The Lady in Red group was approaching Blakely early the following afternoon when Gwen tapped Steve on the shoulder and indicated that she wanted him to pull over. She was addressing her friends as soon as they turned their bikes off.
"This may be a little tense up ahead, so we need to be cautious," stated Gwen. "I don't have to tell any on you that our men are capable of handling almost anything if we stay out of their way. However, we need to be smart, not tough, when possible. We have to find the reasonable people in the town and work on them.
"I want to change places with Naomi and sit behind Jared. We're dealing with racial issues here and I think we need to show everyone that we don't subscribe to that type of stupidity. I'm as white as they come and Jared is pretty dark. Naomi is somewhere in between, but it'll be obvious to everyone that Jared and I are friends, as are Steve and Naomi. I hope that our friendship will help convince people to listen to us. Any ideas or suggestions?"
"How about I climb on back of Billy's bike and Charlotte rides with Jeff?" proposed Julie Wilson. "Jeff is dark and Charlotte is fair skinned. Billy will have to live with my chest pushed against his back the rest of the way. If he can deal with that, we should get going."
"The only thing better would be if you drove and I rode behind you," grinned Billy. "We'd both have our hands full."
"Dad! These awful men lust after your wife. You must feel terrible," pouted Naomi as she concealed her grin.
"Don't worry about me," deadpanned Jeff. "Charlotte, that's not the handlebar you're gripping so tight!"
"Sorry, Mr. Wilson!" laughed Charlotte as she went along with his joke. "I bet I can steer with it though. It feels like a big joystick!"
National Guard troops were in Blakely when Steve and Naomi led the group into town. Pedestrians recognized them within seconds. Steve rode toward the downtown area not far from where the property they intended to buy was located. As they approached, it became readily apparent that there were some angry people on the streets.
As planned, the group stopped at various points along the main street. People were gathered in groups and the tension was tangible. Guard troops patrolled the sidewalks. Many of the businesses had plywood over the windows, although the doors were still open for business. It would only take the owners a matter of minutes to seal off their business if need be.
Steve took Naomi's hand and walked into a small diner near where he had parked his bike. He saw that his friends were going into various businesses up and down the street as locals pointed at them and spoke excitedly to each other.
Steve led Naomi up to the counter and offered her a seat before taking one himself. At older black man watched him from behind the counter and nodded when Steve took his seat.
"We'd like to get something to eat," stated Steve calmly. "I understand there are some problems here. Do you have any trouble serving lunch to Naomi and me, Sir?"
"Are you kidding? I'd be proud as hell to serve you both. I was in the Navy in Vietnam and I appreciate what you folks are doing for veterans. What would you like?"
Steve and Naomi ordered, and as they waited for their lunch, they questioned the old man about the situation in the area. He was a fountain of information and wasn't shy about expressing his opinions.
"The real problem, as I see it, is no jobs and no real education for most of these young people. The Madison Plant shut down last year and things have been sliding downhill ever since. Now we have outsiders, white and black, coming to town to try to keep things stirred up so they can be on TV and write books about their experiences. They don't care about this town or its residents," insisted the old man.
"Our company is interested in buying that plant to make action figures. That shouldn't be too much different than the dolls and plastic figures Madison made. How would that be accepted here?" asked Steve. "We have no interest in pouring money down a rat hole. We need employees that show up every day and aren't risking their lives to do so. What are the chances we could be successful here?"
"I'd say they were good if you pay a decent wage and make it clear what you expect. If these folks had some money, they'd be a hell of a lot happier and much better citizens. That's assuming you'd hire locals and not have outsiders taking all of the jobs," replied the old man thoughtfully.
"We want to discuss this with people that are regarded as leaders of the community, from all backgrounds. We'll pay well over minimum wage. We'd donate to the local schools and a few other civic organizations, but we need to feel comfortable that it would be appreciated and we'd be welcome in this community," reasoned Naomi. "My father is retired Navy and he, along with my mother, are going to be in charge of production here, if my friends are convinced that it'll work."
"Your parents are black, right?" asked the old man before he smiled when Naomi grinned and nodded. "There may be a few skinheads that won't work for a black boss, but most of these people really don't care as long as they can feed their families. We don't have a race problem, although you wouldn't know it from the media coverage. We have a survival problem. We need to be able to pay our bills and support our families. If the folks around here can do that, there won't be any race issues. I'm pretty sure of that!"
An hour later the group gathered near Charlie's bike as agreed upon earlier. They quickly discussed what they had learned.
"It seems to be the opinion of most of the business people that the real issue here is poverty and crime," summed up Jeff Wilson. "The race thing is a result of too many dogs fighting over the few scraps left in this town. They're desperate people and they're doing desperate things."
"The teenage boys kept asking about Steve and Jared," revealed Charlotte. "They wanted to know if you guys would talk football with them. For some reason, Billy's exploits at state went unmentioned by these uninformed fans."