""THE STAND" Written by Tragedy 503, transcribed and photos added by Lettey Buchanan

The Stand

"My Warren Moon Story"

Tragedy 503

 I want to share another story of my childhood with you all. This was the first time that I found my voice against racism. So without further ado, here we go.

Steve Largent

As many of you know I had collected football cards throughout most of my childhood. From a very young age, I began filling up my lunch box with football cards I got from friends of mine at school. In no time at all, I had gathered myself two lunch boxes completely full of football cards. So full in fact, that I could barely close the lunch boxes to latch them. 

Dave Kreig

Of course, being a huge Seahawks fan, my prized possessions were my Steve Largent and Dave Kreig cards. Largent was my absolute hero growing up. 

At the time my mom was married to my abusive step-father, who did things that where unspeakable to my brothers ad myself. I will leave that part of the story alone, but instead I go into how hateful a person this step-father was to us.  He was constantly trying to take my football cards away and he forbid my mother from buying me cards. 

I remember my mom used to sneak the cards in the house, hiding them in her pants after a long night of working the graveyard shift. She would stop by the gas station on her way home, to get gas and would grab me a 50 cent pack of cards. She would slide them under the locked bedroom door (where my step-father usually kept me and my brother locked most of our days) or she would give me a hug on my way out the door to school and the slide them into my jacket pocket. This way I could look at them while outside waiting for the bus. 

I would take these cards and keep every Seahawk one I got without exception. I didn't even trade my doubles, but I would take all the other cards and try to trade those for Seahawk's cards, or any great player at the time. One of the great players that I coveted, that was not a Seahawk, was soon to be Hall of Fame Quarterback Warren Moon. 

I remember him throwing touchdowns to Haywood Jeffries, and he was a Pro Bowler it seemed like every year. Not only that, but he seemed like an all around good guy (and his numbers were up there with the greatest quarterbacks to ever play the game, not to mention he had a cool name like "Warren Moon). 

Well to get my story back on track, one of my prized possessions was a Warren Moon Rookie Card that I had acquired though trading probably fifty cards for it. But it was completely worth it. It was one of the most prized cards  I had ever owned, and as a kid, it's monetary worth seemed pretty high to me as well. 

One day I came home from school and upon entering my room, found my step-father huffing and puffing from having torn my room apart. I'm not exactly sure what he was looking for, but during the course of the raid he had found one of my lunch boxes full of football cards (which happened to be the one that contained my Seahawks cards and my prized Warren Moon Rookie card). I had taken my other lunch box full of cards to school to trade for more cards the next day, thankfully, but the ones that I hadn't wanted to trade had been left at home, and he had found them. 

My step-father began screaming at me, saying I had stolen money from him to buy the football cards. He noticed that most of the cards were Seahawks and he began to make fun of the team. He called them sea chickens,telling me they all had A.I.D.S. This situation in itself wasn't uncommon, him having told me on several occasions that whole Seahawks team had died in a plane crash or a bus accident, just to crush my world. This time he decided to take it further. He started sorting through the cards and making fun of each individual player (either by making fun of their name or bashing how they looked). Being only in fifth grade or early sixth grade, this made me emotional and I remember falling to the ground feeling powerless to stop it. 

And then it happened, he saw the Warren Moon Rookie card in it's own special plastic container at the bottom of the Q-Bert lunch box. Instantly he began to make black jokes and told me that I owed him money, that he wasn't gonna have no (racist N Word) living in his 

house rent free, and Shhhhhwwip, just like that he ripped my Warren Moon Rookie card in half. I was devastated. I felt like I couldn't move. He told me until "that monkey" starts paying rent, he's not allowed in the house. Suddenly something inside me snapped. I jumped back up to my feet and charged at him. My attack was not triumphant though, as with one hand my step-father slapped me so hard, that I landed up against the wall, saw lights, and couldn't hear anything. 

Halfway dazed, I started reciting anti-racist things that they had told us in school. I told him that we were all equal and that nobody was a monkey, that we are all just people and that if he didn't like Warren Moon, it wasn't because he was black, but because he felt inferior to him. This enraged my step-father, that I would even question his ethics or morals, and that I would even suggest to him a black man was better then he was. He told me just y possessing that Warren Moon Rookie card, that I had contracted A.I.D.S and he wanted me out of his house (of course in all reality, he was unemployed and my mother was the one working and paying the rent at the house). Unfortunately my mother was at work while all this was happening, so there was no one to help me now. 

My step-father told me to pack my stuff and leave. So, I packed my stuff. Just my backpack full of clothes, a few Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle toys, and of course the lunch box full of my Seahawk cards. I walked out into the living room, still crying, and told him I was leaving. He ripped my backpack off my back and took the lunch box from me. He told me to go back to my room, that I was such a disgrace that he didn't want to even look at me. 

I was slightly re-leaved that I didn't have to go out into the world alone, but at the same time I thought it really couldn't get any worse out there, then it was in here at the time. Just a few months prior to this, me and my brother had witnessed our step-father in a drunken rage, putting the barrel of a shotgun into our mothers mouth and threatening her life if she ever attempted to leave him. I didn't think I could hate a person anymore then I hated him. 

About a half an hour later, I heard him yell down the hallway for me to come get my Seahawks cards from him if I wanted them still. I hurried to my feet ad down the hall to reclaim my collection, but as I passed by the bathroom, he began laughing and tell me "here they are" and that I could have them back now that he had "purified them of A.I.D.S. As I peered into the bathroom, there in the bath tub were my Seahawks cards. Crumpled, ripped, and soaked in his alcoholic urine. He had pissed on my whole collection of Seahawks cards. 

He then told me to clean them out of the tub. I cried and refused. I received seven or eight swats with his leather belt across my back, legs, and ass until I finally gave in and agreed to clean them up.

It was probably four or five days later, while on a trip to the store with my mother, that I could finally tell her what had happened. I again broke down in tears, telling her what he did and about the Warren Moon Rookie card and the whole Seahawks collection. 

We both knew that there was nothing she could do about it at the time and she assured me that things would be OK, that I could build my collection back up again. That in fact,she would buy me a pack of cards at the store so that I could start rebuilding my collection that day. We both took it as a good sign when I got a Warren Moon Pro Bowl card in that very pack of cards she had bought me that day. 

To this day I can't forget what a terrible person my step-father was and I'm glad to say that shortly after that incident my mother split with him completely. 

About two weeks ago, while at a card shop getting football cards for my son, Merax's, Easter basket, I saw a Warren Moon Rookie card in the display case. I didn't have the money for it that day, but I promised myself I would go back and get it, and I did so a week later. The full power of the circle of that situation had finally hit me. I mean, 25 years later, I was able to purchase this card from a shop for only $15 and remembering the physical punishment my step-father had given me, had healed a long time ago, but mentally I had carried it around with me. This story. For too many years, but I've always used it as a reference to the type of person I would never grow up to be. 

The proof was right there in my hand. I grew up to be a caring father who nurtures my son and supports him and his dreams. Despite all t he hate my step-father tried to instill in me, I grew up to be a loving person and have taught my son equality and the importance of not judging others. My stand began when my Warren Moon card was ripped in half. I decided that day to speak for what I believed was right even if brought to hardship doing so. When I look back at, I'm proud of the stand that I took. Through time I've been able to obtain almost all the cards that I lost again, but the opportunity to do what was right was  the once in a lifetime chance I had to take, and I'm glad I took it. 

Lettey Buchanan-

If someone you love is suffering at the hands of another due to domestic violence or child abuse, please report it and get them the help they need. You may just save a life.