Freedom's Children Read Online Free

don’t want it.” And we turned around and left.

RICKY SHUTTLESWORTH—BIRMINGHAM, ALABAMA
    I thought a lot about ending segregation because Daddy was so involved, and we got so many threats and telephone calls. I remember I used to think that if I had one wish, it would be that everybody would be blind. Then nobody would know what color anything was.

LARRY RUSSELL—BIRMINGHAM, ALABAMA
    When I was a real small kid, it was just the delight of your heart to go to town on Saturday. My mother used to take me to this store called J. J. Newberry. On the main floor was the snack bar. It was a “white only” snack bar. Down in the basement in the back of the store in a corner was where coloreds ate. It didn’t have half the variety of what was upstairs. When you’d pass through the main floor, the aroma from the “white only” snack bar was just terrific.
    When I was twelve or thirteen, I’d go to Newberry’s with friends. They had one water fountain for whites, and one for us. I used to think, What’s the difference between colored water and white water? What does white water taste like? I couldn’t wait to catch the drop on somebody to find out. My friend Joe and I went in there many nights and waited and waited until it was time for the store to close. They were busy trying to get people out, and we’d get us a sip of “white” water. It tasted no different. Water was water. The only thing different was with the black one you practically had to put your mouth on the thing to drink out of it. On the white side, they hardly had to bend over. Their water came up so free. This was mystifying.

    After my father’s regular work shift, he would do odd jobs for white folks. There was this nurse that Daddy worked for. When her name came up in our house, everybody stopped. If she called and said she needed Daddy to come over and knock the roof off the house, he’d get up out of his sleep to do it.
    She and her sister lived together. One Saturday she wanted somebody to help do some housework. I went to do mopping. She paid nicely. She was one of the head nurses at the hospital. I got there and started to work. They were going to eat, and they asked me if I wanted something. Naturally, first I said no. They insisted. “We cooked more than we can eat. Why don’t you come on and eat with us?” They were eating hot dogs. I really wanted to get through and get home, but since they were insisting, and I’d always been taught by my folks to be polite, I said, “Well, in that case, I’d be happy to.”
    They were both sitting at the table. They had the meal all prepared. She told me, “Wash your hands and come on in.” I thought that was a call to the table. But she took my plate to a little room off to the side. I had to sit in this dingy corner with just room enough for one person. Every now and then they’d holler back there and ask me, “Have you got enough?”
    I remember being so irked, I just wanted to get up and walk off. Because of my dad, I didn’t. But from that point forward, even though she paid nicely, I would never do any work for her alone. I would only go with my dad if I had to. I never told my dad what happened.
    For a while I turned sour against some of the things I had been taught in school. Things like the preamble of the Constitution, or the Constitution itself. When I was little, my ambition was to be an attorney. I wanted to learn about the Constitution. I was taught it was one of the greatest things. Then I found out that when the Constitution was written, the black man was not considered a whole person. So this could not have been written with us in mind. I couldn’t believe that on the one hand they’re saying this is the greatest country in the world with all this freedom, and I can’t even go to the movies here if I want to.
    One of the things in school every morning was to say the