In 1963, I was the Second Radio Officer on a small ship that was trading between the East Coast of The United States and Canada, through The Panama Canal to Australia and New Zealand. On one trip enroute to the Panama Canal, we pulled into Charleston, South Carolina to pick up some cargo. I didn’t have much to do when we were in port, so I decided to go and explore Charleston and its history.
I walked from the docks and easily found a bus that could take me from the port to the centre of town. I climbed onto it, walked two-thirds of the way down the aisle, and took a seat. I was just getting comfortable when the bus driver got up and walked towards me to ask if I could move to the front of the bus.
Being a twenty-year-old, opinionated kid, I said, “I’m quite happy here thank you!” The driver replied, “You don’t understand Sir, you have to move to the front of the bus.” It was then that I looked around and noticed that everybody towards the back of the bus was black and the few people in the front of the bus were white. This, of course, was segregation.
I sat there for a while, which was quite uncomfortable, but I didn’t know what to do because I hadn’t ever come across segregation before. Then, a black lady sitting across the aisle from me said, “White boy, get your ass to the front of the bus or I’m going to be late for work!”
I got up and moved my white ass to the front of the bus and we set off for the centre of Charleston.
