The Cyclone Fence

    The fence had red vinyl links with green plastic strips slid through
    the links for privacy.

    It divided Mr. Stava's house from the tiny abandon convenience store
    that he had opened some years ago.

    Mr. Stava's wife had become paralyzed and a long ramp was put
    around the house.

    Misses Stava would sit on the porch and roll her wheel chair down
    the ramp to see her garden.

    My friends and I would talk with her.

    It was the 70's and I was preparing for high school exams.

    My girl friend Rachael liked to talk to Misses Stava about Czechoslavakia,
    a place Rachel wanted to visit.

    Misses Stava gave Rachael a key to the abandoned store and offered her
    anything she could find of value in it.

    I saw an opportunity for romance in the dusty store and Rachael enjoyed
    our playful cuddling at the store counter.

    She was upset to find old photos of Mr. Stava in a NAZI uniform.

    Mr. Stava was a concentration camp guard in Czechoslavakia in WWII
    and Rachael is Jewish.

    Her father had escaped NAZI Germany with his parents when he was an infant.

    Rachael did not mention the photos to Misses Stava, because she did not want
    to upset the old woman.

    She told her father Gunther about them.

    Gunther shouted at Rachael: never to go near those people again.

    Gunther did not like me, because my dad was Irish Catholic, but he liked
    my mother, who was Jewish.

    That sounded racist to me.

    Rachael told me never to confront Gunther about his beliefs or we would never
    see each other.

    Gunther was a Harvard professor of Psychology.

    It was obvious to me Gunther was prejudice and I spoke to Mr. Stava about it.

    Mr. Stava, liked to play chess with me and complemented me on my skill.

    We spoke about Gunther and his service in the NAZI concentration camp over
    a game of chess and lemonade.

    Mr. Stava explained that he was a legal citizen of the United States and
    what he did in the concentration camp was his duty to his country
    Czechoslovakia. (?)

    He said he did not know my mother was Jewish and we should not play chess
    anymore.

    He made it clear to me he did not like Jews, but Misses Stava told me Rachael
    and I were welcome to visit her and play in the store.
           
                                            I was confused. (?)

    I returned to Rachael with wooden bowling balls that I had found in the Stava'
    store.

    Gunther showed us to play with them and rolled the wooden balls up to
    a stake in his backyard with a circle he had drawn around it.

    Prejudice is not always wrong.+


    +++