In a message dated 12/21/2002 9:02:00 AM Mountain Standard Time, NJ-MEMORIES-D-request@rootsweb.com writes: > When my son was born in 1948 there was a family from Mississippi who lived > next door. On the way here they stopped in the Newark Train station and > her > little boy (about 5) had to go to the bathroom. When he got inside he saw > a > black boy in there and promptly told him to get out and go to the black > bathroom. > I remember a really heart-warming story from the Reader's Digest that took place somewhere in the Deep South, right after the Little League down there was integrated. The local businesses, though, weren't. As the story went, two white kids and a black one had just left Little League practice together and decided to head for the local drugstore for a soda. When the three boys sat down at the counter, the soda jerk came up to them and told the kids that they couldn't stay if the black kid stayed with them. "Don't you know that this store is segregated?" he asked them. "Oh, that's no problem," said one of the white boys. "We have him segregated. He's sitting between us." It's a shame that we don't have kids like that solving our problems for us . . . Doris in Colorado (Up2Nutrix@aol.com) "For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. -- Luke 2:11