'Twenty-Four Hours to Ponder and Sweat'
Mr.
Raymond
Cormier,
Farmville,
Virginia
Back in 1961, I was the manager of a new, 44-unit apartment house in Palo Alto, California. The perks (free rent and telephone) helped pay the bills for us newlyweds. My graduate-student stipend of $1,500 from Stanford hardly met our expenses.
One day, a black couple knocked on the door asking to rent a vacant apartment. I hesitated for a moment, then thought, why not? A few days later, the apartment-house owner (let's call him Jim) came to me looking very upset. He said, "Raymond, I cannot believe you rented that apartment to those niggers. What on earth were you thinking? You have to return their deposit and rent check now. And tomorrow when they are away at work, I want you to go in there, remove all their furniture and belongings, and place them in the street below. When they come home, tell them you made a mistake and that the apartment was already rented."
Jim left, and I had a long 24 hours to ponder and sweat over his words. He returned the next day, expecting to see the couple's furnishings in the street. "Jim," I said, "I don't think I can do what you are asking. What is the problem, anyway? Have the other renters complained?" "Well, yes," he replied. "One did call to alert me that they were here." "I'm sorry, Jim," I said. "I think I'll pass on this order. Legally, I really do not think we have a right to do what you are suggesting."
Fortunately, Jim conceded. The black couple never knew, and the rest was soon history. And soon afterward, once the Civil Rights Movement got under way in this country, I felt vindicated.
