I was in line at the Wendy’s in the airport for a coffee. The gentleman in front of me had a headset on with a wrap-around microphone, and he appeared to be in conversation with someone. But he turned around to me (I was in my military uniform) and spoke warmly and clearly.

“Thank you for your service, man.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

“I was born at Ft. Benning, man. I’m from Columbus,” he said.

“Really? That’s great. That’s actually where I’m stationed–at Benning,” I said. “But they’ve renamed it to Ft. Moore. They’re renaming almost all posts.”

“Man, why they doin’ that? How ’bout changing people’s mindset instead of changing history?”

Suddenly I thought I’d met my soulmate.

Here he and I were–different races, but both men of about the same age–and there was no racial animus. We were just two men–one black and on his way to Pennsylvania, and another a white one on his way to Idaho.

But he was not done talking. He kept going.

“I know, man, why they say they doin’ it. You and I both know. But why not change your mindset instead of renaming things, man? That’s what I say. Feed your mind. Expand your mind. Stop lookin’ each other up and down for colors, man.”

“I think we’re cut from the same cloth,” I said.

“It’s the mind, man. Anyway, man, I’m on my way to Pittsburgh. I’m in the oil business. But I want you to know it’ll always be Benning to me, man. I was born there. I grew up and went to school in Columbus. That’s home, man,” he said.

The girl behind the register called out his name for his coffee. He paid and retrieved his coffee, then turned around to me and again thanked me for my service. “Appreciate you, man. It’s still Benning, brother,” and he pointed to his right temple with his index finger and mouthed mindset again.