One summer day my father sent me to buy wire for our farm. At 16, I liked 36 赊账) at the store.better than driving our truck, 37 this time I was not happy. My father had told me I’d have to ask for credit(
Sixteen is a38 age, when a young man wants respect, not charity. It was 1976, and the ugly 39 of racial discrimination was 40 a fact of life. I’d seen my friends ask for credit and then stand, head down, while the store owner 41 whether they were “good for it.” I knew black youths just like me who were42 like thieves by the store clerk each time they went into a grocery. My family was 43 . We paid our debts. But before harvest, cash was short. Would the store owner44 us ?
