Prejudice Sucks
Sometimes memory is fragmented. I have no idea when I photographed this Louisiana cop. All I remember is my prejudice when I looked at him.
“Cop. Probably sadistic, certainly mean.” All this based on his looks, which just damn well reminded me of all the bad movies I’d seen about southern sheriffs. He was taciturn; probably saw me as the same movie type he didn’t like of damn hippies.
I was about to squat and sit down on a little mound when he said, “I wouldn’t sit there if I were you boy.” I looked at him and thought, “Now he’s going to tell me where to sit or stand?”
I said, “Why not?”
He looked at me, looked down at the mound and let out a bit of a chuckle and said, “’Cause you’re about to sit down on a fire ant hill, and I ...
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