A Steakburger with Poppa

My Maternal Grandfather was born in Pine Bluff, Arkansas. He was a tall slender man with beautiful dark skin, and a dry, withering wit. He went to high school but dropped out to work after his father died. He was in the Civilian Conservation Corps, one of FDR’s New Deal programs, before joining the Army serving in World War 2. Upon returning from the war he moved to St. Louis where he met my Grandmother.

During all of this time, he struggled through Jim Crow, or what is often called American Apartheid. The Army he served in was segregated. He told me how he and all black troops were consigned to the lowest decks on the ships headed to Europe, being that, if the ships were torpedoed, those on the lowest decks would be the first to die if the bulkheads were sealed. He was subject to blacks-only water fountains and bathrooms. Even later in life after the Civil Rights Act, the Voting Rights Act, and the Fair Housing Act, moving from the city to the suburb of Olivette in the 70’s he was subject to redlining to the northside of Olive Boulevard.

During my youth, My Grandfather and I would traverse Olive Blvd. cutting through University City on our way to Olivette.

At 82nd and Olive was a massive Steak N’ Shake, with what looked like a restaurant and distribution center. We would pass this place regularly but would never stop by. I’d been there with my mother and with friends but never with him.

One day when I was 18 I was giving him a ride after dropping his car off at the mechanics. We were hungry and it was near lunchtime. As we were driving down Olive I suggested we go to Steak N’ Shake. He hesitated. Enthusiastically I said, “let’s go!”

He stated somewhat quietly, almost ashamedly “I’ve never eaten there.” “They wouldn’t serve Black People there so I just never went.”

This incited an enraged disbelief in me after all that he’d been through after all my community had been through, after the changes in laws and yes, society he still never brought himself to go to Steak N’ Shake. I asked him why he just replied “I’ve never gone.”

This is the damage purposefully inflicted on generations of people. This damage is passed down to the children of the people who had this damage inflicted upon them and so on. This is why you will read “JUNETEENTH Free-ish since 1865. There has been a large scale, state-mandated psychological warfare waged on people for centuries, a social contract that was never fulfilled.

But it’s 1986 so, I proceed to take my Grandfather to Steak N’ Shake. Steak N’ Shake had carhop service at the time where they would bring food out to your car. I asked him would he be more comfortable in the car versus going inside. He thought for a while and agreed to go inside. We went in and were seated we ordered cheeseburgers and fries. We even shared a shake. Afterward, I asked him what he thought and he replied “not bad…”

As I reflect on Juneteenth, I realize it is the small victories that keep us going. I remember the stories of my elders, I remember the injustices, I remember the hopes and I remember the progress. The story of Black People isn’t just suffering and doesn’t just start with chattel slavery. There is a long arc that hasn’t been heard. We have been telling our story. You should listen.

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