Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

An analogy about “America’s Thing with Race”

Guest author Bill Gwaltney.

Let me introduce Bill. If you’re old enough, you may recall the long-ago commercial for a Wall Street brokerage firm. “When EF Hutton speaks, people listen.” Bill’s kinda like that. In 1999 I read in a newspaper, the Valley News in Hanover, New Hampshire, that Bob Stanton, the Black Director of the National Park Service, had a mission to transform the Park Service staff and visitors to more truly reflect what Bob referred to as, “The face of America.” He didn’t think that it should be a so thoroughly White organization. So being the arrogant type, I sent him a letter and told him that he should meet with me. His chief of staff called me to explain – politely - that somebody at his level, a person who reports to a cabinet officer, was never going to meet with me. But being not only arrogant, but persistent, he eventually called me to Washington DC. Realizing how incredibly important I am, he wedged me in after a meeting with President Clinton. Towards the end of our conversation, he back and with a grin said, “You remind me of brother Bill Gwaltney.” So I eventually wandered from New Hampshire to Rocky Mountain National Park in Estes Park, Colorado to meet Bill, who at that time was Chief of Interpretation at the park. We’ve been friends and anti-racist collaborators ever since. Bill is a long-term board member of The Civil Conversations Project.

This post doesn’t have the space to list all the things that Bill has done. But a shortlist would include that he was a long-term board member of the National Association of Interpreters, until two white ladies objected to his frank discussion of America’s Thing With Race at which point he resigned. Bill is a former federal law-enforcement officer; superintendent of several national parks or monuments; historical consultant to Denzel Washington on the popular movie Glory; founder of the highly regarded Civil War reenactors from the USCT (U.S. Colored Troops) 54^th Massachusetts regiment – highly regarded for their significant role in the Civil War. Before retiring, Bill was the chief of interpretation at the Paris France based US Battlefields and Monuments Commission. He watched over the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial (learning French in his 50’s) as well as other US memorials all over the world. So when Bill speaks, people tend to listen.

Bill Gwaltney

During the last month or so, I had the opportunity to Farm and Pet Sit for some old friends who traveled to Africa to train Park Rangers there how to teach others the art of Interpretation. My assignment was on the island of Hawaii…the big island. Bummer!

As I drove down the Coast Road, I drove from lush Rain Forest through Ranch land and past groves of Macadamia Trees and acres and acres of Kona Coffee trees.

A slow drive because of hairpin turns and rugged terrain, the road demands that you slow down and pay attention.

Pay attention I did and noticed something that I had not considered before near a settlement named Kahuku.

Downhill from the Mauna Loa Volcano, the area has large open areas and rolling hills, much as you might imagine a Cattle Ranch on an old Hollywood movie.

In fact, the nearby Kahuku Ranch was once among the largest cattle ranches in Hawaii, a state known for large cattle outfits, among them The Parker Ranch, one of the largest ranches in the United States.

Clearly visible on the landscape are volcanic intrusions from long ago lava flows, creating a barren and almost lunar landscape.

As you drive, the sparkling blue sea can be seen in the distance, while the deep, dark and inviting green of the vegetation on the shoulders of Mauna Loa stand out.

But the volcanic eruption in 1868 proved to be disastrous for the area and its people. It has left not only a visible scar, but a huge, jagged welt that defies all efforts to erase or remove it.

While there were a few nicely designed and built houses, much of what I saw in Kahuku were people living in shacks, tents, and hastily built structures using whatever materials they could find. Some lived in rusting school buses.

There were a couple businesses selling propane and a few convenience stores, and even the odd church or two. The place seems every bit as stark as the lava rock it is built upon.

The sharp and jagged Lava rocks extend at times clear to the ocean tens of miles away. Curiously, in and among the dark grey and brown rocks are trees, growing despite their placement in one of the bleakest landscapes on the planet.

Not close enough together to even give each other any shade or support, these trees have taken root in the rough and tough basaltic scree.

It came to me that these trees can be seen as a metaphor for persons who have chosen to be Anti-Racists and learn more about the history and costs of Racism in the United States and around the world.

Firmly rooted, but in places that many others choose not to go, these trees may over time, break up and even break down the hard soil in which they have taken root.

Their success seems unlikely, even a forlorn hope, but there they are. These trees, it seems are dedicated to survival and making a change despite the seemingly insurmountable challenges they face.

On the day I drove through, the landscape is quiet, grey, windswept, and seemingly inhospitable.

The landscape of people living with the penalties that Racism brings, often also seem eerily quiet, drab, and inhospitable.

Life there seemed impossible, but the presence of homes ranging from hovels to hotels suggests that the residents have not given up and have no intention of doing so.

Like the readers of this Substack website and members of the brave little organization that The Civil Conversations Project is, the trees of Kahuku don’t know when or how to quit. Never, never, never give up.

Quiet and intentional efforts to learn about the damage done by “America’s Thing with Race,” along with standing strong and standing together are the kinds of things that, in the long run, may one day change the American racial landscape.

I am reminded of a story told by Educator Booker T. Washington in Atlanta in 1895.

While a person now often castigated for taking positions that seemingly accepted segregation rather than demanding immediate political and social equality, Washington’s story may have content that may help The Civil Conversations Project in its goals.

In his speech, Washington tells the tale of a Tall Ship lost at sea for many days, when it suddenly sights a friendly vessel.

“From the mast of the unfortunate vessel was seen a signal: “Water, water. We die of thirst,...” Washington related. The answer from the friendly vessel at once came back, “Cast down your bucket where you are.”

A second time, the signal, “Water, send us water!” went up from the distressed vessel. This message was answered in the same way: “Cast down your bucket where you are.”

Washington went on with his tale:

A third and fourth signal for water was answered: “Cast down your bucket where you are.”

As the story progressed, the Captain of the distressed vessel, at last heeding the injunction, cast down his bucket and it came up full of fresh, sparkling water from the mouth of the Amazon River.”

Those who wish to see America live up to its Constitution and its creed are not “All at Sea.”

We must stand firm, put down solid roots, share the mission and “Throw down our buckets where we are.”

Even in these dark times, we must believe that our work and our example can help to change ourselves as well as transform others.