Things change

Reposted from my other blog.

     Things change. This is something I have acknowledged and for the most part, I hate. Some change is good and some change is just political correctness, which is bad. A Commercial for Ancestry dot com shows people who are descendants of the signers of the Declaration of Independence reciting the opening lines. I understand what point they are trying to make, but it is political correctness gone over board. If I was to judge the nation by that commercial I'd think 75% of the nation were women and 90% were minorities.
     That is not where I planned to start, here is. Things change, people change, things that were acceptable once, are now considered wrong or even offensive.
     I was listening to the 100th anniversary celebration of Baseball with Mike last week on our way to the Hall of Fame. Jimmy Stewart starts off introducing the history of Baseball. He does the first few decades and Curt Gowdy takes it starting with the forties. At one point they talk about Jackie Robinson being the first black ball player (Will my using black make future people uncomfortable?), but he doesn't say black, he says "How does it feel to be the first ni--er in baseball."
      I gasp a little and look over at Mike and he goes, "Yeah, all those years ago we listened to this record and it never hit us"  I don't remember hearing that word and we did, it just didn't make an impression on us like it does now.
     This leads me to another story that always amazes me and who ever I tell it to. My Great Aunt Emilie was born in 1899. In the 70's I became interested in genealogy and she showed me the collection of family memorabilia several generations of Smiths and Hardens had. I saw fat books of small tin type pictures, now lost, of people Aunt Emilie knew a few. Charles Smith's civil War mess kit, also now lost, a letter from his wife he'd kept and drew a picturing on of the battle of Mobile Bay SC in which iron clad ships had engaged. There were many items to marvel at.
     At one point she opened a box and it contained several smaller boxes. She picks up one of the boxes, pulls off the lower half and out slides a straight razor. It was  one that maybe her father had used or maybe her grandfather. She looks at the razor for a moment and then to me and says "I'll have to go out tonight and bury these in the backyard so no 'Ni--ers get them." She never did and I have them. She never uttered an other racist thing in her life that I heard. I never thought of her as a racist. Stereo types just stay with you when you live with them all your life. When She was growing up the use of that word was acceptable. Things change, people sometimes change, others don't.