Perhaps it is apocryphal. I don't know or remember. But my father tells a story of taking a fall ride on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I was about three or four and it was in the middle of the civil rights strife. We stopped for a picnic next to another family with a boy my age. I looked at him with great curiosity. Then I asked my parents very loudly, "Does that boy know his face is dirty?!"
Tonight I watched a black man acknowledge his election as the president of the United States. What a difference a lifetime makes?!
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