The story of the first "Racist" I ever remember encountering:
Grew up in mostly white neighborhood, the only exception were the families in the cul-de-sac the street over from mine. Next door neighbor was a white family with three generations living in the house at the time.

Grandmother was super friendly, always encouraged her grandkids to play with me and my siblings. They were kind of weird though so usually just hung out for the food. Grandfather clearly the head of the house, everyone deferred to him. "Dont sit in that chair thats grandads" etc

One day, we're playing in thier backyard, which shares a fence with the backyard of a particularly large black family in the cul-de-sac. Playing, doing normal kid stuff, killing bugs, throwing rocks at each other suddenly "RUFF!!RUFF-RUFF".
The black family had let out thier dog

A particularly mean Rottweiler, unspirsingly. He just stands as close to the fence as he can get glaring at us, barking. We ignore him and keep playing for a minute or two until *WHAM* backdoor flys open, Grandpa standing there with his gun. Hes shouting, "fuckin dog, better get"

Dogs losing it now.Jumping on the fence, bending the chain link. Black guy comes out of his house, also gun in hand. Me and other kids just frozen there.Grandpa starts telling the Black guy off "you should trian your dog better". Black guy shouting back. I couldn't understand him

I start to realize things may get bad, so I grab my brothers and drag them back toward our house. Hear the only man tell the Black guy something like "Go ask your Dad what happened the last time yall f*cked with me"
Curious but not enough to overcome the fear of adults fighting

They must've defused the situation somehow as no one was shot. Few days later me and the sibling go over to play, we're told to stay in the front yard by thier mom. "We don't need Grandpa to get riled up again"
Speak of the devil, Grandpa comes out. "F*ckin monkeys" he grumbles

He sits down on the porch rocker and with the boldness of a child I ask him "so what did you do to thier dad?"
He looks at me, fire in his eyes for a second. "I beat the tar outta him"
Now all the kids are interested.
"Why Grandpa?"
"They tried to get fresh with your grandma"

Tells us about how they over in roughly the same time as the black family. One grandma is out in the yard, gardening. When suddenly wild black man appears. Hits on her, grabs for her, ya know the usual routine for them.
Grandpa, at work at the time hears about it all later.

"So, I rounded up a few boys. And we went into that cul-de-sac and drug not only the guy my wife told me about but each one of those nigs out and beat em. We beat em so bad its a suprise they even had any color left in 'em" he laughs. "They had no right to come after my wife"

"Nor any white girl" he said nodding to the neighnor girl.
I remember thinking it was kinda wierd but enjoyed the story anyway.
As the years went by, the cul-de-sac dwellers got even more agressive dogs, had loud parties late at night, broke our windows with rocks, and worst

of all they poisoned our dog. Didnt even try to hide it. Just a bowl full of antifreeze right on our side of the fence. Constant verbal abuse when they saw us too.
The nextdoor neighbors never had anything happen to them.
I started to wish my dad would do what the old man did.

I went from thinking the old man was a bit of a crazy guy, to thinking he did the only reasonable thing the cul-de-sac people actually understand. Meeting aggression with aggression.