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As I Remember Itme into getting into a car full of her friends, including anolder boy who was the driver. I actually knew this boy fromchurch, but not well. Egged on by the crowd and what I nowrealize was probably alcohol, he took us for a ride thatmiraculously did not turn us into statistics. So glad was I tosurvive the ordeal that I never took another unauthorizedleave from a school campus, not even for my own “SeniorDitch Day”. Not even when the majority of the African-American student population saw me as a sell-out.by Georgia A. Dorsey 197

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As I Remember Iti NO MORE BLINDERSVOICES IN THE COUNTRY WERE becoming louder now.There had been riots in big cities and black folks wereventing their rage, rage that had been pent up andsuppressed for generations. There was no way this angerwas going away any time soon. Even my conservative fatherhad taken to giving the black power salute when he venturedinto certain areas of Chicago, usually the West Side. We hadconnections to that side of town through both sides of thefamily, though we spent little time with them. When we wereyoung and occasionally visited my mother's Aunt Evelyn at1918 S. St. Louis, we spent most of our time outside on herporch being rambunctious. I don't think we were a good fitby Georgia A. Dorsey 207

As I Remember Itfor the neighborhood. Our connections through my father were really in-laws ofone of his cousins. I remember them, the Elder family, asbeing very tuned in to the city and its vibrations. Now thesequiet neighborhoods were under threat by angry groups ofyouths and, I suspect, older people as well. It was anothernose/face moment for me, and I didn't quite understand theroots of all the anger and destructive behavior. I had beenbrought up in such a different way and in such a differentenvironment that it would take years for me to understandhow unique my circumstances had been. The routine at home had changed a bit. Now that wesiblings were all older, my parents would leave us alone onSaturdays and take the day for themselves. This usuallymeant that I was left in charge of not only them but also theSaturday chores. I believe my parents meant well by givingme this responsibility and did not foresee the consequences.However, it only served to cement my total authority anddomination of my brothers and sisters, which did little tofoster warm filial relations. Since I was essentially acting in my parents' stead, mysiblings were required to get permission from me to do justabout everything. After a while, my father obviouslyrecognized that something needed to change because he thenstarted giving individual authority to each child. That meantthat someone was in charge of the television and someoneelse was in charge of the refrigerator, etc. But all his actionsdid was create “mini Georgias” who mirrored my totalitarianattitude. If I learned anything at all from this it is that nosibling should be given authority over or responsibility forby Georgia A. Dorsey 208

As I Remember Itanother to such a great extent. It upsets the natural balanceof things. One day my parents came back from one of their Saturdaytrips with the news that they had purchased some newfurniture. I don't remember exactly how they got it home.They could have loaded into the car, because by then myfather was driving a Buick Electra 225, or a “deuce and aquarter” as it was known in the culture. Those cars weremammoth and had a lot of room. Or maybe it was deliveredto the house. I just don't remember. Anyway, I don't thinkthey bought more than a couple of pieces because all I recallare a cream-colored brocade couch and a multi-colored,three-light pole lamp that my mother adored. The lamp wasn't very practical because each light wascontained within a dark blue and red cut-plastic cylinder thatwas supposed to resemble cut glass. It was totally modernby Georgia A. Dorsey 209

As I Remember Itbut almost useless if you wanted to see anything. It wasmore of a “mood lamp”, a popular genre for the '60s buthardly appropriate for our house. However, my mother likedit and that was all there was to it. That lamp was a staple inthe living room for many years and I am not sure whatbecame of it. It would be an interesting mid-centuryfurniture piece in today's world.Every year right after Thanksgiving I began to look forwardto one of the other tasks delegated to me by my parents: theyearly Christmas cards. The responsibility of signing,addressing and mailing the cards had fallen to me after mysister left home. For as long as I could remember beforethen, she had been the one whose distinctive handwritinggraced the front of the envelopes. We had a set list of peoplein the village who received cards from us. The list neverseemed to change unless, of course, someone died and leftno relatives, which rarely happened. We would justcontinue to send the cards addressed “To The WhateverFamily”. Not all of the cards were distributed within thevillage. We also sent cards to our friends and relatives inChicago whom we seldom saw, but wanted to keep in touchwith. After a series of unfortunate events, however, peoplewere either displaced or they moved away to avoid theviolence. In the end, we only had one valid address for ourChicago connections, that of my mother's aunt Evelyn. Istill don't know where the other folks moved to. The summer between my sophomore and junior year inhigh school was one of high drama. Not only was I changingby Georgia A. Dorsey 210

As I Remember Itschools again, but I was being sent to the first integratedschool I'd ever attended. The main high school, or “Campus”as it was called, pulled students from the two feeder schools—one predominately black, the other predominately white—for their junior and senior years. I don't recall any anxietyabout going to school with Caucasians, since at this point myself-confidence and ego could not be deflated by a howitzer.Rather, it was the realization that I would be attendingschool out of my community for the first time that gave mepause. Some of the familiar faces of my childhood would not makeit out of Southeast. In addition to the boys who dropped outand/or got drafted, there was a new element beingintroduced: teenage pregnancy. Unlike today, there were noaccommodations for pregnant students because they wereconsidered outcasts. A pregnancy meant that a girl had nochoice but to drop out, and few ever dropped back in. Of course, I was familiar with Blue Island, the town wherethe school was located, but only as a pass-through placewhen we were on our way to Riverview or some other placein Chicago. Western Avenue, the main street in Blue Island,ran all the way from the southern suburbs to the northern tipof Chicago. It was a major artery for north/south travelbefore the Dan Ryan expressway was built. Even after theexpressway was completed some people still chose to useWestern instead. Blue Island was also the location of St.Francis Hospital, the hospital that had turned my father awayand sent him to the county hospital for my care. But, whilesome students and their parents saw the town and its schoolas a sign of oppression, I merely regarded it as anby Georgia A. Dorsey 211

As I Remember Itinconvenience to my heretofore well-ordered life. Though outright violence had yet to break out in Chicagoduring the summer of 1967, other cities were already aflameor decimated. And Chicago had already shown its hand when,in the summer of 1966, someone had thrown a brick and hitDr. Martin Luther King in the head as he led an open housingmarch through a hostile neighborhood in the city. As acounterpoint to the violence being heaped upon black citizensby white citizens around the nation, new, more militantgroups were being formed in the black community. These groups were not satisfied with the non-violentapproach being taken by the older generation and vowed toget results “by any means necessary”. They carried guns andwore their hair in a style that signified ethnic pride called a“'fro”, short for “Afro”, a hairstyle that espoused letting yourhair be unprocessed and natural. I suppose it was intendedto remind African-Americans of their roots in Africa but,truth be told, by now most of us had so much other ethnicblood in our genes that wearing a “'fro” involved all kinds ofhair preparations to make us look like what we thought weshould look like. It would have been funny if it hadn't beenso sad. And ironic. However, the irony was lost on a lot ofthe boys and some of the girls who would attend Campus thatyear. And things would get a lot worse before there was evena hint of them getting any better. Into this potential powder keg I waltzed, oblivious to theunderlying tensions among those around me. At this point myfocus was on my grades, my involvement in social activitiesand a special young man in the senior class. He was thesecond guy to run the gauntlet for me. He asked my father ifby Georgia A. Dorsey 212

As I Remember Ithe could “see” me, then he put up with my annoying brothersand sisters when he came to call. Determined, he alsowithstood my mother's attempts to discourage him. We wentto dances together and generally enjoyed each others'company. Unfortunately, this relationship was another thatwas undermined by a family who didn't think I was “right”for their son. Though we kept in contact after we bothgraduated and started different lives, we were never quiteable to come together at a moment that was right for both ofus. And that is all I am going to say about that. At Campus they had a formally-designated Director ofStudent Activities, Ms. Dewey. I don't know if there was aMr. Dewey but, if there was, their house must have been abarrel of laughs. I have no idea what her job description hadin it or how she had gone about her duties prior to myarrival; however, by the time I got there it appeared to methat her only job was monitoring what students wore andhow they groomed themselves. The long hair and mini skirtsI mentioned earlier were now the dominant styles of the day. Obviously caught unaware by this phenomena, there hadbeen no standards set about how long was too long or howshort was too short. At the ringing of the class bells, onecould find Ms. Dewey at the bottom of the “up” staircasetrying to gauge the relative impropriety of a girl's skirt asshe ascended. Finally, some arbitrary number of inches wasdetermined to be the accepted one for girls' skirts, andanything shorter would either get the offender sent home tochange or a detention. The fallacy of setting such a standardbecame quite clear when a girl who was much taller than theaverage wore a skirt that was the length of the new standard.by Georgia A. Dorsey 213

As I Remember ItOf course, it was much shorter on her, so it was back to thedrawing board for the mini-skirt police. One fight that had already been conceded by the staff atCampus was that of the woolen socks. Standard gym attirefor girls in the school district had always included white,ankle-length gym socks. But the staff at Southeast had notenforced it and had let us wear our bleached woolen sockswith our gym shoes. I didn't actually know why we wereallowed to continue wearing this combination until Ioverheard one of the gym teachers, a relatively youngwoman, tell another teacher that they should leave us alonebecause that is how we wore them in Robbins. I have no cluewhether she was being supportive or sarcastic, but we got tokeep our socks. I continued my involvement in student activities—gettingelected as junior class secretary, appointed as cluster councilsecretary and once more serving on the student council thatyear. There were football and especially basketball games toattend, as well as after-school affinity clubs. I also had a jobafter school that was part of the anti-poverty program, so Iwas quite busy because my responsibilities at home andchurch did not decrease. This must be when I learned tomulti-task. All this running around required expert skill and timingsince I relied on the school buses and my own foot power toget about. Even though I had gotten my learner's permit theyear before, it was practically useless because there was nocar for me to drive. The only car we had was my father's andhe was not about to entrust his only means of transportationto me, even if he was in the car. The idea of a student havingby Georgia A. Dorsey 214

As I Remember Ithis own automobile was still pretty much restricted to boysand their hot rods or jalopies, and it was a rarity even then. Never one to segregate myself, I made friends easily amongthe white students. To me, we were all just teenagers tryingto figure out where we were going in life. And, because myfamily had exposed me to things outside of black culture, Icould find a common ground with them. I made it mybusiness to learn as many names as I could. This is a practicethat I had started at Kellar, when so many disparate studentshad come together in sixth grade. It is also a practice thatserved me well in my professional life. But, perhaps I was toocozy with this arrangement. I still wonder about itsometimes. Should alarm bells have gone off when one of mynew white acquaintances told me that I was “not like theothers”? My mother's younger sister had moved to Memphis fromMississippi by then. The last time I'd seen her—which wasalso the first time I'd seen her—was when we'd spent thosetwo weeks at my grandmother's house several years back. Inthe future, she would move to her lovely home at 1056Maury, a home that she would occupy for the rest of her life.At that moment, however, she was on the phone with mymother, which was a miracle all by itself. The miracle was that we actually had a telephone becausemy father had stalled and taken whatever measures he couldto prevent it. There had been a phone in the house for ashort while when I was in grade school, but it had been takenout for reasons that I never knew. Whatever catalyst thatresulted in getting this new phone was also unknown to me,but the restrictions about using it were clear: ask forby Georgia A. Dorsey 215

As I Remember Itpermission to use it, only adults can answer it and never butnever give anybody—especially boys—the phone number((312) 389-6818). With rules like that, why bother? Anyway, my Aunt Etherine was complaining to my motherabout the march to support garbage workers that was beingled by Dr. King in Memphis. Apparently my aunt didn't likehim upsetting the status quo. When she hung up, my motherexpressed her disappointment that her sister couldn't see thevalue of Dr. King's work. But my aunt needn't have concernedherself. Within 24 hours he was dead, shot as he stood onthe balcony of the Lorraine Hotel, supposedly getting abreath of fresh air. The reaction in the black community was immediate andpredictable. What hitting Dr. King with a brick had failed toproduce in Chicago a year or so before, killing him did.Stores, businesses, residences and just about anything in thepath of angry people were targets. I'm not sure how long therioting lasted, but it seemed to go on for days. When it wasover, what had been thriving business districts andresidential communities were nothing but charred hulks.The area would never be rebuilt and would deteriorate toslum status. Those who could afford to do so left the areaaltogether, moving to the suburbs or to other neighborhoodsin Chicago. Back at school trouble was also brewing, and itwas becoming increasingly difficult to keep a lid on apotentially explosive situation. The majority of studentsfrom Robbins were not as radical or reactionary as those inChicago. At least not yet. I remained focused on my studies, and one of my mostenjoyable classes was again French. I had the engagingby Georgia A. Dorsey 216

As I Remember ItMadame Dalcé to take my mind off what was going on. Shewas my junior year French teacher at Campus and, eventhough she was American she was more French than someFrenchmen I would encounter later. Mme. Carnes' accenthad been very good, but Mme. Dalcé's was perfect, crisp andupper class. She, like my previous instructor, had lived inFrance for a number of years. There, she had met andmarried a French national. She taught us the intricacies andsubtleties of the language, such as when to know that you arebeing talked down to or insulted. Tidbits like this werecertainly not part of the curriculum, but they are the kinds ofthings that a good instructor will impart to a student. Shecould have made the assumption that none of us would evergo to France, so why bother? But she didn't make thatassumption, and she put everything into those classroomsessions. It was April now. Soon it would be May and the senior classin whose wake I had been traveling since grade school wouldbe gone forever. Those who lasted and made it through theirsenior year were now planning parties, picnics and proms. I,however, was planning my final summer as a high schoolstudent and as a resident at our family home. There was no escaping the effect that the murder of Dr. King had on people near and far. Personally, I didn't know how I felt about his assassination. Of course I was sad and even angry, but I had never seen him as a final hope and savior that apparently so many others had. He was too far removed from my everyday reality, like the president of the country or some other person that you know exists but haveby Georgia A. Dorsey 217

As I Remember It no context for. Having this attitude may have helped me avoid the feeling of hopelessness that seemed to consume so many other people. I was also not political, at least not in the organized-political party sense. I had been advised by my father to judge a person not by political affiliation but by character. He used himself as an example, saying that he had managed to provide for his family during the administrations of both mainstream political parties. His advice has served me well. School had not been out a full month when whatevernegative forces were about found their next target. I wasaware, on some level, of what was going on in nationalpolitics. Some of the younger teachers—obviously againstschool policy—had been invoking the name of EugeneMcCarthy and, to a lesser degree, Robert Kennedy. They weretrying to energize the next wave of new voters who, likemyself, were focused on other things. When the secondKennedy was assassinated, I felt that I knew a little bit moreabout him than I had his brother, but he was still not real tome. What was real was what I saw around me. Another iconhad been slain and nobody seemed to know who was doing itor why. The anger and despair were becoming palpable in thecommunity, though the atmosphere at our house was stilllargely as it always had been. I again had a summer job and was saving money for mysenior expenses. I had put some clothes into lay-a-way atGoldblatts, including a ¾ length black leather coat that myfather vehemently opposed. He didn't prohibit it outright,but he lectured me on the perception that wearing such anby Georgia A. Dorsey 218

As I Remember Itarticle of clothing would give. According to my father, onlyfemale gang members trying to protect themselves in a knifefight or other women of disrepute wore leather, especiallyblack leather. But that stereotype was changing and a leathercoat was becoming a fashion statement for the young andhip. Perhaps feeling my impending freedom from parentalrule, I ignored him and bought the coat anyway. I wasn't alittle girl anymore. Going in the other direction, I chose abland, pinstriped three-piece suit for my graduation picture.At that point I had not fully embraced the “less is more”concept, a failing I regretted when I saw the proofs. Senior class pictures are taken in the summer, at least theywere then. Since this was my last photo as a high schoolstudent, I wanted to make a statement. Something hadhappened to my regular hairdresser and another womanlocated not too far from my house was recommended to me.She was not known to my family as the other lady had beenbut, to a teenager seeking to break ties with all things relatedto family, that was a plus. I informed the new hairdresserthat I needed a nice hairdo for my graduation picture. I alsoinformed her that I wanted a streak of red put in. She did as I asked, but she left the solution on too long andI wound up with a bright orange patch that ran from thefront to the back of the right side of my hair. Somehow Iconvinced myself that it wasn't as bad as it looked, paid thelady and started home. However, when I saw the look onMiss Fritz's face as I walked past her house, I knew that ithad to be worse than I thought. It was. My mother was sohorrified that she refused to speak to me and told my siblingsto ignore me as well. This was a new tactic but it was anby Georgia A. Dorsey 219

As I Remember Iteffective one. I don't recall my father's reaction but I amsure it wasn't positive. There was no time to undo thedamage and my graduation picture shows me smilingbeneath a hairdo that only a skunk could appreciate, attireduncomfortably in my matronly-looking suit.by Georgia A. Dorsey 220

As I Remember Iti FINAL LAPTHE DAY FINALLY ARRIVED WHEN I could enter the hallsas a senior. To my surprise, it didn't feel any different.Nothing had really changed except that I had aged threemonths. That, and the fact that I had a patch of orange hairthat was beginning to grow out. There was no feeling ofsuperiority or supremacy over the incoming junior class. Atthat point I think all I wanted was to get the year over withso that I could move on to other things. However, it was notexactly clear at that point which other thing I would bemoving to. The idea of attending a four-year college was still relativelynew to most students from Robbins. Although there hadalways been residents who were college graduates, like theby Georgia A. Dorsey 221

As I Remember Itteachers, doctors, dentist and pharmacists, college was notlooked upon as a requirement for financial success. Womenwho wanted to work after high school usually could obtainpositions with the skills they had learned there. However, if more education was required, they most oftenwent to a secretarial school or, to a lesser extent, to a juniorcollege to learn the additional skills. A complete collegedegree was not necessary for the kinds of jobs that wereavailable to most women at that time, especially blackwomen. If a male wanted to enter the work force, not even ahigh school diploma was required to earn a decent salary.They could go work in the steel mills or at the auto plants.Others went into the construction trades, like one of mybrothers-in-law. Sometime within the previous few years the idea of goingaway to college had become a popular option, and morestudents from Robbins were choosing this path. As moreopportunities were being made available to the blackcommunity, more and better skills were also being required.Students from previous graduating classes had entered suchinstitutions as Southern Illinois University, the University ofIllinois, Knox College and Western Illinois University. Othershad chosen to enter one of the traditional black college likeTennessee State University or Grambling A&M, as it wasknown then. Grambling came across my radar initially because mybiology teacher at Southeast had attended there and talkedabout it a lot. But it really got my attention when I saw theGrambling marching band in the Macy's Thanksgiving paradedoing their signature steps while playing a popular songby Georgia A. Dorsey 222

As I Remember Itknown as “The Horse”. As a marching band member at thetime, I was sold. That was probably not the best reason tochoose a college and, for reasons that are lost to me now,Grambling and its marching band fell by the wayside.However, the idea of attending a black college hadgerminated. I was back in a leadership position, this time as vice-president of the senior class. Looking back, this wasprobably a pretty significant achievement, but I didn't thinkthere was anything special about it. I was a cog in a well-oiled machine as I saw it then. Parts of that machine were the younger Caucasian teachers,who seemed to be using their access to black students assome sort of cultural awareness exchange. It was notuncommon for one of them in particular to ask about ourperception of the white students or white people in general.She wanted to know about our usage of the language and thereasons behind it. I'm not sure she ever got a straightanswer or even why she was asking the questions, but Iguessed later that she may have been working on anadvanced degree and we were part of her research. Along with the teachers who were showing their favoritismtoward McCarthy were the ones who were decidedly not.One of these, my government teacher, was openly racist andsaid some things that would definitely get him fired todayand that should have gotten him fired back then. I will notrepeat what he said nor say any more about him except thathe was providing kindling for a coming fire. As the year wore on I fell into a rhythm. I was workingafter school again, this time at a local cleaners and I hated it.by Georgia A. Dorsey 223

As I Remember ItThe owner had come to my father and asked if he would letme work for him. I wish my father had said no. I lookedforward to the money but not to going to that dreary place,where they habitually lost or ruined people's clothing andmade me lie about it. It was a look at a side of humanity thatI could have done without. But I had to pay for my senioryear expenses so I stayed on. I needed to pay for mygraduation and prom dresses and any other activities thatsurrounded those events. I definitely wanted a prom dressthat would make a statement after my senior picture fiasco.by Georgia A. Dorsey 224

As I Remember It There were breakthroughs in society involving African-Americans that could not be ignored. We were appearing ontelevision with increasing regularity and frequency. Starsand future stars like Bill Cosby and Nichelle Nichols werepart of ensemble casts of popular television shows. And thefirst ever television show led by an African-American womanin a role that wasn't a stereotype debuted in 1968: Julia,starring Diahann Carroll. Highly-rated and popular, the showwas about the lives of Julia—a widowed nurse—her young sonby Georgia A. Dorsey 225

As I Remember Itand the doctor she worked for. It was a welcome change fromthe character of Prissy in Gone With The Wind or anycharacter that Louise Beavers ever played. In one episodethe character Julia is seen attending an event wearing aformal dress that would become known as “The Julia Dress”.It was of the empire style, with an embroidered bodice andhigh collar. The organza skirt flowed in an A-line from theempire waist to the floor. The sheer sleeves ballooned fromthe upper arms, then tapered to a fitted cuff at the wrist. Thedress was secured at the back by a series of buttons coveredwith the same embroidered fabric as the bodice. I fell in lovewith it. Luckily for me, the design had become so popular that high-end department stores were going to carry a version for theupcoming prom season. As soon as I heard this, I got on thebus and went downtown to Marshall Field's and put one onlay-a-way. The dress cost $50.00 dollars, or about $350.00in 2016 dollars. It was the most I had ever spent on agarment, but I didn't care. Now all I needed was a date. After he graduated the yearbefore and went on to college, I didn't see the young manwho had once been my boyfriend anymore. I don't think hewould have been inclined to come to a high school prom,anyway, but there were few prospects among the boys in myclass. So many had dropped out that it seemed I might haveto go to the prom with a boy from the junior class. Some ofthe girls were dating boys from different high schools whowould be their escorts, so they didn't have to go through thenerve-wracking process of waiting to be asked to the prom.Finally, either of his own volition or under pressure fromby Georgia A. Dorsey 226

As I Remember Itfriends, a boy that I had known since grade school asked meto the prom. Richard P. had not been on my radar screen atall because he was one of the more quiet and inconspicuousboys of our class. But I would come to see him in a new light. Time had been running out for me to make a final selectionof the college I would attend. In the end, I would be astudent at Central State University in Wilberforce Ohio. Ithink my father felt comfortable with Ohio because of ourvisits as a family to the state fairs there. I knew more aboutupper and lower Sandusky than I knew about parts of myown state. There was even a picture taken of me one yearpointing to the world's largest watermelon, or something. Ialso think he was glad that I was going to a predominatelyblack school, though he never actually said that to me. I andanother girl from my graduating class who had also beenaccepted at CSU arranged to be roommates. At this point, things were falling into place. Illinois Bell hadstarted an apprentice program that I had been accepted into.Each summer, beginning with the one after my senior year, Iwould work for them either as an operator or in the businessoffice. I would also be allowed to work during Christmasbreak. This was wonderful news. The Illinois Bell office that Iwould be working at was located in Blue Island, so I couldtake the bus there. If all went well, the next few years wouldestablish a firm foundation for me to build upon. I was hearing, mostly from my siblings, about the increasingdiscipline problems that were cropping up at their schools.There was a new defiance in the students that mirrored someof what they were seeing and hearing around the country. Ilistened to what was being said, but I can't say I gave it muchby Georgia A. Dorsey 227

As I Remember Itcredence. I was not seeing any such activity at my school, somaybe the ones acting up were purely an anomaly. Then, theaforementioned government teacher went too far once again,and a group of black students at Campus school planned awalk-out to demonstrate their anger about what they saw asa set of unaddressed grievances. As a class officer, I was asked to support thisunauthorized leaving of the school campus, something that Ihad vowed I would never do after that incident with the car.Besides, they were just going across the street to “The Grill”the local hangout that sold burgers, fries and pink lemonadeto the students. The action seemed rather pointless to me, soI went to class instead. Some students never forgave me,even though I was by far not the only black student whochose to go to class instead of the burger joint. Years later, atour ten year class reunion, one of the chief organizers of thewalk-out confronted me because we had not listed the walk-out in our commemorative booklet. It boggles the mind. My senior year did have its lighter moments. For somereason I decided to try and take shop class during my finalsemester. Nobody had ever told me that I couldn't, and itlooked interesting. This created quite a stir. I apparentlywas the first female who'd tried to enroll in shop class.Unlike other individuals, including one of the black teacherswho was suing a Blue Island landlord because she was deniedan apartment, I wasn't trying to prove a point. I just thoughtit would be cool to be around all those males. Needless tosay, they did not let me enroll. They simply ignored myrequest. Today such action would be unthinkable, but at thattime the decision was deemed a reasonable one.by Georgia A. Dorsey 228

As I Remember It Richard P., quite handsome in his tuxedo, I and two othercouples were a group the night of the prom. I wore my Juliadress and basked in the compliments that came my way.After the usual rounds of pictures taken by all the parents,we arrived at the prom only to find that, horrors, some othergirl was also wearing my dress! Some girl from Blue Islandwho, incidentally, was all wrong for the dress, had had thenerve to exercise her freedom to shop and buy what shewanted with her money! Truth be told, she was probablymore surprised that I had the dress, given its cost. Once Iverified that no one else present that night had on my dress,my group and I stayed only long enough to wave to a fewfriends, dance a few dances and have our picture taken by thephotographer. We were headed—as were a lot of fellow prom-goers wesubsequently found out—to the Empire Room, an elegantsupper club inside the Palmer House Hotel, to experience theby Georgia A. Dorsey 229

As I Remember Itdulcet tones of Miss Nancy Wilson. So many of us were therethat she actually stopped the show at one point andwelcomed us. That was too cool. When we left the EmpireRoom we made our way over to Old Town, a hip and trendyplace of clothing boutiques, restaurants, head shops, livemusic venues and other entertainments. Since we weredressed in prom clothes, we really stood out as tourists, butit was fun nonetheless. There was a picnic the next day, but Idon't really remember much about it. My fun had occurredthe night before. Earlier in the year I had been invited to participate in the VAG cotillion that would be held during the summer. The committee had selected girls they deemed acceptable to be presented. Since my former fourth grade teacher was still pretty much running the group, I was not surprised to receive the invitation. But it was not to be. My father did not want to be part of it and I could not do it without him. Disappointed, I reluctantly submitted my regrets, even though some women from the committee had been brave enough to approach him and argue in my favor. A number of girls from my class did debut that year, however, and they tell me that they had a wonderful time. The only thing left to do was send out the announcement ofmy graduation. Without a doubt, family would be first to beinvited. I don't recall exactly how many announcements I wasallotted, but my guests on my big day were my parents, mysister Bernadine and her husband Charles, and my sisterMinnie and her male companion who would later become herby Georgia A. Dorsey 230

As I Remember Ithusband. Walking across the stage to receive my diplomameant a lot to me, but seeing those six people waiting for meafterwards meant much more. We took a picture that daythat captured the joy that was felt all around. Many thingshad changed in the 18 years since my birth, but one thingthat had not was family.by Georgia A. Dorsey 231

As I Remember It EPILOGUEI DECIDED TO WRITE ABOUT this part of my life—the first18 years—because little of the world that I described within isleft. Not long after my graduation from high school, thechanges sought by others would be implemented. My belovedLincoln school, where all my young siblings and I had beensent to and watched over by my mother, was turned into agovernment building containing Head Start, offices for theCommunity Economic Development Association and countymedical facilities. Students and teachers were disbursed tovarious locations, along with the familiarity and coziness thatthe school had provided. Those who cried for more integration of the high schoolsgot their wish, but I don't think it was what they or anybodyelse in town expected. Instead of bringing more whitestudents to Southeast, the administration closed it as a highschool and turned it into an alternative school. Studentsfrom Robbins were then bused to schools in the all-whitecommunities that surrounded Robbins. The beautiful andby Georgia A. Dorsey 232

As I Remember Itnurturing incubator of learning was no more. Relationshipsbetween teachers and students were broken. These students,which included my youngest three siblings, were met withopen hate and hostility at the schools they now attended.Instead of high school being the wonderful place that it hadbeen for me, it was the exact opposite for them. And nobodyhad prepared them for it. More people were doing their shopping out of the village,so the old general stores like Regets and Mickey's would soonbe gone. The Rexall drugstore would become a mere shadowof what it had been and, with the new appeal of chain fastfood places and money to patronize them, businesses likeMary's Diner and Chan's barbecue would go, too. TheLattings moved most of their horse operations to a place withmore open land, and the view from the old Southeast schoolchanged from horses roaming freely to a newly-builtresidence for teenage girls. Roads were widened and 139th Street became a busythoroughfare where it had been just a place for locals. Nownew people, strange people, could drive through on recentlypaved roads and cluck their teeth at what they didn'tunderstand. The Great Hope Baptist Church that I grew up in, with itswell-worn seats and familiarity, was soon gone, too. A new,larger church would be built to take its place. Though it waslarger and more modern, I don't ever remember the churchbeing so full that there was standing room only, like at theold church. Unless somebody has died, that is. There were new people in control now, and they had aby Georgia A. Dorsey 233

As I Remember Itvision for the town that was different and, hopefully, better.Most of my generation chose to make our homes outside ofthe village in which we grew up. Though a lot of us still hadlocal ties, either through church affiliations or parents, wecould see that there was no real place for us there, so wemoved on. A few of us did stay, perhaps longer than weshould have, to try and have a say in the changes. It was notto be. However, our love for the town and the way that wegrew up is still intact, and as long as there is breath in any ofour bodies, this part of our town's history will remain alive.by Georgia A. Dorsey 234

As I Remember It CLOSING THOUGHTSI HAVE BEEN THE BENEFICIARY of advice from wonderfulmentors and people who seemingly appeared in my life atjust the right moment. As a strong believer in God, I do notthink any of it was an accident. Over the years theseindividuals—my angels—have often shared wise words for meto live by. I cannot possibly recount all of their gifts to me inthis book, but I would like to pass on to the reader a few thathave been especially helpful to me. I hope you find value inthem as well. Direct quotes are so noted. • “Start out like you can hold out” – Georgia Mae Dorsey (Life is not a sprint but a marathon. Pace yourself) • Live in the time in which you were born—E. Beale, Jr.by Georgia A. Dorsey 235

As I Remember It (Each generation's experiences will be different, and one will be most comfortable among those of shared experiences)• “When you've got your hand in the lion's mouth, you got to work it out easy”—Georgia Mae Dorsey (When you find yourself in precarious circumstances, don't make any quick decisions. Think it through)• Don't be embarrassed if you make a mistake. Own it, apologize, make amends and move on. - Dorothy Dixon (self explanatory)• Use the word “friend” sparingly. What you most likely have are acquaintances—Rev. Jesse Dorsey (True friends that one can really count on are rare in life)• “Never choose someone who will take away your smile”-Great Aunt Idella Malone (Pick a mate with whom you can maintain a positive disposition)• “You can't talk sense to everybody; sometimes you have to take them in the alley and whip their ass”- Georgia Mae Dorsey (self explanatory)by Georgia A. Dorsey 236

As I Remember Itby Georgia A. Dorsey 237

As I Remember Itby Georgia A. Dorsey 238