The Seventies- The Death of Old Dixie, A Story of Forbidden Love

By James F. Hunt

This novel of fiction might be considered one of the most controversial books ever written. Some readers may find it offensive. That was not my intent when writing it. I attempted to tell the story as I lived it during my forty years as an educator. My experience teaching and coaching both black and white students gave me the opportunity to see, listen, learn and understand why our society acts or reacts as it does. The seventies was a volatile decade of change like no other in the history of America. The Vietnam War was still raging, and protests erupted everywhere. The fight against bigotry and racial discrimination was a major concern in Washington D.C. The Federal Government enacted legislation in an attempt to end racial discrimination and segregation in the “Old South.” I was coaching and teaching the first year of total integration of the public schools. I watched with great apprehension as the first bus rolled in bringing black students to the previously all white school. Neither whites nor blacks knew what to expect. Years later, I was the principal of a totally integrated school. Although this is a book of fiction, almost everything that is written in the book came from my vast experiences gained while working with black and white students and teachers. Coming from the Deep South, I was raised in a society that held deep convictions about the black race and the supremacy of the white race. It was deep rooted in the south. While teaching and supervising, I realized that almost everything whites believed about the black race was either false or vastly exaggerated. The most prevalent misgiving was that blacks are not intelligent enough to receive an education equal to whites; further, that integration will never succeed because most whites will never accept blacks as equals.
This novel takes place during that turbulent decade of the seventies and chronicles the first few years of integration and the problems and concerns that were faced. It is a story about a coach and a football team that laid aside their differences and learned to respect and love each other as they tried to achieve a goal. It is the story of a gifted white quarterback, at the top of everyone’s recruiting list, who befriended a gifted black student and his brilliant and beautiful twin sister. The friendship soon turned to forbidden love. It reveals that true love transcends all social, racial, cultural, and ethnic barriers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James F. Hunt
• Release date: Feb 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370214853

James F. Hunt

James F. Hunt holds a Masters Plus Thirty in education administration and supervision from SLU in Hammond, Louisiana. He has served the public all his adult life as a teacher, coach, principal and supervisor. He was elected to the parish governing body for twenty-four consecutive years, serving as president his last seventeen years. James counseled and taught Bible study to parish and state prisoners for thirty years. After retirement from the school board, he built Oak Lake Golf Course and manages it. He began writing after retirement and has written six novels and one children’s book. Book eight will soon be released. James and his wife, Ginger, live in Clinton, Louisiana. Although they are in their seventies, there is no consideration of retirement. Novels written by James F. Hunt A four part series titled, Providence and Hard Work, The Story of Caleb Morgan Book two, You Shall Know the Truth Book three, The Truth Shall Set You Free Book four, In His Time Book five, A Perilous Journey of Destiny Book six, Pedro the Donkey, His Quest for Love and Acceptance (a children’s book) Book seven, The Seventies, The Demise of Old Dixie. Book eight, a Christmas story soon to be released.

Book preview

THE SEVENTIES

THE DEATH OF OLD DIXIE-

A Story of Forbidden Love

A Novel by

JAMES F. HUNT

Copyright 2016 by James F. Hunt applied for from Library of Congress

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to every student, teacher, principal, parent, support staff, school board member, supervisor and superintendent that were involved in the first years of total integration of the public schools in the south. Their commitment to public education and the advancements of all students is to be commended. Knowledge is the vehicle of progress that changes lives and makes the impossible possible.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I am deeply indebted to the following people: Andy Ash, Karen M. Breeden, and Ginger A. Hunt who gave unselfishly of their time in the editing of the book; Dawn Taylor, for her many hours of assistance solving problems and formatting the book; with much gratitude I want to thank Donald Phares, an Army officer who served honorably in the Vietnam War. His firsthand experience about the war, the conditions during the war, the Vietnamese people, and the search and destroy method employed by the American troops was invaluable to the authenticity of the war and the conditions of the war.

Synopsis

In 1970 the Viet Nam War was still dragging on. Most Americans were disgruntled with the lack of success as the death toll continued to mount. It was a tumultuous time in America. To add to the frustration, forced integration of the public schools by Federal Judges was taking place all over the south. In August of 1970, the first bus pulled up to the all white Lincoln High School in North Louisiana with black students. There was fear and apprehension about what might happen. However, with a strong principal and a successful coach, everything that was feared never came to pass. The successful football team from Lincoln High was strengthened immensely by the black athletes that came from the black school. The white parents refused to accept integration, and immediately began to make plans for a private school, although there had been no trouble at Lincoln High.

Max Martin, a white boy, was considered to be the best quarterback in the nation. Paul Jones came from the black school and he was the best running back in the nation. They became close friends. Paul had a twin sister, April. They were both so light they could have passed for white. April was tall, had a perfect figure, and was absolutely gorgeous. Very soon, Max and April’s friendship turned to forbidden love. They planned to keep their love a secret until after graduation and then leave the south and get married. April’s love for Max was so strong she felt that a mixed marriage would destroy Max’s future. She left Lincoln and went to live with her grandparents near Chicago. Max’s love was so strong for her, he vowed that he would marry her someday. He had no intention of losing her.

ABOUT THE BOOK

This novel of fiction might be considered one of the most controversial books ever written. Some readers may find it offensive. That was not my intent when writing it. I attempted to tell the story as I lived it during my forty years as an educator. My experience teaching and coaching both black and white students gave me the opportunity to see, listen, learn and understand why our society acts or reacts as it does. The seventies was a volatile decade of change like no other in the history of America. The Vietnam War was still raging, and protests erupted everywhere. The fight against bigotry and racial discrimination was a major concern in Washington D.C. The Federal Government enacted legislation in an attempt to end racial discrimination and segregation in the Old South. I was coaching and teaching the first year of total integration of the public schools. I watched with great apprehension as the first bus rolled in bringing black students to the previously all white school. Neither whites nor blacks knew what to expect. Years later, I was the principal of a totally integrated school. Although this is a book of fiction, almost everything that is written in the book came from my vast experiences gained while working with black and white students and teachers. Coming from the Deep South, I was raised in a society that held deep convictions about the black race and the supremacy of the white race. It was deep rooted in the south. While teaching and supervising, I realized that almost everything whites believed about the black race was either false or vastly exaggerated. The most prevalent misgiving was that blacks are not intelligent enough to receive an education equal to whites; further, that integration will never succeed because most whites will never accept blacks as equals.

This novel takes place during that turbulent decade of the seventies and chronicles the first few years of integration and the problems and concerns that were faced. It is a story about a coach and a football team that laid aside their differences and learned to respect and love each other as they tried to achieve a goal. It is the story of a gifted white quarterback, at the top of everyone’s recruiting list, who befriended a gifted black student and his brilliant and beautiful twin sister. The friendship soon turned to forbidden love. It reveals that true love transcends all social, racial, cultural, and ethnic barriers.

CHAPTER 1

Wednesday, August 10th, 1970. Dr. Clyde Young, Superintendent of Lee Parish School System walked into Lincoln High School and proceeded to the principal’s office. He wore a grim look. Cindy Miller, the principal’s secretary looked up at him, smiled, and said, Good morning, Dr. Young. Dr. Shelby is expecting you. Go right in. Dr. Walter Shelby was a professor at Louisiana Tech for many years before being persuaded to return home to accept the principal’s position at Lincoln High School five years earlier.

Dr. Young opened the door and walked into the office. The two men shook hands and exchanged greetings. Both seemed deeply concerned. They sat down and Dr. Young began, We received the court order we were expecting late yesterday afternoon. I called the board president and board members last night. The consensus was that we have no choice in the matter. None of them wanted to face contempt of court charges. We need to start making preparations for the integration of the parish schools—immediately. The board’ll meet tomorrow in a special meeting and we’ll hash out the logistics. I do know we’ll need to purchase a couple of temporary buildings immediately. It was the consensus of the board members that we close McDowell High and move all the black students here. Their enrollment is considerably less than Lincoln’s, and their school is in deplorable condition. They felt that none of our white elementary students would ever go there. Their enrollment is about one-third of Lincoln’s. We’ll need to pass a bond issue and build another wing to our school, hopefully in the near future if the whites stay.

I’ll get all the numbers together, look at staffing, space, certification, and other related matters, and try to have them ready for the board meeting tomorrow, Dr. Shelby said. We all knew this was coming, but not this soon. We’ll make the best of the situation. They shook hands and Dr. Young departed.

Cindy, call Coach Hollis and ask him to come to my office, now. Cindy called the coach’s office and asked Coach Hollis Reed to come to the office. Coach Hollis rushed over to Dr. Shelby’s office. Sit down, Coach, and try not to get ill when I tell you what’s finally happened. Coach Hollis took his seat with much apprehension. Coach, we have a heck of a situation on our hands. We have less than two weeks to totally integrate our parish schools. I knew I should have retired last year. He faked a laugh. Hollis, your job is going to be the toughest on this campus. Although these kids live in the same parish, I doubt that our white kids know a single one of the black kids coming in here. Athletics might be our salvation. If you can get them to work as a team and cultivate some friendships, or at least learn to tolerate each other, we might hold a lid over this powder keg. I’ve read about some of the problems other recently integrated schools have had. I’m not going to tolerate dissension between the races on this campus. My job is to educate students. I’ll not be a referee over fights and dissension.

Hollis rubbed his forehead and looked down before commenting. That’s a tall order, sir. I’ve never worked with blacks before, and you do realize they haven’t had a winning season in years.

I know, Dr. Shelby said, but if anyone can get the best out of them, and develop character and cohesiveness, it’s you. I wanted to tell you first because you might need to get a rush order in for some additional equipment and jerseys. With their limited funds, I doubt their equipment is up to standard. McDowell has two black coaches, and I’ll ask the board to have them reassigned to us at the board meeting tomorrow. You have longevity over them, and I’m certainly going to recommend you as head coach and athletic director. That could possibly be another bone of contention. Hell Hollis, I don’t see anything but problems ahead of us.

Let’s hope not. We all knew this was coming. When the troops escorted James Meredith into Ole Miss in ’62, it was only a matter of time before the public schools all over the nation would be forced to integrate. You know I was hoping to bring that state championship trophy back to Lincoln this year, Hollis said, shaking his head. We’ll just have to bite the bullet and make the best of a difficult situation. I’ll place a rush order in today, and we have weight training at four this afternoon. If the blacks plan to play football here, I want all of them here today for weight training. I know they don’t have a weight program at McDowell, and their kids have missed an entire summer already. Should I discuss the situation with our kids?

Certainly. It’ll be no secret before the day’s over. I’ll call the principal at McDowell and tell him to relay the message to Coach Spurlock and have him round up his athletes and come over for weight training if they intend to play this year. It’s still mandatory, isn’t it?

Yes, sir. I don’t intend to change my rules because of integration. And I don’t intend to cut the black athletes any more slack than is necessary, although it’s not their problem that they’ve been forced to move over here. I’ll assure you they don’t want to be here. I’ll treat them equal and hold them to the same standards as our whites. We all knew this was coming after congress enacted those Civil Rights Acts of 1964, ’65, and ’68. We all realized that the separate but equal law would never stand. Hell, to be truthful, we never treated them equally in their schools. Have you ever seen their athletic facilities? Their wooden bleachers are falling in and won’t hold a hundred people.

You are absolutely correct, Coach, We all need to get used to it because it’s here to stay, and from now on they’re all going to be our kids.

I know. Maybe we’ll still have time to put a little bulk and muscle on them before the first game, if they want to play here. I do see problems with transportation. Their kids are scattered all over the parish. The majority of our white kids live in walking distance of the school. I know the blacks don’t have their own transportation. We don’t have a dozen white kids that drive their parents’ cars to school. What’s the black to white ratio?

Approximately thirty percent black, Dr. Shelby informed him. I’ll Call Mr. Jefferson, the principal at McDowell, and tell him that you expect their athletes to be at weight training today at four sharp, if they plan to play this year. I’m calling a special faculty meeting tomorrow at one P.M. I don’t want my outstanding teachers bailing out on us because of this. Nothing is going to change around here as long as I’m holding the reins. I’ve already heard talk at Mack’s Café downtown about starting a private school when the court order finally comes. Cletus Netterville even asked if I’d consider being principal if they could generate the funds necessary to build a school. I told him I was a proponent of public education, and I plan to work only a few more years. I asked him why he didn’t wait and see how things worked out first? We have to live together, and we’re fighting in Vietnam together. Why can’t we go to school together and learn to get along? A number of our seniors will be drafted after graduation, and they’ll be fighting side by side in Vietnam, and some will die together. He didn’t like my suggestion. I want everyone to know that I plan to run a tight ship.

Hollis walked back to the dressing room and sat down. His wrinkled brow revealed his deep concern about how the influx of new students, especially the black football players, might affect his potential championship team and the overall education at Lincoln. Since Dr. Shelby had taken over the principal’s position, the academic achievement of the students had risen considerably on standardized tests. He was a tough but fair administrator, and was respected and loved by teachers, parents, and students.

Lincoln had won the state championship in 1968. Sixty-nine was a rebuilding year, after losing fifteen seniors, yet the team still managed to win eight games, but didn’t make the playoffs. Hollis had a predominantly senior team again, and things had never looked brighter for the Lincoln Lions. Another state title was on the horizon if the team played to their potential with no dissension. Now, it seemed that a federal judge had tossed a monkey wrench into the cog and possibly sabotaged their season.

Hollis made the call and ordered additional game uniforms and equipment from the sporting goods store in Monroe. He and his assistant, Frank Miles, had worked on the fall practice schedule all summer. As the hours passed, he began pacing nervously, concerned about whether any McDowell athletes would show up for weight lifting. Coach Frank Miles had taken his family to Gulf Shores for the weekend. He needed a little R&R and golf before the marathon school year started. Hollis wished Frank was there for moral support, and wisdom, and his cool demeanor. Frank had been his assistant for over fifteen years, and he knew his football, having played at Northeast in Monroe. Frank coached the girls’ basketball team after the football season ended. Coach Hollis ran the game clock at the home basketball games. Larry Steed was the basketball coach, and he coached the boys’ and girls’ basketball teams until Coach Frank finished with football. Hollis had not insisted that Coach Steed help with football because he didn’t know diddly squat about football. Frank and Hollis were the perfect pair. Frank’s cool demeanor often kept Hollis out of trouble with the officials during games when Coach Hollis thought he had received a bogus call. Hollis was a calm person under normal conditions, but after the kickoff, he was in another zone, intense, verbal, and always one step ahead of his opponent. He was a brilliant game strategist. He studied game films of his opponents for hours and was able to develop a game plan that would exploit his opponent’s weakness.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Max Martin, Lincoln’s senior All-State quarterback from the previous year, and his best friend, Kenny Smith, an All State center and defensive end, walked into the back of the gym where the weight room was located. They immediately began their routine at the different weight stations. Max was the best football player to ever play at Lincoln High. His statistics were from outer space, and almost every college and university in the nation was hounding him. Max was six-two, two hundred pounds with room to grow and muscle-up even more. He was so fast it seemed he could almost fly, had won the one-hundred yard dash, anchored three winning relay teams at the state track meet at LSU the previous year. The team brought home the state track and field championship trophy. Max was every coach’s dream. He had a 4.0 GPA, and was a model student. He was loved by all the students and town’s people. His passes were laser like and always on target. He was also the best looking boy anyone had ever seen, with golden hair, sparkling gorgeous blue eyes, and a sculptured face and physique. All the girls swooned when he walked by. He always spoke to them and gave them a big smile and a kind word. Max’s father was a lawyer and the District Attorney for the judicial district. The Martin family was well respected and admired by almost everyone in the small town and parish.

Kenny was an outstanding six foot two, 220 pound center and linebacker. He was being recruited by dozens of major colleges. The two boys were both outstanding athletes and best friends. They lived in the same subdivision close to each other.

Coach Hollis walked out of his small office in the dressing room and eased over by Max and Kenny. They were warming up, doing power cleans, with light weight on the bar.

Boys, Hollis began, we need to talk. They stopped lifting and waited intently. The Federal Court order we’ve been expecting came in yesterday, and we’ve been mandated to integrate the schools—immediately. Max’s eyes widened, and Kenny lowered his head. I spoke with Dr. Shelby this morning, and he said athletics might be the secret to a smooth and trouble free transition. I agreed with him. You two were elected by your teammates to be the permanent captains again this year. That’s an honor that carries a great deal of responsibility. I’ll not be privy to the conversations you kids have after practice and at The Burger Shop down town. I don’t have twenty-four hour control over you, kids. If we are going to be able to pull this thing off without a hitch, it’ll be because of you two and the other seniors, not only at practice and in class, but also after school. It’s going to be a different situation this year, and we don’t exactly know what to expect. It’ll be a day-to-day learning and growing process. This is my home, boys. I was born here, played football here, and at Louisiana Tech, and hopefully, I’ll remain here until I die. I love this school, this town, and you kids. I’m not exactly excited about all this, but it is the law of the land now, and it’ll never change. We either accept it, or—there is no or. It’s here and it’s here to stay. Dr. Shelby told the principle at McDowell that we—I expect his athletes to be here for weight lifting today, or they won’t play this year. That’s our policy, and I won’t change it for anyone. It’s a matter of disciplining ourselves to accomplish a goal. I could stay home and lounge around the house all summer, but that wouldn’t help us win ball games. We win games because we work out all year, and we’re stronger than our opponents, and that’s a life lesson. One gets out of life exactly what he puts into it.

Max’s brow wrinkled, and he asked, What if they don’t show, Coach?

Then I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. If I don’t allow them to play, I’ll probably get fired or land in jail. I’ll be labeled a racist. We’ll probably have a riot on our hands. We’ll know in twenty minutes, one way or the other. I’m depending on you, boys. They nodded and resumed their weight training. The two boys always finished first, and went to the track, to begin running. They were tremendous physical specimens and the most dedicated members of the team.

The rest of the team began to arrive a few minutes later. Everyone had already heard the news about the integration. Coach Hollis told them that he would address the situation after they finished their workout. The boys mumbled all through weight training with much apprehension. Coach Hollis feared the black athletes wouldn’t come, and it appeared he was right, because it was already four-thirty, and most of his kids had finished the weight circuit. He was in a near panic, knowing he might have to eat his words, or be terminated.

Most of the kids had started walking toward the door ready to go to the field to jog laps before doing some sprints. They saw an old ragged flatbed Chevrolet truck pull to a stop near the dressing room. A late model Oldsmobile pulled up beside the flatbed truck. A tall handsome young man stepped out of the Oldsmobile and walked over by the flatbed truck and waited.

Hollis rushed toward the door. Milton Thomas, a young sophomore lineman yelled, Ya’ll gotta see this. There must be thirty niggers hanging off the side of that old flatbed wreck.

Hollis rushed over to Milton, grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. He barked, I don’t ever want to hear that word come from your mouth or anyone’s mouth again. Did everyone hear me?

Yes, sir! resounded from all the boys.

Hollis yelled at the boys still working out, You guys forget the rest of the workout and go to the bleacher. He didn’t get an argument out of anyone, just a few smiles.

The black athletes were still sitting on the bed of the old flatbed truck with their legs dangling off the side, wide eyed, and appearing somewhat uneasy. The two black coaches hopped out of the cab and walked over to Coach Hollis. Hollis knew them, and they shook hands.

We got your message, Coach Reed, Coach Spurlock, the head coach at McDowell said. My boys live all over the parish. Only one of them has transportation, and he gestured at the boy that came in the Oldsmobile. He whispered, His poppa’s a doctor. Very few of these boys have phones. We borrowed my brother’s old flatbed truck and had to hustle to round up all we could find. A few are missing because they work and didn’t get the word.

You did Well, Coach Spurlock, on such short notice, Coach Hollis said.

Thank you, Coach Spurlock said. He eased over close to Coach Hollis and whispered, What you think they gonna do with us?

I’m sure you’ll be re-assigned here at Lincoln. If all those boys play football, it’ll take all of us to coach them. Coach Spurlock smiled at the reply, and nodded. Now, get your kids to hop off the bed of the truck, and let’s go to the stadium and have a little powwow. The boys from McDowell heard Coach Hollis, and they began jumping off the bed and started walking toward the stadium. One very small boy was barefoot, and the stickers had dried. He walked gingerly toward the stadium. As they walked along, Coach Hollis could hear the McDowell boys murmuring about how beautiful the school and facilities were. One of the McDowell boys said, Look how big that stadium is, and he marveled about all the lights. McDowell had no lighted field. They had to play all their games on Friday afternoon. Their stadium consisted of one small set of wooden bleachers that had been built by the coaches, parents, and teachers.

As the three coaches eased along toward the bleachers, Coach Spurlock spoke softly, not wanting to be heard by his players. He said, Coach Hollis, we have a problem. I borrowed my brother’s flatbed truck that he uses to haul lumber for the hardware store downtown. It was his afternoon off. The truck won’t be available tomorrow. These kids live all over the parish. Some have twenty miles to get to the school every day. We always began fall practice around August 15th, but we never have half our boys at practice until school starts because they have no way to get to practice until the school buses started running. Some walk and a few hitchhike to practice. And most of them have to hitchhike back home after practice during the season. Only one has a car. Heck, lots of them don’t have parents at home, and a number of them live with their grandparents, or relatives.

We’ll work something out, Coach Spurlock. Do you have any outstanding athletes on your team? Hollis asked.

Yes, sir. I know our record isn’t too good because we always get off to a slow start. Half the kids aren’t there for fall camp, but by mid-season the kids began to win some games. We have some outstanding athletes on our team. But with your rule about no weight training, no football, you’ll never get to see them play. I’m shootin’ straight with you, sir.

Cut the sir. We’re co-workers, and coaches here now. Call me Coach, or Coach Hollis. Okay?

Coach Spurlock smiled, nodded and said, Okay, Coach Hollis.

Coach Spurlock, I’m going to try to make a point using my sharp pointed knife. I’d appreciate it if you’ll follow my lead, if you’re not frightened of the sight of blood. Coach Spurlock’s eyes widened, he snickered, and nodded. They walked to the bleachers, and just as Coach Hollis had expected, the McDowell team members sat on one end of the bleachers and the Lincoln team members sat on the other end.

Coach Hollis and the other two coaches stood in front of the two teams. Coach Hollis began, "My name is Coach Hollis Reed. You can address me as Coach, or Coach Hollis. My two fellow coaches are Coach Spurlock and Coach Sanders. My assistant coach will be back for practice Monday. His name is Coach Frank Miles. The first thing we’re going to do is meet our team mates. Boys, get up and walk to the center of the bleachers, find someone from the other school, shake his hands, and introduce yourself. Then take a seat by him.

There was a little hesitancy before Max stood up and walked to the middle of the bleachers, followed by Kenny. They gestured for someone on the McDowell team to come and shake their hands. The tall muscular boy with a very light complexion that had arrived in the Oldsmobile stood up and walked down to Max and Kenny. They shook hands and introduced themselves. The tall athlete from McDowell appeared to be considerably more white than black. His color was a light tan and he could have passed for Spanish, or someone who had worked in the sun all summer. He was very handsome with soft wavy brown hair and big beautiful brown eyes.

Coach Spurlock whispered to Coach Hollis, That’s Paul, our captain. He plays tailback, and he’s faster than a bullet, and has the best hands I’ve ever seen. All the black colleges are drooling over him. He gained almost two-thousand yards last year rushing with a losing season. He’s from a wealthy family, and he has his own car. He wants to play at a major college, but he knows he’ll have to go north or west to do that. His goal is to play professional football.

It won’t be long before that’ll all change down here in Dixie, Hollis said confidently. I know Alabama and LSU both have at least one black on their teams. Now that integration is here those major colleges are going to see what they’ve been missing out on."

Paul’s father is a doctor in Monroe. His last name is Jones, and he laughed. He can play for anybody. He has a twin sister that’s a tremendous athlete also. He won’t miss any practices. And he’s a straight A student along with his twin sister.

Paul and Max’s handshake broke the ice. Everyone stood and walked to the center of the bleachers and shook hands before they took a seat by each other.

When the whispering stopped and Hollis had everyone’s attention, he said, I want all of you to pay attention to what I’m going to do, but I don’t suggest that you do it. It’s strictly to make a point. He took his pocket knife out and opened the blade. It had a razor sharp tip on the end of the blade. He took the knife and pricked his forearm. A few drops of blood came out and he rubbed them on his arm and held it up for the team to see.

He changed blades and handed the knife to Coach Spurlock. Coach Spurlock was quick to perceive the lesson. He took the knife and pricked his forearm and a little blood came out and he rubbed it on his arm. He held it up for the team to see. What color do you see on our arms? Coach Hollis asked.

Everyone yelled, Red!

Isn’t that amazing, Hollis said. The school colors are red and black, and it seems we are all red-blooded Americans on the inside, whether our skin is black or white. And where football is concerned, the only thing that really matters is what’s in our hearts. We play with heart and commitment here, and we win with heart and team work. I’m going to say this once, and only once. There are no black or white football players on this team. We are all Americans and Lincoln High Lions on this team. I’m not concerned about what any of you did last year. We start fall camp on Monday all even. Every position is open to the one who want it the most. I don’t play favorites, I play winners with heart. I don’t care who your father or mother is, or how much money your family has. I care about you as an individual. And I love all my kids, and you are all my— he looked at the two black coaches and said, "our kids now. We have a goal here at Lincoln, and that goal is to win every game we play, and that means a state championship at the end of the season. No one has a position sewn up for the first game in two weeks. We never miss practice unless we’re ill. You earn your opportunity to be a starter at Lincoln. When we have a team meeting, I never want to see blacks on one side and whites on the other side again. I want to see Lions together working as a team for one goal, and that is to be the best you can be. I—we won’t accept any less. If you can’t abide by my rules, you might as well leave now because starting next Monday, we’re going to find out who has heart and can play as a team. We have only ten days to prepare for our opener. I know it’s a cliché, but it’s a darn good one. There is no I in team, and if you’re playing for your best girl, or your mother, or for your own glory, there is no place for you on this team. There’ll be plenty of praise, rewards, and glory to go around at the end of the season after we win state.

You boys from McDowell look strong, but we’re going to make you much stronger. Championships are won in the weight room during the off season, and we’ll continue to work out some during the season.

I realize we have a problem with transportation for you former McDowell boys. I’ve had time to give the situation some thought. We have an athletic bus in the parking lot over there setting idle during the summer. I’m sure I can talk Eugene Collins; he’s a retired bus driver who drives us to games, to make a route around the parish every day to pick you men up and take you home after practice. He’ll start Friday. If Coach Spurlock will give me about ten locations that will be central to most of you, we’ll run the bus every day. The McDowell kids looked at each other in amazement. It means a few of you might have to walk a mile or so to catch the bus, but if you love the game, you may have to sacrifice a bit to accomplish victory. Now we’re all going back into the gym and everyone is going to learn how to lift weights the proper way. You Lincoln boys take a McDowell boy and lead him to a weight station and demonstrate the proper way to lift weight. Let’s get started. You’ll be a little sore tomorrow, but that’ll mean you accomplished something today."

For the next hour the blacks from McDowell learned how to weightlift correctly. Hollis was pleasantly shocked and amazed at how strong most of the McDowell boys were. He whispered to Coach Spurlock, I wish Frank was here to witness this. If these kids can play football, we may be able to two platoon this year. Man, I feel like Santa just made a visit. He smiled, but his exuberance was short lived. He heard a barbell hit the floor, and one of the black kids yell, Ouch! You damn honky. You deliberately dropped that weight on my foot.

You’re full of shit, black boy, Burt Hightower shouted. Burt was an outstanding defensive end that had committed to play at Tulane the next year. He was very large, and spoiled rotten. He was the grandson of the infamous Judge Hightower, a tyrant on the bench, and hated by all the blacks. The three coaches broke toward the commotion but it was too late. The two boys began a flurry of flying fists. In seconds the whites and blacks came to the defense of their teammates and an all-out brawl ensued. Hollis and the other coaches ran into the mass of flying fists and started snatching the kids apart screaming for them to stop. In seconds the brawl ended and the kids backed away looking at each other with fiery eyes. Some had bloody noses and scratches on their faces and arms.

Coach Hollis stood between the two angry groups and said, This crap will stop today! I won’t tolerate it. I’ll recommend to the board that they disband football this year and until we learn to respect one another.

But he started it, Coach Hollis, the black boy yelled, pointing at Burt Hightower.

That’s a lie, Coach. I was trying to get the twenty pound weight off the end of the bar and my hands were sweaty, and it slipped and hit the side of his foot. It was an accident.

That’s enough, Coach Hollis barked. It doesn’t matter who started it. If either of you had a problem, a staff member was here to settle the dispute. Do I need to remind you all that you’re on school property, and this is a sanctioned school activity? I could have most of you suspended from school for a few weeks, and your football would be over this year. Now, I want every one of you that took part in the scuffle to head for the practice field. I’m going to show you how we resolve conflicts. The rest of you men resume weight lifting. Over half the team followed Coach Hollis out to the practice field. John, Coach Hollis said to one of his players, show the boys what a roll and sprint five yards looks like. John had been disciplined the previous year for taking a swing at a fellow teammate after the player had put a big hit on him in a scrimmage and laughed at him. John started jogging in place. Coach Hollis blew his whistle. John did a forward roll, sprung up, ran five steps, and resumed jogging in place. Hollis blew the whistle again. As before, John did a forward role, sprinted five yards, and continued jogging in place.

Good, Coach Hollis said. That’s the way it’s done. Now everyone make a straight line and start jogging in place. Fifteen minutes later, the boys were totally exhausted. Coach Hollis said, Men, that’s how we settle conflicts. I don’t care who started it. I’m going to finish it. Now get some water and let’s finish the weight training circuit. Most of the boys collapsed on the grass gasping for breath. Hollis looked at the other two coaches, winked, and said, Give ‘em five minutes to recover, and then bring them back inside. We’re going to finish weight training.

After all the athletes finished the weight lifting circuit, Coach Hollis said, Young men, you are to be commended. You all did really well for the first time. You’ll be sore tomorrow and that’ll be good because you’ll be stronger.

Coach Spurlock, do you have the list of pickup locations for me?

Yes, sir, Coach, and he handed it to Him. Hollis looked it over and said, This shouldn’t take more than an hour to make the round. Young men, I want to see every one of you here Friday afternoon, rested and ready to work. That’ll be our last summer training workout, and then we’ll get down to serious business Monday. We’ll have two-a-day the first week. We’ll work out at seven in the morning and five in the afternoon. Unless you young men from McDowell have a job, I’ll suggest you stay here between practices. Our cafeteria staff is already at work preparing for school. I’ll get them to prepare some lunch for you. You can rest between workouts on the mats in the gym if you’d like.

After the McDowell boys loaded onto the flatbed truck and headed home, Hollis felt better about the situation. Many of the McDowell boys were tall and very muscular. Although he had never coached a black athlete, he reasoned that all boys are alike, and if he could get them to learn his system in two weeks, the possibilities seemed endless as to their potential. He had a big smile on his face as he locked the gym and started home. He could hardly wait to get home to tell Lynne what had happened. He drove to a small subdivision on the outskirts of Lincoln. Seconds later he wheeled into his driveway. He lived in a modest, but comfortable three bedrooms home. His two daughters had graduated from high school and one attended Louisiana Tech and the other, Louisiana College. He rushed into the dining room and Lynne was coming out of the kitchen with a pot of beef stew. The aroma was tantalizing. She put the pot on the table.

What’s that smile on your face, Honey? The stew isn’t that good.

Your stew’s always good, Sweetheart. Now listen to this. The court order arrived yesterday, and we are to integrate this semester—immediately!

And that’s what you’re smiling about? You’ve been worried sick about that all summer. Why the smile?

I wish you could have seen those kids from McDowell. I don’t think any one of them had ever picked up a barbell, and I swear some of them were almost as strong as our kids that have been working out for three years. A few were actually stronger. And there’s this one boy that Coach Spurlock said was fast as a bullet, and is he big! I mean 6-2 and slightly over two hundred pounds.

You need to calm down, Sweetheart. I know how excited you can get. You might be setting yourself up for a big disappointment. You told me they had not had a winning season in years.

That’s correct. However, there’s a reason for that, and he explained to her that they had no transportation until school started, and that put them at a tremendous disadvantage in their tough black league, playing all the black schools in and around Monroe and Shreveport, and some other larger schools in north Louisiana.

Well, all I’m concerned about is you getting your expectations too high and getting disappointed. I made yeast rolls for you this afternoon. Your favorite!

Hollis walked over to his beautiful wife, put his arms around her and kissed her lovingly. Sweetheart, you’re my favorite, now and for always. Have you heard from the girls lately?

When you see the phone bill, you’ll know the answer to that. They want to talk more now than they ever did when they were home. They sat down and had a pleasant meal together. Hollis was so excited he could hardly get to sleep that night.

Hollis was still excited the next morning, and he returned to school at seven A.M. and continued to work on the practice schedule. That afternoon he took the game film from the sixty-nine season of their first opponent and began charting their plays and tendencies. They played a split six defense. It was the same as Lincoln played, and it was almost like playing against an eight-man line. Lincoln ran a multiple offense, and it was hard to scout his team because they could run the same plays from multiple offensive formations.

Dr. Shelby came into Hollis’ office that afternoon looking extremely tired and worried. I had to put my phone on hold to stop the calls, he said shaking his head. These folks are worried sick about the mandated integration. A few called and said they were trying to get their kids into the Catholic school. I told them to do what their conscience dictated, but we here at Lincoln were going to try to make it work. They said that their major concern was that the black teachers aren’t as well prepared as the white teachers and our academic standards might be compromised. Since we’ve always been straight with each other, what they’re actually concerned about is that their kids may become friends with the black students and even start dating. Hollis nodded. "That’s not my concern, Hollis. My primary concern is the education these kids have received when they graduate. What happens outside this fence is a personal choice. That’s been going on up north and on the west coast for years.

What did you think about weight training yesterday? I saw that flatbed drive by the office. I had to laugh when I saw those McDowell kids with their legs dangling off the side of the flatbed, and most in overalls."

Only one incident, Hollis said. He told Dr. Shelby about the brief ruckus.

You handled it well, Dr. Shelby commented. I suppose I better get back to the phone. I’ll have to work all night again to get staffing and certification worked out. I need to reschedule the seniors first, but I’m not complaining. After all, that is my job. I’ll let you get back to work, and he departed.

Hollis’ phone rang. He grabbed it and answered it. I read in the paper that we are now fully integrated, Frank, his assistant coach said. Have you met any of the boys from McDowell? They talked fifteen minutes and Hollis told him everything that was going on. I’m going to cut our vacation short, Frank said. You need all the support you can get.

Please don’t do that, Frank. Come back Sunday as you planned. Nothing is going to blow up here over the weekend. Judy needs a vacation as badly as you do. I know the nursing profession is more stressful than teaching and coaching.

You’re one of the good guys, Hollis. Thanks. I’ll see you Sunday afternoon. He hung up the phone. Frank taught math and algebra, and he was an excellent teacher. Judy was a nurse at the small hospital in the town of Lincoln. Their two boys and daughter were married and living away from Lincoln. Frank was a few years older than Hollis.

Hollis turned the projector back on and continued charting the opponent’s plays. His office window opened to the parking lot. He noticed Paul’s Oldsmobile pull into the parking lot and stop. The door opened and Paul stepped out of the car. A gorgeous young girl eased out of the passenger side of the car. Hollis looked closely at her, hardly able to believe how beautiful she was, long silky brown hair and large beautiful brown eyes. Her unbelievable figure in her tight sweater and short white shorts would have caught the Pope’s eye. There was a slight resemblance to her brother, Paul. They were twins and they were both beautiful young people. Her skin tone was considerably lighter than Paul. She could have easily passed for white. They walked into the gym and back to Coach Hollis’ office. They tapped on his door and he said, Come in

They walked in and Paul shook hands with Coach Hollis and introduced his sister, April. April and I have a problem, Coach Hollis. My father is insisting that April and I go to Chicago where our grandparents live and enroll in a private school up there. I love the village of Glencoe, where they live, but I don’t want to leave my friends that I’ve played football with for three years. April is a little apprehensive about coming here, and she hasn’t made up her mind yet. This isn’t something new. Father has wanted us to go up there the last few years. He said this integration was the last straw. He’s worried about April’s safety here and how she’s going to be treated. She wanted to come and look at the school before she decides. Do you think it’ll be alright if we walk around and look at the school and campus?

Hollis almost had a panic attack at the thought of losing Paul after what Coach Spurlock had told him. And the fact that he was the one that stood up to shake Max’s hand demonstrated his leadership quality.

April, Hollis began, somewhat nervously, we have an excellent school here. Our seniors score very high on the ACT every year. We have a terrific principle that taught at Louisiana Tech for many years. His primary concern is the education our kids get here. He’s promised me that he’ll tolerate no dissension between the races, and he’s a man of his word. We’re fortunate to have a man of his character and ability as our principal. I don’t expect any trouble with him as our leader. I hope you like what you see and decide to stay here and graduate. Are you a senior?

Yes sir, Coach Hollis. Paul and I are twins. Not identical as you can see. I can graduate at mid-term if I choose. Paul and I both have 4.0 GPA’s and we were looking forward to being co-valedictorians’ at McDowell. Do you think that creates a problem here at Lincoln, Coach Hollis?

Absolutely not, Sweetheart. If you maintain your average here, you will be valedictorian here.

You’re a beautiful young lady, and that’s a nice outfit you’re wearing, but you need to know shorts are not permitted in class, although I think they’d look better than some of the short skirts that girls wear. Mid-thigh is the minimum when school starts, but some push the issue.

April grinned, nodded, and said, Now, I’ll have an excuse for a new wardrobe. Her voice was soft and confident, and Hollis was very impressed with the twins.

Max pulled into the parking lot to get some running in on the track, as he did most days. He knocked on Coach Hollis’ door. Coach Hollis said, Come in. Max walked in and Coach Hollis said, Max, I know you met Paul yesterday. This beautiful young lady is Paul’s twin sister, April. Paul just gave me a scare because he said his father is considering sending them to a private school up north.

Max’s eyes were fixed on April’s unbelievable figure as she turned and looked at him, smiling. Max was breathless and could not believe anyone could be that gorgeous. Her beauty transcended any he had ever seen. Her figure was equaled only by her beauty. April had to force herself not to stare at Max, equally impressed at the sight of his handsome face and physique in his gym shorts and white T shirt. Max hadn’t heard a word Coach Hollis said.

After a moment of uneasy silence, Coach Hollis said, Max, did you hear me?

Huh? What Coach? Max said sheepishly.

What I said was, Dr. Smith, their father might make these two young people go to a private school up north this year.

Oh! No! Max blurted. We need you on the team, Paul. We’re going to win the state championship this year and you’re going to be a big part of it. You kids from McDowell look strong and tough. We can’t lose you, Paul, or you April. You’ll love Lincoln. We have wonderful teachers, and the town is behind us one-hundred percent. We have standing room only at our games. And our kids get academic and athletic scholarships every year to the state universities.

Why don’t you show them around the campus, Max. Coach Hollis said.

April’s eyes were fixed on Max as he had been speaking. I’d like that, she said to Coach Hollis.

Give them the grand tour, Max. We don’t want to lose these two brilliant young people, and take them by the office to meet Dr. Shelby. Tell him that they are straight A students. He’ll go nuts when he hears that.

They strolled over to the main building and went inside. The office was located on the right side of the spacious hall. Max opened the door to the office and they went inside. Mrs. Miller was busy at her desk. She looked up and smiled at them. Max began, Mrs. Miller, this is Paul and April Jones. They’re twins and are seniors this year. They’re both honor students. Their father is a doctor and is considering sending them to a private school in the north. He has some reservations about letting them attend Lincoln. Coach Hollis suggested that they meet Dr. Shelby. Do you think Dr. Shelby has time to talk to them?

The door was open slightly to Dr. Shelby’s office and he heard Max’s conversation. Max, is that you? He asked.

Yes, sir.

Come in, Son. They went into his office. His desk was piled up with dozens of cumulative folders. He stood up and shook hands with the three and said, If you two nice-looking, young people are that intelligent, I certainly don’t want to lose you to a private school. Sit down and let’s talk a while. They all sat and Dr. Shelby talked about the curriculum, his excellent teachers, facilities, and about the wonderful athletic program and awards they had won. You’re tall, April. Do you run track or play basketball?

April smiled and said, Yes, sir, I do both. Not to boast, but I’m pretty fast, and I was high scorer on the basketball team the last two years. And no one has ever beaten me in the hundred yard dash.

Dr. Shelby said, facetiously, I forbid you to leave. I think you’ll love it here. You two do plan to go to college, don’t you?

They both nodded. April said, I plan to be a pediatrician one day.

Paul added, I’d like to play professional football one day. But I’ll study pre-law so when my football career is over, I can get my law degree and work in a law firm.

You two young people have your heads on straight, don’t you? I like that. Max, I’m swamped in here. Would you give them the grand tour of the classrooms? A number of our teachers are in their rooms already preparing for the start of school. We have many dedicated teachers here. I know Mrs. Bryant is here. I saw her walk in a few minutes ago. She’s the best English teacher in the world. Her kids come out of her classes ready for college, and she’s one of the most dedicated teachers I’ve ever known. Make sure they meet her, Max.

Thank you, Dr. Shelby, Max said. They all shook hands. Max took them to all the high school classrooms and they met a number of teachers. After the tour was over, they returned to Paul’s car. Max opened the door for April and she eased in. What do you think, April? Max asked.

I think I’d like to graduate here, she said, smiling and nodding. Everyone is so nice and caring here, not at all the reception I was expecting. I’ll tell my father that I’m not going to a private school. He can fuss and cuss and stomp all he wants because I like what I saw. She reached out the window and held her hand out to Max. Max took it in his and they looked into each other’s eyes for a few seconds. She had the most gorgeous big brown eyes Max had ever seen. Her soft, warm hand in his sent a sensation through him like none he had ever experienced. April smiled, and her beauty was breathtaking.

Paul was quick to notice their apparent attraction for each other and their reluctance to release their hands. He quickly said, Thanks for the tour, Max. I’ll see you at weight training tomorrow, and he pulled away swiftly. Max stood and looked at their car until it disappeared. Paul gave April a wide-eyed, piercing stare as they drove along. He remarked, What was that all about?"

What was what all about? April snapped.

I think you know. That look! That smile! Taking his hand in yours and holding it until I drove away. I’ll tell you one thing. If Father saw that look you were giving him, you’d be on the next plane to Chicago. You know his feelings about whites and especially inter-racial relationships.

What! Have you totally lost your mind? He was kind and showed us compassion, nothing like I expected. I know these people don’t want us here, and if we were true to ourselves, we would admit that we don’t want to be here either. I don’t know your feelings, but as for me, I’m going to try to make this work. If that means holding his hand to let him know I appreciate what he’s trying to do for us, by making the transition smooth, then so be it. Now get off my case.

Paul gave her a dubious look, took a deep breath and said, I’m going to tell you something. You’ll probably get angry with me, but it’s the truth. Max is a white boy, and you are considered black, even though you’re ninety percent white, and could pass for white. Some white men don’t seem to have a problem making it with black women. That’s the reason we have so any blacks that are half white. However, white men don’t marry black women.

Do you think I don’t know that, Paul? Give me credit for a little intelligence. Now drop the subject.

At five-thirty, Dr. Jones walked into the house. Mrs. Jones had just finished preparing their dinner. April was helping her put the food on the table. Oh! Dr. Jones said, Pork chops, rice and gravy, my favorite.

And carrots and broccoli, Mrs. Jones added, and you are going to eat some of everything. A doctor should know the importance of vegetables."

Do you have cheese on the broccoli? Dr. Jones asked, raising his brow.

Mrs. Jones gave him a smirk and shook her head. Dinner time, Paul, she yelled down the hall.

Paul walked out of his room and commented as he walked into the dining room, Mother, something smells really good.

It’s the pork chops, Dr. Jones said. They all sat down. Dr. Jones looked at Paul and said, I think it’s your night to ask the blessing, Son.

They all bowed their heads and Paul said, "Most gracious Lord, we thank you for your kindness to us and your grace and mercy, and