My intention is not to sit in judgement or criticize yours ways, but if you look like a duck, walk like a duck and quack like a duck, you must be a duck.

We have suffered way too long to still believe  the same ole adages.  In 1949 I watched my mother pull the cord, get up and walk to our door (the back door) and  then to the front of the Greyhound bus with her arms loaded with her last baby and packages.  She let us (my sister and me) off first and as she was stepping down the bus driver got up from his seat and kicked her out of the door as he called her the N word.  She lived many tears after that and would say I will not give up until my children are grown.

She kept her word.  I miss my Mama.  Her birthday was 09/06/09, she would have be 98.  By the way the back door of the bus where blacks get off was directly over a huge mud puddle.

I will never forget, but I will never hate.  It hurts me, even today.  She taught me Love. 

 
Louisa A Dobbins
(c) 2009