My Sons Are Growing Up Racists By Robert Hilldrup Vol. 1, No. 1, 1978, p. 7 All my life, I’ve heard it said that the difference between us whites, South and North, is that the Southerner loved Blacks as individuals,

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Dooty’s Last Stand By Jerry Bledsoe Vol. 1, No. 2, 1978, pp. 13-15 She had thought this would be the day, and all morning Luemer Plumley, whom her sisters call Dooty, sat on the porch watching and waiting. She watched

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Bending With the Wind: A Lesson in Survival By Al Burt Vol. 1, No. 4, 1979, pp. 14-16 In his 72 years. Virgil D. Hawkins has learned something about the ways to fight and to survive and sometimes to succeed.

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The Wallace Phenomenon By Dale Russakoff Vol. 1, No. 5, 1979, pp. 7-9 Perhaps a rosy-cheeked, 18-year-old beauty said it best when she pushed toward the center of attention at “George Wallace Appreciation Day” in Montgomery recently. The crowd around

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Montgomery Widows: A Struggle to Survive By Roxie Hughes Vol. 1, No. 5, 1979, pp. 15-17 Florence, who prefers not to be otherwise identified, lives in the same small white house east of downtown Montgomery where she was born some

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Problems of Pain By June Adamson Vol. 1, No. 6, 1979, pp. 17-18 The X-rays had been taken and I lay on the emergency room cot in the curtained cubicle waiting for the doctor to see whether I had any

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Half Pints and Rain Barrels: Hunger in Alabama By Wayne Greenhaw Vol. 2, No. 7, 1980, pp. 17-19 A dark-skinned woman with a sharp straight nose, aged twisted lips,and legs slightly bigger around than a half dollar, Annie Bell Brown

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The South Remembered By John Marquerd Vol. 2, No. 8, 1980, pp. 9-10 This is a superficial report. How could it be otherwise, based as it is on a short visit to the South last March. In fact, I have

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Woodcutters Organize: Echoes of Change in the South’s Backwoods By Wayne Greenhaw Vol. 3, No. 1, 1980, pp. 16-19, 22 The tall huskily-built Black man opened his mouth and let his baritone voice ring out through the small plain rectangular

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Aaron Henry from Clarksdale By Worth Long Vol. 5, No. 5, 1983, pp. 9-12 This is Aaron Henry and I’m from Clarksdale, have always lived here. Born outside of the city limits on a plantation called Flowers’ Brothers. It’s still

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