They came up while we were playing...sort of caught us by surprise and stood around for a few minutes in old shorts and older tennis shoes. They had walked across town and the sweat had dried on their skin, giving it an ashy look in places. After watching for a few minutes they asked if they could play. We only had one ball and sometimes, when the kid who brought it got upset, he would indeed take his ball and go home. When I look back, I'm thankful that didn't happen on this particular day. I learned a couple of things. The year was l959 and the only time we saw kids like these was either through a car window or in an old movie on TV.

I was twelve and had never spoken to one, much less, swapped sweat on a basketball court. We just didn't mix in those days. No one knew exactly why and I never heard, ʺdon't go near those peopleʺ from my parents but when they asked if they could play I stared at my shoes for a bit. Finally the leader of the four, a tall slender fellow, spoke up and said, ʺWhat’sa matter, fraid it'll rub off? Let's shoot for teams.ʺ We mumbled our ok and each of us took turns shooting from the line. They made their shots, we didn’t and we played four on four with us against them. They won because they were faster and could shoot the ball with one hand while we were still using two.

I remember thinking, as I watched the tall slender one shoot, so that’s how it’s done. When the games were over we drank from a hose near the court and talked basketball until the sun told them they'd better be on their way. Being home before dark was important to them in l959. The months passed and they never came our way again but something tells me their lives were lived very differently from mine. I had a bicycle they were on foot. I had the freedom to go anywhere in town and feel safe, they didn’t. I could drink from any water fountain, eat in any restaurant and sit down front at the Panama Theatre but they couldn’t. I could dream of one day going to college, a thing that was probably unattainable for these four. They probably went to church, I didn’t. I didn't think much more about that day until 63' when the sit-ins and marches brought it back.

Didn't think much about the separate entrance for them at the Panama Theatre or the ʺcolored onlyʺ signs posted downtown. They weren't people to me, just places, signs, evening church services that could be heard from the car window while passing and bodacious bands during Christmas and “colored” football games. The marches and sit-ins brought it to television and then we had to think about it…about the differences. Those days faded from memory again until recently when I heard a speech from President-Elect Obama. And although he never lived through days when, after a game of basketball he had to get home by dark or sit in the balcony at the Panama, or use the bathroom on the side of the road when no “colored only” bathrooms were available, he represents those that did and I’ve heard he’s a pretty fair basketball player. He won a game last week and I’m proud of our country for doing what seemed to be the right thing.

I said there were a couple of things I learned that day. One was the one handed shot but the other was the more important lesson. It was that we have to take steps toward those we don’t understand if we want them to become friends. They walked across town that day and taught me that taking that step takes a lot more courage than staying at home. I don’t know about you but I’m ready to take a step with our new President. He and his family seem like nice folks to me.