Rosa's Riding With Us Today

Today is October 24^th, 2013.

On this day in 2005, Rosa Parks died of natural causes at the age of 92 in her Detroit, MI apartment. Eight days later she was buried in Detroit’s Woodlawn Cemetery, after laying in repose in Montgomery, Alabama; the Capitol Rotunda in Washington, DC; and in Detroit’s Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History.

On December 1st, 1955, Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat in the “colored” section of a Montgomery, Alabama bus to a white passenger, after the white section had filled up. Rosa’s defiant refusal changed the course of history.

When Rosa passed away I was living in Milwaukee, WI, on the northwest side – a predominantly black neighborhood of the city.  On November,  2^nd, 2005, the day of Rosa’s burial, the Milwaukee Transit System decided to honor her place in history by placing a placard in the window above the front seat of every city bus, commemorating Rosa Parks.

Since I don’t drive a car, I used the Milwaukee bus system extensively, and did so on that day as well. I rode the bus quite a few times that day, and every time I rode the bus I saw something that is indelibly etched into my mind and heart.

First, a logistical note…. The left and right front seats on all Milwaukee busses face the aisle of the bus, rather than facing forward. This allows them to be folded upward, and used to accommodate a rider using a wheelchair.

When I got on the bus for my first ride of the day, I noticed the front seats were down and nobody was sitting in them, and I noticed what a nice placard had been designed and taped to the bus window above the right-side front seat. I took a seat about 2 rows in back of the front seats.

A few stops later, a teenager got onto the bus, and I witnessed something I’ll never forget.

The teen spied the empty seat at the front of the bus, paused a few seconds and sat down. Immediately, an older black gentleman sitting in front of me said in a booming voice, “Don’t you DARE sit there. That’s Rosa’s seat. She’s riding with us today.”

The teen was obviously stunned into silence, and his face told the world that he had no idea what the man was talking about. The black bus patron continued, “Son, do you know who Rosa Parks is? Well, let me tell you.”

He then went on to give a calm, measured account of how Rosa Parks changed history for all people, but for black people in particular. The generations were connecting in a way that no history class, no formal lecture, no star-studded movie, could do. It was one-on-one… heart-to-heart… and as the older man told the story, the young man sat in rapt attention. A torch was being passed. If there is an inscription on that imaginary torch, I think it says, “You didn’t live through this, but I did.. and I want you to know what happened… because it is important… and when you are older, I want you to pass this torch to the generation that comes after you.”

I forget the exact words he used, but I remember the emotion behind them – that Rosa took a stand for human decency… and we all should treat each other with human decency.

I rode the bus quite a few times that day, and EVERY time I rode the bus I saw the same scene repeated… just with different people. It was interesting to me, that when the teen was a female, a woman would do the talking, and men would talk to the boys. I seriously doubt the bus system intended for the “designated seat” to be vacant all day, but to the black citizens of Milwaukee, they felt Rosa was with them all day… sitting right there with them… and they made that happen.

I still remember that day… and now, it seems we need to think about Rosa’s message even more. 

At this time in my personal history, I cannot remember anything like the rancor and spite we see around us each day. I'm not only talking about the deep chasm that divides our political institutions, but the daily interactions among regular people.... road rage....domestic violence.... school shootings, and the like. Rosa, now more than ever before, we need you to ride with us today.