The events of recent days have been most disturbing to me. As a law enforcement chaplain, I join those that I serve with in denouncing the criminal actions of those who swore to protect and serve in Minneapolis. They must be held accountable.

I have said little on my personal social media regarding these events. My relative silence could be interpreted as indifference, but that is not true. I am trying to practice the discipline of being quick to listen and slow to speak. It is not easy for someone as opinionated as I am!

I have read some well-articulated and thoughtful posts regarding the current crisis in recent days. I have been reflecting on each of them. And, I have also read things that are not based on reality. I find that especially disturbing. Most recently, I read a post a friend shared yesterday entitled: “Racial Gaslighting 101.” It was excellent. But you must understand the concept of gaslighting as a prerequisite for grasping the meaning of the post!

In the aftermath of the horrific events in Minneapolis, my mind continues to go back to 1980. Forty years ago, I went to work for Bill Groux. He owned an old school full-service Texaco station. My children have never seen such a place! We pumped gas, hand washed cars, changed oil, and did repairs. Bill’s manager for that business was a black man named John. John is 6 years older than me. When I was hired at age 18, I thought Johnny was ancient at 24.

Johnny and I did not become instant friends. For months he kept me at arm’s length. I think the turning point came when we started eating lunch together. Initially, it was an occasional event. And somehow it evolved into an everyday occurrence. I think Mr. Groux regretted the two of us becoming so close! He soon discovered that our mischievous minds worked even better in unison. He often looked at both of us and shook his head.

At age 18, “white privilege” was not a term in my vocabulary. I was just a clueless college freshman that had recently graduated from a predominantly white high school. Over the course of 5 years my friendship with Johnny grew to be special and meaningful. We complimented each other well. But I also experienced some painful lessons that have resurfaced this past week.

•I learned that people I once held in high esteem were blatantly racist. When Johnny and I ate lunch at Furr’s Cafeteria, I frequently encountered friends of my parents. They were characteristically friendly and cordial unless Johnny was with me. When Johnny was with me, they acted like they did not know me. I was shocked and disappointed. It was a reality check for a kid like me.

•I found that customers would walk right past Johnny, whom they knew was the manager, and come to me to ask a question. That just irritated me. It was another sad reality check.

•When customers were upset with me about something, I got the typical chewing out. And, I also received a good cussing out on a few occasions! When Johnny was on the receiving end of an upset customer, he was called the “N” word on occasion or two. I still remember one incident where that occurred so clearly that I can see the man standing there. I remember what he looked like and what kind of vehicle he was driving. Just thinking about it still elevates my blood pressure.

Why do I bring up events that happened 40 years ago? This is 2020! I have one reason. I am reminded that meaningful change will occur in the context of relationships. There have been a lot of references to listening in recent days. That is great! I applaud such overtures. But, listening needs to occur in the context of meaningful relationships! If you are not willing initiate and allow such relationships to grow, then your posts about listening feel empty.

I grew to love Johnny. I still do. He is now 63 years old. The old man has never been inclined to be on social media. But we still communicate. The last time I saw him was at Mr. Groux’s wife’s funeral service in Lubbock. It was instant bonding. We so enjoyed being together again. Mr. Groux’s daughter asked us to sit with the family at the funeral. Both of us were honored. But I imagine that she also knew that were inclined to mischief if left alone! I miss Johnny. My mind continues to be drawn to 1980 these days. My friendship with Johnny continues to be formative for me 40 years later.