◆ SpookStack

. q -4 He said that it wasn't so bad in Washington, D.C. He was the guest of the Fronch Ambassador, who took him out to supper and put him aboard the Grey- hounl Bus for Richmond. "I took the seat of my choice," he recalled, “and talked for a time to the friendly white man beside me. But at the border of Virginia the driver stopped and ordered me to the back with the other Blacks. They knew where to sit. But I did too. I said 'O.K.' and wen back." This was the beginning of a series of adventures for him: Richnuond, Atlanta, Birmingham, New Orleans, Houston, Los Angeles. I said to my friend, the Judse, "Bet what about the Mississippi River? The Crand Canyon? The Painted Desert? The Golden Gate?) He was a bit vague about these. Other events seem to have becn more vivid. , In Richnond, in the middle of the nisht, he felt cold and followed other passengers from the front of the bus to get a cup of coffee. “A Negro lady pulled at ms sleeve as I got up," he said, "and whispered: ‘You're crazy! You can't do that?’ She was right. I couldn't.'' People in the back of the bus tended to carry thcir own warming fluids: whisky appeared from several inside pockets, and he wes offered some. Humanity from any source is warm- ing. In New Orlcans he got into a taxi, driven by a white man, aud asked to be taken to Tulane University. Tulane?" seid the driver; "You must mean Dillard." But he insisted; and, after an argument, was driven there and deposited opposite the sate. “As I went in to deliver my lecture, I saw the driver sitting there, watching to sce what would happen te me." Appreachinz Los Angeles, he sat in the rear cf the bus and played peek-a- boo through: hig laced finpers with a little blonde girl up the aisle, bered by the ride, whose mother refused te let her come back to see him. In the early morning, adventuring back while her mother slept, she climbed inte his lap and was discovered after some time by a chasrened parent, happily aslecp. “But she was a nice Lady," the Judge said. "At the Los Angcles depot she said, ‘I can't talk to you now, but won't you come to my house for Qit ero tant War keh Cty a te he addr area a3 aaa he ress. As the Judee showed me his memory-book I saw peece after pare of brier, stened notes from friends met all over the world: Tulane, a Quaker Seminar in Denmark, sociolcnists at many great American universitics, and one of the daughters of Cnic£ Justice Yarren. 1 cauld feci how he treasures these contacts. ne analyanes the Black-Fiilte problem objectively. "Ihis will be solved in the U.S.," he esys, "by in- fluences Frem the cutside, Cidef amon these is the shame Amcricans are bepinning to feel an they pet acquainted with the world and witit idcas different from thetr own." Meanshile, im one world this man sits in the lonely eminence of the Suprema Hench, deciding the majer criminal and civil cascs of a netion. In another world he sits in the back ef a tus. Every country in French-speaking Africa is what we would enll a one-party stare, That is, there is no {ermal opposition party as we know it. Thia has led us to ¢on- demn these stares as. undemecratic and even totalitarian. I think this is a serious ptetate, Lt avounts to puttsnus on political blinters and refusing to recopnize tit these states are confronted with what are probably the most friphbtening prokiems ever liie beture groups of human beines. A deseripticn ef these problens ig vell beyond the sevpe of this paper, but LT keep Rearing the crv of a citizen of one of these