Walter P. (Andy) Anderson, Jr.

I was born in 1948 to middle-class parents in Oakdale, Louisiana, on the northern edge of the Acadian or Cajun country (see Map 1.1). Oakdale was the largest town in Allen Parish and the only one incorporated as a city. Cajun names like Soileau (swal’low) and Fontenot (fon’ta no) were more common than Smith or Jones. Some of the Cajun kids had to learn to speak English when they started school, while some of the rural kids had to learn to use flush toilets. Farmers grew rice in the South and sugar cane in the Southeast. The local economy depended on small cattle farms, a family-owned sawmill, and the chemical plant where Dad worked as a chemical engineer. We moved away in 1961 when he was transferred to Pensacola, Florida.

Chapter 1 · Family · p. 1

I don’t remember ever seeing a Colored doctor or attorney, and I doubt there were any in Oakdale. Our doctor and dentist treated Colored people, but I never saw their Colored patients because we entered separate waiting rooms through different doors. I knew that Colored doctors and attorneys existed in big cities, although I assumed that the best professionals were White people. There were Colored schoolteachers in Oakdale, but I had no way of knowing who they were because they taught Black kids only in segregated schools.

Chapter 1 · Oakdale · p. 9

The adults I knew seemed to accept legal segregation but did not advocate it. Some said legal segregation would disappear when more Colored people climbed the economic ladder as generations of immigrants had done. However, those same White people seem to think that members of both races would always want a degree of social separation. I knew only one White adult who talked openly about the unfairness of segregation. I liked him and felt challenged by what he said, but I knew that many people thought his ideas were unrealistic or even dangerous. I gradually stopped using the N word as I learned how it felt to Colored people, mostly from listening to the national news on television.

Chapter 1 · Oakdale · p. 13

Colored people could go to the Delta, and many did, especially on Saturday afternoons. They entered through a set of double doors to the left of the main ticket window and bought their tickets inside through a smaller window on the left side wall. They could purchase concessions, I think, through an adjacent window before walking upstairs to the balcony. White people purchased tickets through the main ticket window and then entered through a set of identical double doors to the right. Long ticket lines queued in opposite directions outside. I envied people in the Colored line when it rained because part of their line was inside the theater. When our line was long, I had time to look for people I knew in the Colored line. I remember seeing Weezie and her husband a couple of times and waving at them (without realizing the unfairness of separate lines and seating). However, I rarely saw Colored people I recognized because I knew so few. Our concession stand took up much of the lobby. The smelly restrooms on the ground floor were for White people. I assumed Colored people had their own somewhere upstairs. I knew that Colored people couldn’t use our restrooms, but I don’t remember wondering why.

Chapter 1 · Oakdale · p. 16

Every church in town was segregated. Colored people attended churches in the Colored Quarters. I remember assuming that all churches in the South were officially segregated, and I heard that most in the North were segregated in practice. I figured that legal segregation in the South had something to do with slaves and the Civil War, and I heard that segregation in the North was evidence that people of different races wanted a degree of social separation. We didn’t study segregation in school, so I must have picked up what I knew from listening to adults and from watching newsreel footage at the theater. I do not remember talking about segregated churches or segregation of anything else, for that matter, with the kids I knew.

Chapter 1 · Oakdale · p. 18

Businesses that served both White people and Colored people had separate restrooms, as required by law. For example, many older rural gas stations had a pair of similar Courthouses marked “White” and “Colored,” respectively. Hank and I usually went in the woods behind these stations, especially during the summer when the outhouses were hot and smelly and full of flies. If a station had one indoor restroom and an outhouse, the indoor restroom was marked ‘White’ or ‘White Only’. I figured Colored boys did what Hank and I did when our only other choice was an outhouse. If a station had two indoor restrooms, they were marked White Women and White Men. If there were three indoor restrooms, one was labeled Colored. Although a few modern stations had four clean restrooms, many restrooms were as dirty as any outhouse, especially those for Colored people. I felt sorry for women of both races because they had to sit down.

Chapter 1 · Oakdale · p. 20

White people and Colored people drank from separate outdoor water fountains. Drinking fountains marked “White” and “Colored” were often located near each other on the same water line. The fountain usually worked, although it didn’t always have much pressure. Newer fountains were electric, while older ones were made of porcelain and mounted lower to the ground. Electric fountains served ice water if their compressors were working. We could usually tell which fountains were ours without having to read the signs. If only one fountain was working, it was usually ours. If one fountain was electric, it was always ours, which was great when it worked and when we were tall enough to reach it. When both fountains were made of porcelain, and both were working, ours was usually cleaner and had higher water pressure. I don’t remember ever seeing two electric fountains. Because there were more White people than Colored people in town, we sometimes had to stand in line at our fountain when no one was using the Colored one a few feet away.

Chapter 1 · Oakdale · p. 22