BLACK PRESIDENT, Chapter 40. John gets hit by a car while bicycling on Chicago's South side--driver pays him off, brother too.

CHAPTER FORTY

September 14, 1974

Thirteen-year-old John Little had been riding his bike around Kimbark Street with brother Jackson trailing close behind. It had been a contest of sorts, and the boys knew that with twilight leading to dusk they only had a few more minutes to play. Who could outrun who...between 49th and 48th streets? Darting out of driveways, turning sharp corners, shooting up alleys, John caught sight of his brother and pedalled harder. Just as he felt the bike drop down for a driveway, John found himself knocked sideways and skidding to the ground. Jane Porter, a White woman, backing her ‘49 Chevy out of Mario’s garage, had struck John’s bike as he was passing on the sidewalk. Fortunately, the accident occurred at extremely slow speed, the car inching out the driveway while John was braking to round a corner. Still, there was some real panic in Mrs. Porter’s eyes.

“Oh God!” she screamed, as she yanked on the emergency brake, turned off the engine and jumped out. It was dark, but the headlights illuminated the sidewalk and she could clearly see the fallen figure. Before she could reach her victim, Jackson was at his brother’s side.

“John! You OK?” he asked quickly, while trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah...OK. I guess,” said the twin, still in a bit of a daze.

“I’m so sorry,” exclaimed Mrs. Porter, as she arrived at the child’s side. Before she could do anything beyond stand there looking worried, Jackson had lifted the bicycle off his brother’s right leg and helped him up from the pavement. The bike was banged up, but not seriously damaged. Jackson straddled the bike and held the front tire tightly in place with his knees as he re-aligned the handlebars. Meanwhile, Mrs. Porter grabbed her purse from the front seat, dug into her wallet and gave each boy a five dollar bill, making them promise not to tell their parents what had happened.

Driving away from the close call, Mrs. Porter chided herself for continuing to get her car serviced at a garage in her old neighborhood of ever-encroaching Black families. Bad part of town – all black now. Short-sighted. Stupid. Never again. She had heard about White people being sued by Blacks for minor accidents like the one that had just occurred. Her friend, Jean, had advised her of the accepted procedure in such instances. “Just give them a little money...five or ten bucks, right there on the spot. Cheaper than a lawsuit!”

Back at the house, John Little hid his money in the usual place-- inside his hollowed-out National Geographic magazines. Jackson, on the other hand, wasn’t one to have secrets or hide his treasures. He left the $5 on the top of his dresser, even after John told him it could lead to trouble with their mother. John proved to be the prophetic one in this case.

“Where did this money come from?” demanded Sarah angrily, the next evening after school. There was no good answer he could give, so Jackson explained exactly what happened.

“A white woman gave it to me when she hit John’s bike with her car.” He watched his mother’s eyes grow wide.

“What the hell! A White woman hit John?”

“Well, not too hard. Just knocked him over when she drove out of a garage.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“Outside, maybe?”

Sarah left Jackson’s side, hurried down the hall and out into the warm night air.

“JOHN!” Sarah yelled out. “JOHN! COME HERE!”

“Hi mom,” called John, as he headed back to the front yard from the vacant lot behind their apartment building. “What’s up?”

“I found your brother’s money. Didn’t I tell you two not to take money from strangers?”

“Yeah...but this was different. The lady paid to fix my bike.” John hoped his mother wouldn’t ask about his five-dollar bill as well.

“You both got money?”

“Yes,” John answered. He knew lying wasn’t an option.

“A White woman hits your bike...with you on it...and gives Jackson money too! How come I never heard about this?” John just shrugged his shoulders.

“Listen up now,” said Sarah, mad as she’d ever been. “First, don’t ever take money if you didn’t earn it properly. Secondly, any money you need to hide from your momma, wife or loved ones... is dirty money. Money is only good if it’s ready to make your life easier in some way. When money makes your life harder you need to give it away, to someone who desperately needs it. And keep just enough so you’ll be happy again.”

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