Keeping prejudice off the porch

Back in the ‘20s, the Klu Klux Klan, which had arisen shortly

after the Civil War, emerged again.

It was basically a white supremacy group that, in their typical

white uniforms with the peaked hoods, was supposed to terrify African

Americans and “keep them in their place.”

Since there were very few blacks in Orange County, they spread

their wings and took in Catholics and, I suppose, Jews although there

were precious few Jews in Orange County, either.

But I remember the anti-Catholic aspect because of Costin Bowman.

The Gardner family lived in Maywood. Across the street from the

Gardners lived the Bowmans. The Bowmans had a son, Costin. The

Gardners had a son, Robert. Not surprisingly, Costin and Robert were

friends. That set the stage for the following thrilling drama.

We had been living fairly tranquil lives, and so it was that one

night I was studying at the round oak table in the dining room while

my parents were reading in the front room. I heard some noise and

looked outside. Our yard was filled with men in long white robes,

each wearing a pointed hat.

I heard my mother say, “Frank,” which meant, “Frank, don’t do

anything foolish.” I heard him say, “Kate,” which meant: “Kate, this

is man’s business. Keep your nose out of it.” We weren’t a very

chatty family.

My father went to the door. One of the men in white robes said,

“Frank, we don’t have any problem with you except that your son is

associating with that Catholic kid from across the street.”

My father just nodded and stepped back into the house. He emerged

in a moment. In his hand he had a pistol, a .38-caliber Colt pistol

with a long barrel. He was smiling a big, friendly smile and spoke in

a quiet voice. “Men,” he said, “I hold in my hand a Colt .38

revolver.

“Doesn’t make much of a hole going in but tears a big hole coming

out. Now, I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to count to

three, and any of you still on my property when I get to three, he’s

a dead man. I’ll guarantee it. One ... “

He never got to three. He never even got to two. Our yard was

vacant. The funny thing was, my father actually shared their aversion

to Catholics, believing that Catholics “took orders from the Pope”

and couldn’t be depended upon to be true Americans. However, his

aversion to Catholics was nothing compared to his aversion to someone

telling him who he or his family could associate with -- particularly

a group of men hiding behind masks.

And it wasn’t a stance he maintained only for himself. Despite his

own prejudices, never once did he suggest to me that Costin Bowman

shouldn’t be my friend.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge.

His column runs Tuesdays.