White
If you are from the South, this entry may make sense to you. If you are from the North or West or Midwest, you may wind up scratching your head. Nonetheless: I was born in 1952 in New Orleans, Louisiana. I don’t remember playing with any black kids. In 1957 we moved to Metaire, a suburb of New Orleans. Sociologists would say we were part of “white flight”, white families moving out of the city to live in all-white neighborhoods (and to be away from Negroes). I am 67 now, so none of my early memories seem crystal clear. My exposure to black people, for many years, was limited to our maids, a succession of black ladies who came once a week. We were strictly middle class, but most families on our block had a maid. They were usually paid $5 a day, plus car fare (they took the bus that dropped them off at Veterans Highway and the entrance to our subdivision, called Bissonet Plaza). They worked from about 8 to 5. I remember the maids did the ironing. I th