Racial prejudice is ugly. I never knew how ugly until I was on the receiving end.
“Cornell” was a black kid from the projects on the South Side of Chicago. He was a neatly dressed, diminutive young man, with a round, open face and a smile that could light up a room. He was the kind of guy you instantly liked. And we became fast friends my sophomore year in college. I was a small town boy from rural southern Iowa and he was a big city boy from Chicago. Neither of us had really ever had a friend like the other. He did not run around with many white kids in school. Other than one family in my hometown—who were nice folks and well respected in the community—I did not know many black people.