Today we ventured to Moundsville, Alabama to see the Indian Mounds. The mounds are not as high as the ones in Cahokia so mom was able to do a little climbing. It was the perfect day weather wise to do a little hiking.
When we left the mounds we decided to explore the historical district of Moundsville. We saw a couple of old houses, the downtown district, and then we stopped for gas. I am one of those that heads for the nearest gas station. There were two to chose from, both the same price, so I pulled into the nearest one. A gentleman in a red pick up truck pulled in after me but from a different direction. He stopped and stared at me. He was an attractive man about my age, with a touch of grey. It was the way he was watching me that made me uncomfortable. It was more of a glare than a stare. He pulled in along side of me and continued the “look.” I turned away from him and could feel him staring. I was never so uncomfortable in my life. I paid for my gas and pulled away from the pump. I made a comment to my mother about the gentleman and she said “I think we went to the wrong gas station.” That’s when I realized that the gas station across the street was patronized by the white folks and the gas station I went to was patronized by the black folks. We watched and it was quite obvious. I thought those days were over. I was uncomfortable enough to leave town. I never paid attention to situations like these until my ever observant mother brought it to my attention.
When we left the mounds we decided to explore the historical district of Moundsville. We saw a couple of old houses, the downtown district, and then we stopped for gas. I am one of those that heads for the nearest gas station. There were two to chose from, both the same price, so I pulled into the nearest one. A gentleman in a red pick up truck pulled in after me but from a different direction. He stopped and stared at me. He was an attractive man about my age, with a touch of grey. It was the way he was watching me that made me uncomfortable. It was more of a glare than a stare. He pulled in along side of me and continued the “look.” I turned away from him and could feel him staring. I was never so uncomfortable in my life. I paid for my gas and pulled away from the pump. I made a comment to my mother about the gentleman and she said “I think we went to the wrong gas station.” That’s when I realized that the gas station across the street was patronized by the white folks and the gas station I went to was patronized by the black folks. We watched and it was quite obvious. I thought those days were over. I was uncomfortable enough to leave town. I never paid attention to situations like these until my ever observant mother brought it to my attention.
