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Ron Jackson's Perspective
Ebony Voices
July 27, 2004
Racial profiling in
the skies |
Ebony Voices
Ron has begun submitting
articles & editorials for online publication at Ebony Voices.
We plan to make these documents available on Ron's website, since we
cannot link you to his material on their site. |
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Note from Editor:
You are about to read an exaggerated account of what happened on a
domestic flight that, I, Ron Jackson, took from San Francisco to
Chicago. My RIJ Team (me, myself, and I) debated for a very short
time about how to handle this, but after reading Terror in the
Skies, Again?, www.womenswallstreet.com, Annie Jacobsen’s racist
account of her harrowing flying experience with 14 Middle Eastern
passengers, I decided it was something I had to share. What
does it have to do with racial profiling? Nothing and
everything. Written in the style of Jacobsen, here is my
story.
On July 18, 2004, at 6:55 p.m., I flew on ATA flight
#936 from San Francisco to Chicago with my wife. Also on our
flight were about 150 American Caucasians between the ages of
approximately 12 and 75 years old. What I experienced during
that flight has caused me to question whether the United States of
America can realistically uphold the civil liberties of every
individual, even non-whites, and protect its citizens from racial
profiling.
On that Sunday, our journey began uneventfully.
Starting out that afternoon at SFO, we turned in our rental car and
proceeded to the ticket counter. We made our way through
security screening and passed the time away waiting to board our
flight to Chicago by shopping at the gift shop for our grandson and
getting some reading material. We then headed to our gate and
waited for the pre-boarding announcement. Standing next to us
also waiting to board was a group of about 150 white Americans with
different dialects. Some spoke in twang, some in drawl, others
in high-pitch nasal. Some wore typical American clothing like
jeans and sweats. A few wore western garb with great big
shinny buckles and even bigger hats. One Lizzy Borden looking
young female, talking on a cell phone incessantly about nothing,
wore a very form-fitting top with Abercrombie and Fitch across the
front. Another older overweight male walked with a limp.
When the pre-boarding announcement was made, we handed our tickets
to the ATA agent and walked down the jet way with the group of white
people right behind us.
My wife was determined to carry her own overstuffed bag
of shoes by herself, so I turned to the group behind us and said,
“You go ahead. This could take awhile.”
“No, you go ahead,” one of the men replied. He
smiled pleasantly and extended his arm for me to pass. He was
young, looked a bit like Jeffrey Dahmer, maybe in his early 20’s,
and wearing a cowboy hat. I gave him a “manly” nod of thanks,
and we boarded the plane.
Once on the plane we took our seats in coach (seats 16D
and 16E), the row just behind the emergency exit row. Sure
enough, the woman in the tight fitting top and still talking on her
cell phone sat a few rows from us. The young cowboy sat in a
row behind us, too. I didn’t turn around to identify his exact
location. The rest of the white people were seated throughout
the plane, and several made their way to the back.
As we sat waiting for the plane to finish boarding, we
noticed another large group of white people boarding. The
first guy looked almost like Timothy McVeigh. He was clean cut
and wore a nice suit and sat up front near the cockpit.
Another guy looked like Ted Bundy, a third looked like Richard
Speck, and one middle-age woman looked like Squeaky Fromme.
The rest of the group sat throughout the coach section.
As “aware” minority Americans, my wife and I ignored
each other and continued to get comfortable and to stake the first
claim to the armrest. I noticed some of the other passengers
paying attention to the situation as well.
As boarding continued, we watched as, one by one, most
of the white people made contact with each other. They
continued to look at each other and nod as if they were all related
or something. I could tell my wife was beginning to feel “out
of place.”
The take-off was uneventful. But once we were in
the air and the seatbelt sign was turned off, the unusual activity
began. The girl in the tight shirt got out of her seat with
her cell phone headpiece in place and went to the lavatory at the
front of the coach. She was taking her cell phone with her.
When she came out of the lavatory, she still had her cell phone with
her, but the headpiece was not on her head. She walked down
the aisle to the back of the plane still clutching her cell phone.
When she passed two very young white guys looking like a couple of
Columbine High School killers sitting mid-cabin, they gave each
other high fives. When she got to her seat, they were still
smiling.
Then another white fellow looking a bit like John Wayne
Gacy stood up and took something from his own carry-on in the
overhead bin. A clown suit maybe? It was something
unidentifiable. He headed to the back of the cabin with the
object. Five minutes later, several other white people started
using the front lavatory consecutively (thank goodness not
simultaneously). In the back, several white people stood up
and began using the lavatory as well.
For the next hour, the Caucasians congregated in groups
of two and three at the back of the plane for varying periods of
time, possibly talking about bass fishing or quail hunting.
Meanwhile, in the front section of the plane, just a few feet from
the cockpit door, the guy in the suit stood up. Not one of the
white flight crew suggested that any of these white people take
their seats.
Watching all this, my wife was now beyond “nosey.” I
tried to stop her from being so nosey and told her to go to the
bathroom herself to see what a lavatory looked like. When she
left her seat, I looked across the aisle and made eye contact with a
white, frumpy, but quasi-friendly looking David Duke type. I
gave him my best
gee-all-these-white-folks-sure-seem-to-know-each-other look.
He responded with a-we-ain’t-all-related look. I immediately
looked away not wanting to show my ignorance.
When my wife returned from the lavatory, I pretended to
be asleep so things wouldn’t seem suspicious. I wasn’t going
to trouble the flight crew with my insecurity. An hour or so
into the flight, the service cart began came with drinks and meals
for purchase. I didn’t dare share with the white attendant my
observation of all the strange things the white passengers were
doing. I just figured the security detail on board was aware
of it, too.
After seeing about 150 white people board separately,
and then act as a group, watching their usual glances, observing
their bizarre bathroom behavior, watching them congregate in small
Klan-like groups, I was still not that terrified. Before I am
labeled a racial profiler or – worse yet – a racist, let me add
this. I lived 14 years in southern California near the town of
Fallbrook, the home of Tom Metzger, a former grand wizard of the
KKK. I never once felt fearful. I never once felt unsafe.
I never had the feeling that anyone wanted to hurt me. This
time was no different.
Finally the captain announced the plane was cleared for
landing. It had been four plus hours since we left San
Francisco. The fasten seatbelt light came on, and I could see
the bright lights of Chicago. The flight attendants made one
final sweep of the cabin and strapped themselves in for landing.
I began to relax. Home, sweet home, Chicago was in sight.
We touched down and began to taxi to the gate. We
stopped a good distance before coming to a final and complete stop.
The fasten seatbelt sign remained lit. Suddenly I heard the
click, click, click of seatbelt unbuckling as several white people
stood up. The attendant announced that we had not reached the
gate and for the safety of all, those standing were to return to
their seats. Many of the whites ignored this announcement.
They stood there talking about the greasy pig contest of September
2002.
I looked around to see if anyone else was as annoyed by
all of this. I immediately spotted a frustrated couple two
rows back. The woman was frowning and fanning herself trying
to keep cool and to keep her Tammy Faye Baker make-up in place.
Finally we were allowed to disembark. My wife and I got off
the plane and saw many more whites in the airport, but no security
personnel was questioning any of them.
The next day, I began searching the internet for news
about the incident. There was nothing. I shared my story with
no one. I had heard of white passengers being denied seats or
being required to purchase two seats because they were obese, but I
never heard of any case where they were subjected to interrogation
just because they were white. I decided to let it go. I
wasn’t going to rack my brain doing research, especially not reading
anything by Ann Coulter. My 8th grade English teacher, Ms T., would
never consider any work of Ann Coulter research, anyway.
Talking this over with my wife, we figured these folks were just
everyday Americans trying to reach a destination.
So the question is… Do I think these white people were
terrorists? I’ll let you decide. But I wonder, if two
rednecks can build a bomb out of cow dung, blow up a federal
building, and kill 168 innocent people, couldn’t 150 whites learn to
act like normal folks on a plane?
The events above did happen on my flight, but not once
did I think any of them were a threat to the safety of the flight or
to our national security. I just penned my thoughts mirroring
Annie Jacobsen’s words to show how the national security scare
allows some racist people to be racist and justify it. |
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