SPECIAL: MORE Black Lives Matter

When I started this website, my aim was to provide readers with an eye-on-the-wall view on the sets where real life was being converted to reel life. This post is going to be different. Here I’m going to be giving you an eye-on-the-wall view of some current real life.

Let me start by repeating some of what I wrote at the beginning of my post, SPECIAL: Black Lives Matter. In Mason City, Iowa in the late 1920’s, when I was somewhere between my 4^th and 5^th birthdays, we moved into a home at 4 North Jefferson. The Cabell family rented and lived at 10 North Jefferson, the next house north of our house — Mr. and Mrs. Cabell, their son Hubert and their daughter Phyllis. The Cabell’s were Negro or colored, the terms used back then. Mason City had few Negro families. In Central School, which I attended, the only Negro I remember is Archie Simmons, who was a grade ahead of me. Hubert and Phyllis went to Washington School, but not for any reason of segregation. That school had been closer to where they had been living when they started school and they continued on there since it was only 7 blocks from where they currently lived, compared to Central School’s distance of 5 blocks. What is the point of all this? Hubert was 3 years older than me, and Phyllis was a year older and until we moved 5 years later, Hubert and Phyllis were my playmates. 

Now to continue. The day I received my first Covid-19 shot on February 1^st, I received a COMMENT from Paul Reneau on that SPECIAL: Black Lives Matter post :

Mr. Senensky,
I read your article on “Black Lives Matter” and your life in Mason City, Iowa. My mother was Phyllis Cabell. Thank you for remembering. I was in Mason City this past October visiting the graves of Virgil and Ruth at Elmwood Cemetery and the last house the family lived in on 21 St. SE. My mother left all of the family pictures to me and I wouldn’t be surprised if you are in one or more of them. One was titled “Hubert and Phyllis’ with playmates” and Hubert and Phyllis were about 10 and eight years old respectively. I’m glad my mom and uncle had such a positive impact on you. You are spot on with names and ages of my mom’s family and Mason City’s black population.

A day later I received an e-mail from grandson Marcel Reneau:

Hello Mr. Senensky,
My name is Marcel Reneau, Phyllis Reneau’s grandson. I found out about your blog through my uncles, Peter and Paul Reneau, who recently came across it while doing internet research about our family. The mention of my grandmother and great-uncle was truly amazing to see! Information about them that I never knew! I never had the opportunity to meet my great-uncle, Hubert, as he passed away at the age of 38 (a few weeks before his 39^th birthday) due to injuries he sustained in World War II. The fact that they were your playmates is just incredible.
I want to personally thank you for your writings regarding Black Lives Matter. Coming from someone with your credentials makes it that much more meaningful. Your career directing films and shows that had black characters/actors is inspiring and makes me grateful for individuals like you. All of the history is very interesting and something I never knew. I cannot wait to share this information and “Ralph’s Cinema Trek” with other members of my family.
Warmest regards, 
Marcel Reneau

On the same day I received an e-mail from another son, Peter Reneau:

Hello Mr. Senensky – I came across your “Black Lives Matter” article on the “Ralph’s Trek” website which featured your recollections of growing up in Mason City. Needless to say, I was stunned by your mention of my mother, Phyllis Cabell, and my uncle Hubert as having been your playmates. Unfortunately, Hubert died in 1959 of wounds he sustained in the military and mom died in 1995. 
Mom married my dad in 1942 and moved to Milwaukee where my three older brothers and I were raised. My mom had a younger sister, Penelope, who was born in 1942. She passed away in 2005.
If you have a moment (well, actually more than a moment I suspect), I’d love to hear more about my mom and uncle’s childhood in Mason City. Interestingly, I’ve got a few photos of an unidentified friend of Phyllis and Hubert. I’ve attached a copy of these grainy photos – perhaps you’re the young man pictured! 
Hope to hear from you! 
Warmest regards,
Peter Reneau

The next day another e-mail from Peter:

Hello Ralph! News of your blog updates has been circulated to our entire family and the response has been tremendous. As Marcel commented on the blog, your support of black talent dating back decades is indeed noteworthy. 
Interestingly, one of my favorite shows as a young boy was “The FBI.” Who would have thought that 20 years after viewing those early episodes, I would become an FBI Agent? I recently retired after 30 years. It was truly a privilege and honor to serve our country. Black Special Agents were extremely rare in the 60s – only a handful – and, regretfully, make up less than 5% of the cadre today. Did you ever meet J. Edgar Hoover? 
On behalf of the surviving Cabell family members, please accept my thanks for your time investment the past several days. You are an inspiration to what race relations can be at its best. Your account of Mason City circa 1920s and my mom’s family is now an important part of our family’s history that will be passed down from now on. I hope we have the opportunity to meet or have a live or FaceTime conversation someday. Thanks again, Peter

The same day Peter sent me photos

Ralph! Wow! This is tremendous! My brother Paul (who found your website) and I are here in Atlanta just trembling.

There I am, about 5 or 6 years old! There we were — 3 young kids playing together, our only difference, the color of our skins, providing no problem. As Oscar Hammerstein wrote a couple of decades later in his lyrics YOU’VE GOT TO BE CAREFULLY TAUGHT for SOUTH PACIFIC:

You’ve got to be taught
To hate
And fear
You’ve got to be taught
From year
To year
Its got to
Be drummed in your dear little ear
You’ve got to
Be carefully
Taught

The lot for the house the Cabell’s rented extended a half a block to an alley. And it was unused property. I remember that’s where we played softball. There weren’t enough of us for teams, just a couple more kids in the neighborhood.

You’ve got to be taught
To be
Afraid
Of people
Who’s eyes are oddly made
And people who’s skin is a different shade
You’ve got to
Be carefuly
Taught

I remember there was a wire fence between the Cabell house and the next house to the north. A white-haired matriarch lived there and even as a 5-year old, I was aware she resented having colored neighbors.

You’ve got to be taught
Before it’s too late
Before you are six
Or seven
Or eight
To hate all the people
Your relatives hate
You’ve got to
Be carefully taught

One time and I was not involved, Hubert and another boy were playing catch or just batting the ball around and the ball went over the fence. They were prevented from retrieving it. I can’t fill in the details of what followed. Five-year olds are not told everything, but five-year olds do have big ears. I was aware that my mom and my Aunt Rose (my cousin Sarane’s mother) in defense of the Cabell’s, went to the courthouse where the incident was resolved. The Cabell family continued to reside at 10 North Jefferson.

You’ve got to
Be carefully taught

The Teaching Must Continue
The Teaching Has To Succeed

The journey continues