Hey Ladies, Watch Out For the Nigger

"Hey Ladies, Watch Out For the Nigger."
Philadelphia, PA
Fall, 1979


I worked all day in Philly and then, two nights a week, I ran off to classes in the evening.  I was 22 and working on a Master’s degree in school counseling.  I wanted to become a guidance counselor.  My current job was a dead end credit collector. So these two nights, though tiring, were my ray of hope for a better life.

I finished work at 5PM and then grabbed something to eat from a street vendor and then settled in to my classroom seat, ready to go by 6PM.  My classmates came from all over the city and we connected quickly not just because of our common goals but because of our exhaustion as well.  Classes lasted until 9:00PM and those hours of instruction just multiplied our fatigue.

So when the professor closed his notebook for the night, we bolted out of there and headed home as quickly as possible. Everyone took public transportation so people on the same train schedule walked together as a precaution to safety.  Center City was fairly deserved at this time.  So we felt certain levels of vulnerabilities in being in town so late.

There were five of us who walked with me, three other women and Tony, a 24 year old man who insisted that he stay at the station until the rest of us were safely on our trains and out of harm’s way.  Usually, our trains came around the same time.  But sometimes, one train would be delayed and Tony’s train would come and go without him. And while we felt bad about this inconvenience, we were grateful for his kind care.  We would protest but he just insisted that we cooperate with him. He wasn’t leaving us alone.

It was a cold, cold night once, right towards the end of the semester, in December. We bundled up, dreading the thought of going outside in these blistering cold winds. This night, we walked briskly, devoid of conversation with each other.  We just hurried.  We wanted to get to the station and get out of the cold. So we walked at our individual paces with Tony dutifully taking up the rear.

A lone street person huddled in the doorway of building, across the street. He saw Nancy first, she led the pack. And then Beth followed a few steps behind and right on her heels was Nancy.  And I took up the next spot, hurrying up as fast as I could because Tony is tripping up his pace, trying to slow down to keep from running up my heels.

The street person watched all of this, and then he shouts out, “Hey ladies, watch out.  There’s a nigger following you.  Watch out for the nigger.  Be careful.” He warned us with what he thought was good intent.

That statement stopped us in our tracks.  His words stunned us and none of us knew what to do, what to say.  Tony was visible angry and we were filled with white guilt and shame.  But we didn’t want to be bothered by this bum. He was not worth our time and we were not going to change his thinking.  But we didn’t want to ignore it either. Our loyalties were with Tony, this honorable man who had gone out of his way to keep us safe from creeps like this bum. We were huddled together, speechless and worried.  Finally one of us breaks the silence.

“Tony, we don’t feel this way about you.  Can you just shake it off?” Her tone was pleading and sorrowful.

He did but he was still angry. And we felt guilty about letting it slide. But we moved on and got to the station. Our trains came and we all quickly went our separate ways on that chilling night.

The next week, we had our final exam. So we all left as we finished. We didn’t walk to the station as a group. The next semester, we were not in the same classes so I never saw any of these people again.

So, regretfully, my last moment with Tony was on the train platform.  He was still angry and the train door closed, I was still unresolved as to what action should or could have been taken that night.