Pat Anderson

I am Andy’s father. I am participating in his project because I am intrigued by the idea that readers might learn something from my memories that is not already in history books. I retired in 1987 after a long career in a multinational conglomerate and a few more years as an environmental consultant. I grew up in Slidell, Louisiana, in St. Tammany Parish, on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain. Until the 1950s, strict racial segregation was the law in the South and seemed natural to me and to everyone I knew.

Chapter 2 · p. 44

The so-called Black Negroes lived in an area of town that was politely referred to as Negro or Negra town and less politely as “N-word town” by many lower-class Whites. Black Negroes had been given British surnames because they were descended from slaves who had taken the names of their White owners. The Black Creoles considered themselves above the Black Negroes (higher in social status). Probably for this reason, members of the different classes of Negroes rarely mixed.

Chapter 2 · Slidell · p. 51

A passenger train crew consisted of a White flagman, White conductor, and Negro porter. Negroes rode in separate cars, I think, in the rear of the train. The White conductor was responsible for placing stools below the steps of White-only cars to help White passengers deboard. The porter put stools below the steps of any Colored cars. I never rode long-distance trains as a child, but I knew they had dining cars with starched white tablecloths, good food, and good service by Black waiters. As a child, I supposed Negroes could eat in dining cars in the North. I still do not know whether Blacks could do that in the South.

Chapter 2 · Slidell · p. 51

I remember boarding a train in Cincinnati in 1942 on my way to Ft. Bragg, North Carolina. I saw that Negroes and Whites shared the same waiting room in Cincinnati and were allowed to sit anywhere on the train. When the conductor announced that the train had entered Virginia, Negroes responded by moving to separate cars at the rear of the train. I remember seeing three White sailors laughing and joking with several women during much of the trip. Although the women did not look like Negroes, they moved to the rear when we crossed the border. The sailors were obviously not expecting this and seemed unhappy. I chuckled to myself at the thought that the White boys had been fooled.

Chapter 2 · Slidell · p. 52

I became more and more aware that Whites varied greatly in their attitude toward Negroes. I saw that some White people preferred Negroes whom people called humble because they bowed and scraped around Whites. Humble Negroes were likely to tell White people what the Whites wanted to hear instead of telling them the truth. Many White people preferred Negroes who seemed honest yet polite. No White person liked the few Negroes known as uppity, who seemed impolite to varying degrees. I think Mammy and Bampa preferred humble Negroes. Mama and Papa did not seem to have a preference.

Chapter 2 · Segregation · p. 58

Churches were segregated. I was most familiar with the Presbyterian Church. Our church in Slidell was segregated entirely in the sense that no Blacks attended. I remember seeing inside a handful of small protestant churches in and around Wesson. The oldest had upstairs seating areas over the main entrance, like choir lofts I saw in Catholic churches, but smaller. I heard that these upstairs seats had been built before the Civil War for enslaved people when slaves worshipped in their masters’ churches. The upstairs was usually empty when I saw them or occupied by Whites, but never Negroes.

Chapter 2 · Segregation · p. 60

When Andy asked me what I now think of the system of segregation that I remember, I said immediately that it was horrible. Then he asked me why I thought so many White people accepted segregation if it seems so horrible now. After thinking about his question, I realized that segregation, in those days, seemed unjust but not horrible. Instead, it felt natural – one injustice among many, just accepted as part of the natural order of things. Louisiana students graduated from public schools after the 11th grade, so I entered a junior college in Mississippi when I was sixteen and then enrolled in Louisiana State University a year later. I had practically no contact with Negroes during the school year, but worked almost side-by-side with them every summer when I came home. The brickyard in Slidell had a largely Negro labor force with a few White foremen and White skilled craftsmen. The owners hired a handful of high school and college boys every summer to supplement the labor force and to provide work for employees’ sons, both White and Black.

Chapter 2 · Segregation · p. 60

The first was when the Division Chief of Staff asked at my interview how I felt about serving with Colored soldiers, instead of asking about my communications experience. I assumed he was assessing whether I would be a good fit for the Division despite coming from the South. I believe he would have turned me down if I had expressed reservations. The second was when a White captain told me that White officers who had wanted to transfer out while the Division was at Ft. Huachuca had only to tell a superior they were uncomfortable serving with Colored soldiers. I have always assumed that the second instance, coupled with the first, meant most White officers in the Division when I was associated with it were not anti-Negro. My assumption might have been wrong, but it seemed consistent with my later experiences in the Division. The third incident occurred over a drink before dinner when Andy (not Anderson), a Colored officer, shared his anger about being turned away by a New York City hotel. Alcohol probably led him to break the taboo, but I believe he was telling the truth. This third incident did not involve the 92nd. I can think of two reasons besides race that explain why many members of the 92nd Division might have questioned the motives and competence of high-level commanders and staff officers and, therefore, might have suspected racism even if it was absent. First, line-unit members generally have less information about the big picture and tend to question the motives and competence of those who do. As a staff officer, I noticed this tendency across all units in which I served and in units that I have subsequently read about in the German, British, and American armies. Second, soldiers with little experience of the chaos of large-scale military operations are more likely than experienced soldiers to question their commanders and staff officers. I observed this tendency in the 92nd, where my two years of experience in North Africa and Italy gave me more time overseas and more combat time than all but a handful of 92nd members, including officers. More experience leads to a realization that chaos and confusion are inherent in large military operations, not simply the result of incompetence or base motives. Finally, the point of view of Colored officers and soldiers towards commanders and staff members probably differed from that of the Division’s small group of Whites, which included most of the commanders and staff officers, precisely because of race. For example, I realize now, as Andy and I write this, that I must have seemed like part of the problem (racism) to many Colored soldiers because I was a White officer in an all-White section. Until right now, while you and I were talking about this, I had always assumed my assignment was the result of my experience and availability.

Chapter 2 · Reflection: Dad’s Response · p. 74