by Craig Barnes
In 1952, when I was 16, my father was stationed in the Air Force in London. I was dating a general's daughter. I can still remember her kisses. They were luscious and the best experience to that point of my young life. Then one night in early September, just after a new American high school opened, I received a call from the girl's father, the general.
"Hello, Craig, it's General Kessinger. I understand you are planning a dance for the high school students at the American Teen Club,"
"Yes, sir." I said, "I am working on it." I had never had a call from a general before.
"This coming Saturday night?"
"I don't suppose you will be allowing Negras to come to that dance, will you?"
There was a long pause at my end.
"Yes, sir," I finally said. "They are in school too. It would be only fair."
"It is not our custom to mix the races," he said, "not socially."
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