Its a Shame to Be a Negro (Chapter 6, page 1 of 7)


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Chapter 6

Suburb I walked in this suburban neighborhood late in the afternoon, looking for the house of one of the judges of the contest who was a conductor. As I was walking on the street, I kept turning around to watch out for cops. Suddenly I saw one just turning the corner on another street. I jumped behind a big garbage can and hid until the patrol car disappeared in the dark.

At that time I knew I was taking a big risk, but I wasn't thinking about what the consequences would be. My mind was deeply made up.

I walked up to the house carrying my violin. I composed myself before ringing the doorbell. Here she was, a very classic, rich white woman in her early fifties wearing a white dressing gown and holding a glass of wine.

It seemed like she was waiting for her date that night and probably thought I was he or she. She opened the door smiling, but after she saw me, it looked like she was about to have a heart attack. She looked at me very confused.

She was speechless. She maybe was wondering what the hell a black man was doing on her porch at that time of the day ringing her doorbell, or maybe she was wondering how the hell I got her home address. She probably thought that I was a stalker. "Please don't call the cops. I am a violinist!" I beseeched her before she called the cops, which I knew she would do.

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