I grew up in a segregated society, of course. The story that sticks most in my mind and it's just as vivid today as it was all those years ago. I was probably 10 years old. All five of us, my dad and my mom and my three sisters and I were in our pickup truck going to Lufkin. We stopped at the service station to get gasoline for the truck. A little girl about my age, white girl, came out to ask my daddy how much gas he wanted and he told her and she asked him something else. I don't remember what the question was, but he said, yes, ma'am. And I looked at him and I looked at her and I didn't say anything. When she left, I asked him, why did you say yes, ma'am to her with that kind of questioning in my mind? And he said, because I'm supposed to, I said, why? He says, well, because that's the way it is. I said, why? He said, because she's white. And I thought, oh my goodness, I have never been the same since that day. Something happened to me on the inside. I don't know what it is. I know what it was then, but I became quite defiant in my spirit.