When My Best Friend Was White

Thinking back, there were a few times when my best friend(s) were white. I grew up in Minneapolis, whose population was no greater than fifteen percent Black. The block I grew up on had a dozen kids close in age, most of them white. During the summer, I burst out the back door at nine a.m. every morning and ran down the alley to go to Lyle's house. Lyle had a basketball hoop attached to his garage, he owned a soccer ball, whiffle ball, and plastic bat, and his mother always served Kool-Aid when it got hot. When it rained, we played baseball with Topps baseball cards and a deck that described every activity (fly out, ground out, double, home run, etc). I would compile statistics at home at night, keeping up with batting averages, earned run averages, and league leaders in home runs. <a href="https://medium.com/our-human-family/when-my-best-friend-was-white-8f39fb3cda19">Click Here</a>