Chapter-- 

"Oh yeah, we had a black guy come through here. He stayed for a few months and then moved on. I told him we are all brothers up here and everyone was welcome as long as they worked hard. He worked hard, very hard and got along with everyone. We were all nice to him. He taught us a few things we didn't know about ganga and had this stare dance I never figured out but the women loved it.What was that black guy's name?"

"He called himself 'The Judge,' as in the judgement."

"Oh right, I knew it was a strange name. The Judge, right. A wiry fellow, more East Africa than West. I asked him what the name was about."

"It's ironic," he told me. And I never saw him judge anything or anyone. Everything was good to him. "Good man," and then he'd giggle.

"He was from Los Angeles Rasputin."

"Right, that smoked out, flatland of nothiness. He was escaping anyting but the city itwelf!"

They had a picture of The Judge that they showed me. He had a put-on menacing scowl that was full of mischief and fun. He'd put up a hammock along the path to the waterfall and threw a netting over him to keep the bugs off. He only had a problem with one guy named Bishop. The moment they saw each other they were enemies. We talked to Bishop and told him to accept his brother and lighten up but Bishop was a hard guy. He's been in fights with black guys in the Army and didn't think much of them. "They want to do to you what they had done to them," he would say. Most of the wise people there argued against this notion. "They will hate us for enslaving their ancestors and we'll always think we're better than they are." Bishop was adamant about it, wouldn't listen to anyone and became more and more isolated.

David Eide
January 24, 2014