African Americans

"In addition to being a legendary bass player, Graham is renowned for his baritone vocals. However, we're all about the bass, and Graham's contributions in that department are undeniably historical. Considered the inventor of the slap technique of bass playing, Graham opened the door to an innovative way of mastering the instrument. From there, the slap became a staple among funk, soul, and R&B bands. Graham was a key member of Sly and the Family Stone and fronted his own Graham Central Station. The Hall of Famer is also the uncle of popular rapper Drake."

"One of the special characters in music history. Collins got his first real shot at stardom while a member of James Brown’s famous backing band. He contributed to such Brown classics as "Sex Machine" and "Super Bad." From there, Collins took that soul background and his "space bass" with a funk vibe over to George Clinton’s Parliament-Funkadelic. In addition to playing with those two juggernauts of sound, the Hall of Famer has collaborated with the likes of Talking Heads and Keith Richards. Collins has also taught the bass and has been featured in music videos and on television sitcoms."

"John Coltrane once said, "Paul Chambers was one of the greatest bass players in jazz. His playing is beyond what I could say about it." Chambers played a vital role in both the Prestige recordings of Coltrane, as well as a part of Miles Davis's first great quintet, appearing on the 1959 landmark album, Kind of Blue. Chambers, who died at the age of 33, also released some fine recordings as a leader, namely Whims of Chambers and Bass on Top."

"I have observed that, in jazz, all roads lead back to Louis Armstrong. But Louis’s road began with the man he honoured as his inspiration, idol and mentor, Joe ‘King’ Oliver. During World War I, Oliver was the cornet king of New Orleans, and in 1919 he went north to Chicago, where he won similar renown with his Creole Jazz Band, dazzling dancers, listeners and musicians with the sound of Crescent City jazz. Oliver had been a father figure to young Armstrong, and in 1922 he invited his protégé to join his group in Chicago. Armstrong’s brilliance was already evident, and his arrival transformed the Oliver band from a classic ensemble to a legend. It’s our supreme good fortune that the next year the group put much of its repertoire on disc – 37 sides which constitute the first unequivocal demonstration of the expresssive potency of jazz, in all its variety and fire. While it’s easy to marvel at the immensity of Armstrong’s burgeoning talent, the overwhelming effect of these records is the power of the Creole Jazz Band as a whole. With King Oliver firmly at the helm, the group achieves a level of focused energy and invention that is simply irresistible. In accord with New Orleans practice, theirs is largely an ensemble music – solos tend to be short, adding colour to the overall texture. But the definition of the individual voices is a constant delight, as is the unflagging, pulsating swing."

"At age 17, he had a radical conception of the drums that rocked the world then and sounds as fresh today. You can tell he’s hearing the music in slow motion. He could see the forest, so to speak."

"In its post-World War II heyday, bebop was known as much for its precarious lifestyle as for musical daring. Generated in no small part by the aura surrounding the mythic, self-destructive Charlie Parker, drug addiction became an occupational hazard among aspiring jazz players. But amid this chronicle of disaster, Clifford Brown presented a shining alternative. The most brilliant young trumpeter of his generation, he was completely drug-free, a model both as musician and man – disciplined and good-natured. Thus it seemed a particularly cruel trick of fate that, in 1956, he died in a car accident, aged just 25. Though he had only been recording for four years, Brown left a considerable legacy on disc. He enlivened every session with his bright sound, impeccable facility and, above all, the sense that everything he played was driven by delight, an insatiable urge to say something new in each solo. Sheer fluency is perhaps his most striking quality, carried along by a rich tone, and an attack as crisp, intelligent and varied as the buoyant logic that informed his improvisations."

"There has been no more potent embodiment of that spirit than the singer Huddie Ledbetter, known as ‘Leadbelly’. Ordinary he wasn’t: born in rural Texas in c.1888, regal in bearing and strong as an ox, he claimed to be the world’s greatest cotton picker, railroad track layer, lover, drinker and guitar player. His pride was matched by a temper and disposition to violence, resulting in spells in prison for assault and murder. And it was in 1933, in the Louisiana State Penitentiary, that he was discovered by folksong collectors John and Alan Lomax. Under the sponsorship of the Lomaxes, Leadbelly began his rise to stardom, benefiting from the gathering vogue for trad jazz and rugged authenticity. He gave concerts across the US and Europe, dying in New York in 1949. Though the strictest arbiters exclude his work from the jazz canon, it’s hard not to recognise his vital link to the essential force of the music."

"Not long after he arrived in New York in 1930, the teenage Roy Eldridge was dubbed ‘Little Jazz’, acknowledging both his compact build and musical intensity. From the start, the trumpeter was keen to make his mark, seeking out ‘every jam session going’, and taking on all comers in battles of speed, range and daring. Instead of the broad, heraldic character usually associated with the trumpet, the young Eldridge cultivated a super-charged fluency, imitating saxophonists like Coleman Hawkins. Though his elders were impressed, they had reservations regarding his musical substance, which Eldridge himself came to share. In his words, ‘I was very fast, but I wasn’t telling no kind of story.’ With that realisation, his talent began to flower. His facility for high-voltage, bravura excitement was deepened and enhanced by an instinct for musical structure, so that an Eldridge solo became even more thrilling."

"The original and, many would argue, the best. Robert Johnson, bluesman of fabled lore, with his unearthly tone and his deal with the devil, is barely even a real person any more. If it weren’t for the few scant, scratchy recordings we have of him, it’d be easy to let the myth overshadow the man. But those recordings, beamed in from another age, are raw proof of a talent that defies explanation. He did things with his fingers that people are still trying to figure out, and wrote songs that live on in the DNA of all popular music. His legacy, like some Mississippi Van Gogh, far outstrips his lifetime achievements, and he will forever remain the demon king of the delta blues."

"Robert Johnson is the greatest blues guitarist of all time and one of rock’s founding fathers from the pre-World War II Delta blues era. [...] The first guitar hero, Johnson had the attitude to go with the chops. His tragic death in 1938 at the age of 27 has made him an icon for those who also mourn Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison."

"With his phenomenal ear, Wes quickly grew beyond his influences and developed a style all his own. His knack for melody, groundbreaking use of octaves in a soloing context and intricate chord solos—as demonstrated in his devastating interpretations of standards like “Round Midnight” and “Days of Wine and Roses”—broadened the range of guitar, pushing the instrument into unchartered territory."

"Art Farmer’s approach to jazz seemed simplicity itself. ‘What I try to do with a song,’ the trumpeter once said, ‘is to get as much enjoyment out of playing it as I can.’ Yet his style expressed a quiet profundity and originality that defied the obvious. Although, born in 1928, he was a member of the bebop generation, he eschewed obvious pyrotechnics. A Farmer solo didn’t merely ‘run the changes’, ripping through the chords, but created an absorbing, probing shape, at once subtle and lyrical. In terms of facility, he could do anything he wanted, and his technical command and thoughtful musicianship ensured first-call status in the booming jazz scene of the 1950s. After apprenticeship with Lionel Hampton and other big bands, Farmer starred with two of the most prominent small groups of the time – Horace Silver’s hard-driving quintet, and the cool quartet of Gerry Mulligan. At the same time, he was leading his own groups in a series of widely praised albums. One of the best is the eponymous Art, with a quartet including the trumpeter’s kindred spirit, pianist Tommy Flanagan. Effortlessly compelling, it’s a classic example of Farmer’s special gift for reinventing standard tunes. ‘Younger than Springtime’ becomes a kind of idyll, his tone both round and clear. ‘Who Cares’ shows his fiery side, full of unexpected angles, and ‘I’m a Fool to Want You’ is a reflective ballad, but not morose."

"When Charlie Christian got on the bandstand with Benny Goodman in 1939, he single-handedly propelled the electric guitar into the mainstream. Though he wasn’t the first guitarist to plug in and play electrified, Christian’s performances as a soloist on Goodman tracks like “Flying Home” and “Honeysuckle Rose” document the first instances that the electric guitar was used effectively as a lead instrument in a Big Band setting. The increased volume and sustain that amplification offered put the guitar on a level playing field with customary soloing instruments like the trumpet and saxophone, and Christian’s participation in early bebop jam sessions alongside such luminaries as Thelonius Monk and Dizzy Gillespie also makes him one of the founding fathers of the genre. Sadly, Christian died from tuberculosis at 26. HIs body of work inspired a generation of jazz guitar giants, including Barney Kessel, Herb Ellis, Wes Montgomery, Tal Farlow and Jim Hall."

"For all his renown as the creator of modern-jazz guitar, Charlie Christian was a country boy. Steeped in the rich musical traditions of the American Southwest, he began to play almost as soon as he could walk, guiding his blind, guitarist father around Oklahoma City and entertaining with the family band. In his early teens, an encounter with tenor saxophonist Lester Young inspired him to cultivate single-note lines in the manner of a horn, rather than the guitar’s customary strumming. A crucial technological boost to Christian’s pioneering style was the development of amplification in the 1930s. By 1937, he was using an electric guitar and word of his extraordinary ability began to spread far beyond the local scene, leading to an invitation to audition for the King of Swing, Benny Goodman, in 1939. Despite an unfortunate first impression – Charlie appeared in a bright green suit with a purple shirt, yellow shoes and a ten-gallon hat – the new Benny Goodman Sextet came into being there and then. Jazz guitar would never be the same again."

"Every solo he plays, however brief, says something, with a captivating mixture of supple technique, bluesy authority and endless invention. You feel that his effortless flow of chromatic sophistication, twangy asides and visceral swing was constantly on tap."

"When Freddie Hubbard died at the end of 2008, it was sobering to think that the younger generation of jazz fans might not be sure who he was. Aged 70, the trumpeter had been largely inactive for almost two decades, his career plagued by lip trouble and a lack of direction. It was a far cry from his 1960s status as a new trumpet king, synonymous with cutting-edge excitement, a key player in most classic sessions of those heady days."

"Grant Green's unique mixture of bebop, blues and fun distinguished him as one of the quintessential soul jazz/hard bop guitarists from the get-go."

"Green's current reputation [is being] one of the "most sampled guitarists.""

"Grant was the master of phrasing."

"There are only a few immediately recognizable electric guitarists and Albert King is one of them. [...] Perhaps the main ingredient in his uniqueness is his sense of dynamics."

"[King] used to be a bulldozer driver, and plays like it. An awesomely physical guitarist, he may grab a note by the throat and muscle it up to the breaking point with his beefy right hand. Or he may just squeeze that note a little, and a little more, and a little more, teasing, coaxing, twisting it into place with subtly shaded bends. Albert King is the master of both the knockout band the nuance, and for him both extremes yield remarkably expressive results. [...] With his electrifying vibrato and eternal sustain, he covers a range of expression from delicate quips to police siren wails."

"Like his renowned guitar playing, Albert's husky voice is a most sensitive blues instrument -- sometimes powerful, sometimes gentle, often both. It's an intimate voice, full of experience and humor, and it's just as personal and identifiable as his guitar work."

"Christian wasn't the first jazz guitarist to use amplification (Eddie Durham, for one, beat him to it), but he brought the electric guitar into focus with his immense talent. Along with making the guitar a viable instrument in Goodman's style of swing, Christian was also a forerunner in the establishment of the musical language of bebop."

"Albert King is the Muhammad Ali of blues guitar -- a heavyweight with finesse, a bruiser with grace. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

"Durant: It can get a little frustrating after you take an L but overall, you get another opportunity to right the ship tomorrow, and practice film, so I'm grateful any time I get to step on the court, you know, and trying to finish this off right. But yeah, after games, it gets a little frustrating and in the moment when we are having a bad stretch, yeah, it get a little frustrating. Reporter: Do you enjoy the game as much? Durant: Ay, come on now, shit. There is beauty in the struggle, you know. There is beauty in it. There is beauty in all the stuff, especially when you come out the other side of things and you realize that pressure and hard times made you better. So I think we can all pull from these experiences to get better and use them for the next game, but the worst thing we could do is feel sorry for ourselves, you know. Still gotta put our best foot forward and try to play the best ball the next day. If you don't play great ball that day, try to do it the day after that, until the season over...""

"Although he started out on acoustic, it was with Muddy’s transition onto the electric that captivated the music world, with the hulking bluesman using a slide alongside open G tuning on many of his greatest tracks, including ‘Mannish Boy’ and ‘Honey Bee’. Waters was also noted for his immense vibrato, and was famous for rolling up the volume knob prior to his solos to create eardrum shattering levels of distortion to cut through the mix and write himself into history."

"Bad Brains and Dr. Know hold impressive credentials. Not only have they blended and bended several genres throughout their career, but they were vital to the development of hardcore punk and thrash metal subgenres. He can do reggae, funk, punk, metal, and hip hop. Dr. Know is probably your favorite punk guitarist's favorite guitarist. Both of those subgenres would flourish in the years after Dr. Know unleashed his guitar skills on the world. And we're all better for it."

"As hardcore inflicted grievous bodily harm upon land speed records and societal norms, early harDCore heroes Bad Brains stood out. They were not only the earliest of thrash outfits, but they were likely the best musicians to tackle the form. Guitarist Dr. Know is especially adept, spewing volleys of 16th notes like some people yawn. This American Rasta was like one of the earliest metal guitarists working within a punk format. Then, like the rest of his brethren, he could stop on a dime and downshift into the slowest, deepest dub reggae. It’s truly astonishing."

"You fucking need me."

"I want other teams to hate us, you don't want to play Miami. It's not going to be easy. It's going to be a dogfight."

"I'm just messing with stuff to make the internet mad."

"You mean how can I turn into the greatest basketball player in the world all of a sudden? I don't know, man. I'm just different. I think this is when you're supposed to be playing your best basketball and you have to find a way to get your team to win these games when you're talking about the playoffs coming around. [...] You just keep a couple things in your pocket all year long, and whenever you do it at a certain point of the year, they deem it something else like 'Playoff Jimmy'. But it's just me playing the long game throughout the season. I know that I'm really good at this game, and I know I could do a lot of things well on the basketball court. There are just times when you have to step it up a notch. You can't show the opponent everything now. You have to always keep people guessing. Whatever y'all want to call it, 'Playoff Jimmy,' or 'that crazy motherfucker Emo Jimmy,' I don't care."

"I think I'm the first person to sit on the top of the world."

"The ages of the wild, misgiving mystery of the North Pole are over, today, and forever it stands under the folds of Old Glory."

"Another world's accomplishment was done and finished, and as in the past, from the beginning of history, wherever the world's work was done by a white man, he had been accompanied by a colored man."

"I’m in there. You can’t have Gollum without Jar Jar. You can’t have the Na’vi in ‘Avatar’ without Jar Jar. You can’t have Thanos or the Hulk without Jar Jar. I was the signal for the rest of this art form, and I’m proud of Jar Jar for that, and I’m proud to be a part of that. I’m in there!"

"I was a person who always followed my heart and followed my passion. Like things like money and strategy and all of those things that never really occurred to me. It was just really doing all the things that I love and Stomp was kind of all of it. You know, it allowed me to be an actor, it allowed me to be a drummer, allowed me to be a mover, a martial artist. So, it was one of those serendipitous moments at a wonderful period of time that kind of culminated perfectly."

"Years later, the Veterans Administration ruled that Johnson was not able to "make a rational decision," opening the way for an increased pension for his wife. They'd heard testimony from a representative of the Detroit Disabled American Veterans, who'd been fighting Katrina for two and a half years. He said Johnson had been used "to motivate other blacks, not honoring [him] for what he did, saving lives by killing the enemy, but using him." Other testimony, from a Detroit psychiatrist, claimed that "Johnson's criminal behavior was an effort to get himself killed." That's what Johnson's mother thought, and it was with a quote from her that Nordheimer chose to end his article. "Sometimes I wonder," she said, "if Skip tired of this life and needed someone else to pull the trigger.""

"Johnson walked down the block to the Sip 'n' Chat bar and sat down. He ordered a shot of Johnnie Waler and a Pabst. He drank slowly, paid, and left. Johnson then walked across the street to the Open Pantry Market, what they call a "party store" in Detroit. He asked for a pack of cigarettes. He offered a bill to pay. When the storeowner opened the register, Johnson pulled a .22 caliber pistol and told him to step aside. The owner lunged for the gun when Johnson reached for the money. The pistol went off, twice. One bullet grazed the owner; the other entered his left arm. The owner reached under the counter and produced his own gun. He started firing. "I hit him with two bullets, but he just stood there, with the gun in his hand, and said, 'I'm going to kill you.' I kept pulling the trigger until my gun was empty," the storeowner told police. Dwight Johnson was taken to the hospital with three bullet wounds in his chest and one to his face. He died on an operating table at 4:00 A.M. The police who went throigh his wallet for ID found a card that read "Congressional Medal of Honor Society, United States of America" and "This certifies that Dwight H. Johnson is a member of this society.""

"Six days after his first and last battle in Vietnam, he was back at his mother's home, in the last week of January 1968. He'd missed the Tet Offensive, the January 30 across-the-board attack on American installations, by a hair's breadth, and his buddies back in Detroit thought it was good sport to tease him about how he'd gotten off easy. He never contradicted them. In fact, he agreed with them, insisting that nothing had happened during the war. He tried to appear unaffected and sociable. Those who didn't know him well couldn't tell that anything was wrong. He seemed to be filling up his days with as much activity as possible. No one knew he was having nightmares. One friend said, however, that he had color slides of dead Vietcong in his room. In the fall, Johnson started trying to get a job, and his cousin Thomas Tillman got to see a side of him he didn't know existed. Johnson was a friendly, gregarious, outgoing guy, a practical joker. But when he tried for a job, Tillman said, "He'd just sit and mumble a few words when they'd ask him questions. It was like he felt inferior." He only tried for the jobs that had minimal qualifications, even though he'd qualified as a tank driver in the Army. And even then, he got nowhere. "For two months we went around to place after place and got doors slammed in our face... People gave him a lousy break. Nothing happened decent to him.""

"For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Sp5c. Johnson, a tank driver with Company B, was a member of a reaction force moving to aid other elements of his platoon, which was in heavy contact with a battalion-size North Vietnamese force. Sp5c. Johnson's tank, upon reaching the point of contact, threw a track and became immobilized. Realizing that he could do no more as a driver, he climbed out of the vehicle, armed only with a .45 caliber pistol. Despite intense hostile fire, Sp5c. Johnson killed several enemy soldiers before he had expended his ammunition. Returning to his tank through a heavy volume of antitank-rocket, small-arms and automatic weapon fire, he obtained a submachine gun with which to continue his fight against the advancing enemy. Armed with this weapon, Sp5c. Johnson again braved deadly enemy fire to return to the center of the ambush site where he courageously eliminated more of the determined foe. Engaged in extremely close combat when the last of his ammunition was expended, he killed an enemy soldier with the stock end of his submachine gun. Now weaponless, Sp5c. Johnson ignored the enemy fire around him, climbed into his platoon sergeant's tank, extricated a wounded crewmember and carried him to an armored personnel carrier. He then returned to the same tank and assisted in firing the main gun until it jammed. In a magnificent display of courage, Sp5c. Johnson exited the tank and again armed only with a .45 caliber pistol, engaged several North Vietnamese troops in close proximity to the vehicle. Fighting his way through devastating fire and remounting his own immobilized tank, he remained fully exposed to the enemy as he bravely and skillfully engaged them with the tank's externally mounted .50 caliber machine gun, where he remained until the situation was brought under control. Sp5c. Johnson's profound concern for his fellow soldiers, at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty, are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself and the U.S. Army."

"President Johnson had used previous Medal of Honor ceremonies to vilify the war protestors. This time, however, with the peace talks in Paris between the United States and North Vietnam moving forward, and Johnson's administration about to leave the White House, he chose to focus on the distant possibilities of peace and national unity as he presented five medals to five Vietnam veterans. "In this company we hear again, in our minds, the sound of distant battles. This room echoes once more to those words that describe the heights of bravery in war- above and beyond the call of duty... These five soldiers, in their separate moments of supreme testing, summoned a degree of courage that stirs wonder and respect and an overwhelming pride in all of us.""

"William Charette and countless others have spoken about survivor guilt. Johnson had the guilt of surviving coupled with the knowledge that he would have died along with his friends in his original tank, but for the Army's reassignment. He also had the experience of what officials in Vietnam called a "personal kill." Hardly any soldier, no matter how hardened, can walk away from a face-to-face killing like this without being affected. On top of that, he had the memory of the enemy's rifle pointed at his chest and the sound of the click. Everyone at the scene of the battle could see he was highly disturbed by what he'd just experienced. At home, however, no one knew what he'd just been through and no one could even approach understanding what happened to him. According to Dwight Johnson's father-in-law, "He always said he should have died over there. He said he couldn't understand why he didn't.""

"I don't know how many I killed. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't counting. I was just shooting."

"We were just wanting to make something new, and fresh, and exciting, and healing that was going to be able to, you know, help heal our fans and help heal us because we were both going through situations that were mentally challenging. This was our place where we can let our superhero versions of ourselves shine and create the things we express and share with the world, which was our music."

"(Money) doesn't make you better than anyone. You need it in this society, but you shouldn't let it go to your head. I like it to keep people off my back and to help people I know who really need it."

"I received the Medal the thirteenth of January, nineteen-ninety-seven, from President Clinton. Seven were awarded, but I was the only one still walking around. I was thinking about nineteen men left on a hillside."

""Heidy usually answers the phone. But I picked it up and said, 'Good morning.' The voice on the other end said, 'Mr. Baker, Vernon Baker?' I said, 'Yeah.' He said, 'What do you know a bout the Medal of Honor?' And I thought, 'Who in the hell is this nut?' and I started to hang up the phone. He said, 'Don't hang up! I'm Professor Gibran and I'm a professor at the Shaw University in North Carolina, and the Army has given us a $350,000 grant to investigate why no black Americans received the Medal of Honor during World War II.' And I said, 'Um, yeah, this is another one of those committees they dream up to investigate, and then all of a sudden they're gone.' Well, he said he'd like to come and talk to me, him and a Colonel Cash. He's deceased now. So I said, 'Okay.' We met them over at a hotel in Spokane for a couple of days, spent the time talking. All of a sudden, reporters started calling, and then people started showing up at the door, wanting interviews."

"For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty: First Lieutenant Vernon J. Baker distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism in action on 5 and 6 April 1945. At 0500 hours on 5 April 1945, Lieutenant Baker advanced at the head of his weapons platoon, along with Company C's three rifle platoons, towards their objective; Castle Aghinolfi - a German mountain strong point on the high ground just east of the coastal highway and about two miles from the 370th infantry Regiment's line of departure. Moving more rapidly than the rest of the company, Lieutenant Baker and about 25 men reached the south side of a draw some 250 yards from the castle within two hours. In reconnoitering for a suitable position to set up a machine gun, Lieutenant Baker observed two cylindrical objects pointing out of a slit in a mount at the edge of a hill. Crawling up and under the opening, he stuck his M-1 into the slit and emptied the clip, killing the observation post's two occupants. Moving to another position in the same area, Lieutenant Baker stumbled upon a well-camouflaged machine gun nest, the crew of which was eating breakfast. He shot and killed both enemy soldiers. After Captain John F. Runyon, Company C's Commander joined the group, a German soldier appeared from the draw and hurled a grenade which failed to explode. Lieutenant Baker shot the enemy soldier twice as he tried to flee. Lieutenant Baker then went down into the draw alone. There he blasted open the concealed entrance of another dugout with a hand grenade, shot one German soldier who emerged after the explosion, tossed another grenade into the dugout and entered firing his sub-machine gun, killing two more Germans. As Lieutenant Baker climbed back out of the draw, enemy machine gun and mortar fire began to inflict heavy casualties among the group of 25 soldiers, killing or wounding about two-thirds of them. When expected reinforcements did not arrive, Captain Runyon ordered a withdrawal in two groups. Lieutenant Baker volunteered to cover the withdrawal of the first group, which consisted mostly of walking wounded, and to remain to assist in the evacuation of the more seriously wounded. During the second group's withdrawal, Lieutenant Baker, supported by covering fire from one of his platoon members, destroyed two machine gun positions (previously bypassed during the assault) with hand grenades. In all, Lieutenant Baker accounted for nine enemy dead soldiers, elimination of three machine gun positions, an observation post, and a dugout. On the following night, Lieutenant Baker voluntary led a battalion advance through enemy mine fields and heavy fire toward the division objective. Lieutenant Baker's fighting spirit and daring leadership were an inspiration to his men and exemplify the highest traditions of the military service."

"Having grown up in a small northern town, Baker didn't understand why they asked him and another black passenger to move to the front car, closer to the noise and exhaust of the locomotive, shortly after the train crossed into Texas. Boarding the empty bus for Camp Wolters, he tossed his bag down and moved into the first seat behind the driver- his first mistake in the segregated South. The driver spun around with words uglier than Baker had ever heard: "Hey, nigger, get up and get to the back of the bus where you belong." Baker's fists clenched as a friendly hand touched him on his arm and led him to the back of the bus. The old man who'd intervened, and possibly saved Baker's life, gave him a quick education in Jim Crow. He'd been close. Stronger men had been lynched for less."