Roger Raintree Update Add

Roger Raintree’s Summertime Blues
Nathaniel Robert Winters

The summer of 2014 was the strangest summer of my life. It didn’t start out that way. I was having a normal summer, played Babe Ruth league baseball, went on bike rides and in July my family went camping with the Fishers. You know normal stuff. Even my new sister, Lisa, seemed to be doing okay.
After my interesting and weird year in the seventh grade, it seemed nice to just do regular kid stuff. Then, the Ferguson thing happened. Boy oh boy, that changed everything. You might have heard about it in the on the TV news or by reading a newspaper. But if you’re like most of my friends you don’t pay that much attention to the news unless something happens in your town. So, like I said this was a very strange summer.
On the night of August 9, a man named Michael Brown was killed by a policeman, Darren Wilson in Ferguson, Missouri. Michael was 18 years old. Ferguson is just outside of St. Louis and isn’t very far from Middletown. That’s where I live.
Another sad part of this story was that Michael was black and did not have a weapon. Mr. Wilson, the policeman who shot him was white. We feel like this whole area is part of our hometown.
Now, I learned last year that you don’t want to come to any fast judgments about things. I wrote my story last year about how the Middletown police really helped me. I also learned last year that the police can make big mistakes.
A bunch of us spent the day after the shooting watching the news on TV. All the stations had it on for hours and hours.
My family talked about Ferguson all through dinner.
My dad said, “There’s something fishy about the police officer’s story.” Mom made salmon for dinner so we all looked down at the fish on our plates and laughed. I think the laugh made us feel better.
I said, “They have been saying that the cop felt threatened and he fired his gun because he had to but that doesn’t seem right because Michael Brown didn’t have a gun or even a knife.”
"It could be that the officer was just paranoid after all the trauma he has seen on the police force.” Mom said.
“What does paranoid mean?" I asked.
“It means that he was in the state of being scared all the time. Like soldiers with battle fatigue or PTSD," Mom said.
Lisa said with a bit of anger, “maybe he was just a racist SOB like my father.”
Dad said in a very calm voice, “it’s obvious that the police officer made a huge mistake but until all the facts are in let’s give him the benefit of doubt."
My brother Joey, who is also called Big Bird, said, “A lot of our friends are upset about this. We don’t think what’s going on in Ferguson's fair. Some of the kids are planning to go over and picket for justice."
“Is Sarah one of the friends you’re talking about?” Mom asked.
Big Bird and I exchanged a look, I nodded. “You know Sarah. If she thinks something is not fair, she wants to take action.”
Dad asked, “Are you telling me that you all want to go?”
I said, “Sarah thinks we have to go. I agree, especially after we did our Pride Day at school last year.”
“What do you think Lisa?” Mom asked.
“I think I’m learnin’ from you all, if you ain’t helping people, you’re part of the problem.”
Dad smiled and winked at Lisa. “I can see how important this all is to you. The organizers of the rally tomorrow are committed to nonviolence. I would let you go but I am worried that things might get out of control."
"Ah dad!" Joey whined.”
Dad held up his hand. “Hey, I didn’t say you guys couldn’t go. As a matter of fact I’m going with you.”
***
I can tell you, I didn’t sleep much that night. I wasn’t dumb, I knew there were some bad guys that lived in Ferguson. You know, gangbanger types that you hear about in rap music and it made me a little nervous. But I knew some nice kids from Ferguson, my baseball team played ball there in July. Their team had white and black guys. They won the game and we all went out for pizza afterwards. It was a fun day. So I found out last night that Ferguson is mostly black but has a lot of white people too.
Some people on the TV said that Michael Brown was one of the bad guys. I didn’t know if that was true or not. In this case it shouldn’t matter. Even if he did bad things, the police should not be shooting at unarmed people.
I woke up real early. So I showered, got dressed and went to the front porch just as the sun was coming up. The cool air got warm real fast and I was already starting to sweat, just another hot and sweaty Missouri day without a cloud in sight.
I heard the screen door open and Lisa sat down next to me. “You okay?" I asked.
Lisa came to live with us after her father and brother were arrested. Her mother took off somewhere and she was left alone. To make a long story short, my parents stepped in and adopted her.
She looked at me with funny smile, shrugged her shoulders then started to say something and stopped. We were both still a little shy with each other. She was just a year younger than me and will be going into seventh grade. She went from being someone I kinda knew at school to being my sister overnight. It was a bit of a shock for both of us.
I could see her thinking. “What?” I said and waited.
“Ya know, my Uncle Carl lived in Ferguson when I was little. When the ni. . . blacks moved in, he moved out. My daddy and him just went on and on and on about it like it was the end of the world. Then Uncle Carl sold the gas station and moved to Mississippi where he said those people still know their place.” Two tears slowly streamed down her face. “I don’t want to be like them, it all sounds so evil, donn’ it.”
“Wow Lisa you are so brave. You know you don’t have to come with us."
She smiled. “Roger, don’t you see I really have to."
“Well Lisa, I’m proud of you.”
The crickets started humming in the background. It’s funny cause even when they get loud you mostly don’t notice them but that morning I did. A mosquito started buzzing. I felt it on my neck and slapped leaving a small bloody spot on my hand. “We’d better go in." I said to Lisa.
***
Sarah Fisher joined our group as we piled in the SUV. Our families have always been best friends. Sarah has a younger black brother, adopted after the Haitian earthquake.
Our car zoomed past the few freeway ramps between Middletown and Ferguson in no time at all. The picketing yesterday had been peaceful but by night things turned bad with rocks being pitched at the police and some people got out of control. We could still smell some teargas that the police used break it all up.
We signed up at the NCAA desk. A black man who wore a white shirt and a tie said to a group of about 20 of us, “welcome friends. My name is Tony Larkins and I will be your group leader. Stay with me at all times unless you hear the word ‘Disperse.’ Now please raise your right hand and repeat these words. I promise to be nonviolent during this protest.”
We all repeated his words.
“Thank you," he said, “We are going to march up and down the street for the next two hours. You may take a button or sign from the table. Does everybody understand?"
“Yes." Everyone shouted.
Just about eleven in the morning, all the groups came together and we started marching. I guess there are about 1000 people black-and-white. I started to get so nervous I could barely walk. Then I saw in front of our group, a bunch of troublemakers on one side were throwing rocks and cussing at the line of police wearing helmets on the other side. I went from being nervous to being a little scared.
The leaders of our march called out with bullhorns: “Stay together follow your leaders.” Somehow they marched us right between the police and the troublemakers. There we stopped and I wondered what would happen next. Both sides it seemed, pretended like we were not there. Bottles and stones flew above us towards the police line and the police came at us with batons. Then teargas exploded. Even though wasn’t right near me my eyes watered and I started coughing. It was awful. I started running evening before I heard from the bullhorns, “Disperse!”
Dad yelled, “Run follow me. Meet at the car.”
People took off in all directions with police chasing them One cop chased my dad who tripped and fell. The policeman was on top of him with his baton, ready to strike.
Suddenly, just behind me Lisa yelled, “Robert Pickens, I know you.”
The policeman stopped and stared. All of us found ourselves back at the car unhurt.
Dad unlocked the car and said, “Let’s go.”
As the car entered the freeway, Lisa said, “Well I guess we know at least one of those cops is a racist. Pickens used to hang out with my father’s group of rednecks.”
No one else said anything. I guess we were little bit shocked.
***
We didn’t go back to Ferguson after that mess but we couldn’t stop watching it on the news. It’s the main thing we talked about.
I feel much closer Lisa now. It’s like we are a real brother and sister.
I’m hanging out less with Sarah, it’s going to be strange without her in middle school. She’s looking forward to being in high school. But we sat together just the other day to talk about what happened and how we felt about that day in Ferguson.
She said, “With all that happened in Ferguson, I think pride day is more important than ever. I think every middle school should do it.”
I said, “Yeah I think so too. But I’ve learned an important lesson. There’s no such thing as good people and bad people. I guess everything is not all black and white. There are lots of shades of gray.”
Sarah looked at me with a big smile on her face. “You know Roger, you have potential.
***
It took all the way until November 24th for the Grand Jury to make up their minds what to do about this whole mess. To sum it all up the said that after Officer Wilson stopped Michael Brown for robbery, Michael attacked the officer in his patrol car. He shot ten times in self defiance the last bullet finally killed Mr. Brown. There would be no trial.
I listened closely to the whole grand jury report and really I don’t know what to believe. It seems like Michael did a whole bunch of things wrong, But-- ten shots at close range, really? Even my Dad who has a lot of respect for the police had a hard time with that.
Anyways after the report people went nuts in Ferguson. There were riots and buildings burned. I’m not going to go near the place for a while. It’s all too bad. I guess it’s like that rock and roll song I’ve heard my parents listen to: The ain’t no cure for the Summertime Blues.