told you we shouldn't wander off like this."

"Karl, she's just a little girl for God's sake. She could be in trouble." Johnny yelled.

"Yeah, but she's the enemy's little girl," replied Karl. Johnny checked for a pulse. The little girl was still living. As he lifted her head out of the dirt, he could hear her begin to cough.

"Good, that means she's still breathing. Give me your canteen," Johnny said to Karl as he reached in his pocket for his handkerchief.

Johnny wet the handkerchief with the water that was in the canteen. After he wet it, he began to wipe off the little girl's face, hands, and legs. He then gave the little girl the canteen to drink from. As the little girl got up, as if to speak, she turned around and began to run.

"Where'd she go?" asked Karl.

"I don't know," Johnny said, wondering also. Just then as the two men looked up, they saw the little girl. On the side of her, as if she were pulling him along, was a man with similar looks to hers holding Karl's canteen. As the man came to Karl and Johnny, the little girl stopped him. He began to speak but he started off very slowly.

"Are you the men who helped my daughter?" the man questioned in his heavy accent.

"Uh, Uh, Yeah that was us," Johnny said in amazement.

"Thank you ever so much. How could I repay you?" the man asked.

"Uh, no problem at all," Karl said suspiciously.

"Are you hungry or thirsty?" the man persisted.

"Well, as a matter of fact we are, sir," Johnny said proudly.

"Follow me," the man said.

Karl and Johnny followed the man into what seemed to be a hut. There, they ate and drank as much as they could.

"Well sir, I'm sorry but we have to be going," Karl said.

As Johnny got up, he walked over to the man, shook his hand and said: "Thank you for proving we're equal."

As the two soldiers walked out the modest home, the father just smiled.

My grandfather leaned back in his big chair, looking at each of his grandchildren. He smiled, reminding me of the father in the story. We all climbed up and hugged him. He reached down to pick me up, and I kissed him on his pale skin.

--De'Yonna Booker

home / art gallery / creative pieces / links

Authored by Towana Pierre, SAC 2001.