A Gated Community
Less than two miles from the New York City line
in an upscale middle class suburban neighborhood,
the children and grandchildren, descendants of immigrants
Irish, Italian, German and Polish, Jew and Gentile,
Protestant and Catholic live together and reap the harvest
of their ascendants’ sweat and sacrifice to live in houses
with luscious manicured lawns, rock and flower gardens,
trees and bushes trimmed prim and proper built on parceled
plots of land, reclaimed meadows, marshes and pastures
of old moneyed estates.
Gone are the old gatehouses and servants quarters, a giant
step up and away from the enclaves and ghettos of Brooklyn,
Bronx, Queens and Manhattan’s lower east side.
The Lincoln Town Car drives up and parks in front of the soft
drink king’s castle that commands the middle of the block.
The driver exits the car, impeccably dressed in a three piece
pinstripe suit, white shirt, black tie and totes a black brief case.
Curious neighbors eye with suspicion.
What is he doing here? He must be the limo-driver.
The driver checks his watch and strolls up to the front door.
He rings the bell and waits.
No answer, checks his watch again and returns to his car.
Sitting in the car he appears to be perusing some paperwork.
Down the block and across the street three neighbors gather
on a front lawn.
What’s he doing now?
Somebody should report this guy to the cops.
A few minutes later, two police cars without lights or sirens
roll up and box in the Town Car.
The officers exit with their hands on their holsters ready
for a quick draw.
The driver of the Town Car slowly exits hands raised and shows
one officer his license while the other protector of the peace
checks the passenger side of the Town Car.
A silver convertible pulls into the driveway and out hops
the soft drink king.
“What’s going on here?” he demands
“Do you know this man, sir?”
“Yeah. He’s my executive vice president for marketing,
I have a meeting with him. Sorry I’m late!”
Selma, Montgomery and Birmingham are distant in mind,
time and space, but it still seems black and white
American Dreams are overshadowed by the living color
of reality.
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