My Father's Faith

My father died on July 14, 1987. That in itself was not an unusual event. People die every day, but my father was a black man who was born in 1906 and managed to raise nine children with my mother’s help, even though he was never financially rewarded for his talents, abilities, or production in the world of work. He had the natural talent and expertise to do all kinds of electrical work, but even though he took special courses, he was never able to get into the various electrical unions. During the days when he certainly needed to make a fair wage in order to support a growing family, it was virtually impossible for a black man to get in to any of the trade unions, and I understand that it is not easy today.