Life on the Color Line: The True Story of a White Boy Who Discovered He Was Black by Gregory Howard Williams

Author:Gregory Howard Williams [Williams, Gregory Howard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 1996-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Saturdays following breakfast Dad drove downtown to Wendell’s N & W Used Cars. While Wendell had a few old cars for sale parked beside the garage near the railroad tracks, he was never very busy. Mike played outside on the tracks in the wrecks, but I lingered inside while Dad shared jokes with the mechanics. I hoped that if I kept an eye on him he might decline the beer that seemed to be in constant supply.

It wasn’t long before he said, “Greg, you watchin’ me like an old mother hen. Why don’t you and Mike go downtown and buy some ice cream? Here’s a quarter.”

Mike and I walked up the Main Street hill, stopping to peer into store windows. We bought ice cream cones at the drugstore near the courthouse square. Then we walked across to the War Memorial and watched the Saturday shopping crowd. Everyone seemed so happy. Around noon we headed back to the garage to urge Dad to make a quick return to Nash so we wouldn’t miss lunch. Dad sent us across the street to the Railroadmen’s Cafe. As we sat there eating cheeseburgers, I remembered the time Grandpa Cook took me to the same café following a ride from Muncie on the diesel engine. I thought, If he were alive, life wouldn’t be so hard for us. After lunch we spent a long afternoon sitting on the railroad tracks. Dinner was served at Nash at five p.m. and Mike and I didn’t want to miss it, so around four o’clock we began to nag Dad in earnest. He would finally agree to go after a trip to the drugstore for a package of Clorets so his Nash co-workers wouldn’t smell beer on his breath. At Nash, Mike and I raced for the dining room, while Dad stayed behind in the trailer feigning illness.

One night I challenged Dad about the drinking.

“Greg, don’t worry about it. I’m only drinking on the weekends. I’m the model of sobriety during the week. I’m just letting my hair down a bit.”

“You said if Mr. Wolfe found you drinking, he’d fire you on the spot.”

“That’s the reason I only drink on the weekends. He goes home. By Monday morning I’m sober as a judge. You worry about yourself. I can handle it; everything is under control.”

One Friday just before midnight, Dad arrived outside Miss Dora’s, honking on the horn. Mike and I raced downstairs. As we opened the door I saw the car loaded with Dad’s fellow Nash patients passing around a bottle. Sensing disaster, I hesitated.

“Get in, Greg, I’m taking the boys down to the redlight district for a little therapeutic treatment!” he roared.

I knew Dad’s time at Nash was coming to an end.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.