Lundyn Bridges by Patrice Johnson Page A

in the game room. He didn’t trust them to movers and wanted them to ride in the car – he was afraid they might disappear. There were five pictures framed in black and gold – Exposition Field, Forbes Field, Three Rivers Stadium, Heinz Field and PNC Park. Each picture was noted with the date of the opening and final games – of course, the space to the right of the dash for Heinz Field and PNC Park was still blank. There were also five pictures in gold frames. Three of the pictures were of players – Roberto Clemente, Bill Mazeroski and Willie Stargell. The other two were team pictures – one of the Steelers after they won the Super Bowl in 1978, and it was signed by Franco Harris, Terry Bradshaw, and Lynn Swan. The other was of the Homestead Grays, and it was signed by Satchel Page.
    â€œPop, did you ever see them play?” I asked referring to the Grays.
    He almost looked embarrassed as he answered. “No,” he said shaking his head.
    â€œHow did you get the picture autographed?”
    â€œWhen I was in high school I went to a baseball exhibition. Satchel Page gave a phenomenal presentation on the Negro Baseball League, and I stood in line for over an hour to get this picture autographed.”
    Pop put an extra layer of bubble wrap on the picture.
    â€œThis one is really special,” he said holding his prized possession. “I hid this in my room until I left home.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œI was afraid my father would throw it away.”
    Mom Woodard came in with two pizzas, and we sat among the neatly stacked boxes in the game room. I had butterflies in my stomach and couldn’t finish my first piece.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Mom Woodard asked when she noticed I wasn’t eating.
    â€œNothing. I’m fine. Just thinking about the memories in the house.”
    I stretched out in the middle of the floor – this house was special because it had been my home. My life dramatically changed for the better when the Woodard’s took me in. They gave me more than a bed, they became my family.
    As we reminisced, Pop Woodard explained how my joining the family was an answer to a prayer he prayed when he was about my age. He always had a curiosity about African Americans, and as a child he couldn’t understand why white America was so antagonistic toward them solely based on the color oftheir skin. The more his family sought to indoctrinate him into white supremacy, the more he wanted to know about African Americans. He couldn’t understand why his family was so afraid of people who only wanted equality. What he saw on television was a plea from a group of people for justice and he saw no reason for them not to have it. He wanted answers, but spending his early years in Latrobe with prejudiced parents never afforded him the opportunity to ask questions. Even after moving to Lawrenceville, his father was adamant that he only associate with white kids – ‘pure white’ as his grandfather often reminded him.
    This sentiment was also echoed from the pulpit of the church his family attended. Pop said he was always confused by his pastor’s message about helping ‘those people’ who were not welcome to join their church, even though the Bible stated how much God loves everyone. He remembered his pastor urging the congregation to give out of the abundance God had given them during his yearly Christmas appeal to help feed the poor colored people who didn’t know enough to be self-sufficient. During his young adulthood, and as he grew spiritually, those remarks repulsed him. When he joined East Liberty Presbyterian Church, he asked God to eradicate the racism implanted in his heart and to allow him an opportunity to make a difference. He had no idea what God would do and by the time he and Mom Woodard signed up to be emergency foster parents through Christian Tabernacle’s outreach ministry, he had long forgotten his