as I drive through Alabama it hit me. This state has seen so many amazing historic moments, how can I possibly in good conscience just drive through? Right then I saw a sign for Tuskegee and the National Memorial of the Airmen. Now I grew up in a military house and the Tuskegee Airmen were was discussed with the highest regard in my family. Their contribution to society was enormous and the incredible journey was one for many years after few knew about. But as this WW2 vets aged and the world slowed changed, their story was one to be heard. I’m unsure being black men if they will ever completely recieve the accolades they deserve in mainstream American society. I think HBO has done a wonderful job being them to life for 2-3 generations removed from this era. Yet even with this recent publicity, I am saddened by the obvious lack of upkeep this national moment has seen. Weeds grow rampage out of garden boxes and main rainfalls of debris are curled in every corner. Weeds have grown through the sidewalk and have taken over the nicely paced concrete making it look less soft, inviting, desirable. And the signs guide me out of the park to the hangar where these fine men learned to fly, fully restored and kept by the American people. Under it all it feels so freeing. A swarm of wasps fly by, the sound of the cicadas roar in the distance and the hot sticky humidity remind me this is the south. Deep South, and the magic happened here. With wasps, with flies, with cicadas, with humidity and thick thunderstorms. All things foreign to me, except the birth of hope and the actuality of living a dream. That’s something I can understand and I feel real frickin proud to be able to and stand her where heroes once dared. 


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