When we married, she was determined that she wanted to stay in the South, that she wanted to be a teacher. Now the interesting thing was I had no real nasty racial experiences growing up. I could deal with the segregation, and I could always slide by and get along. That wasn’t true of her, it wasn’t true of Coretta Scott King. Her family had earned land out of the Reconstruction, so they were a wealthy rural family that had three or four businesses. When she was about 12 years old, white people found a way to swindle her family, her grand-uncle, out of the businesses, and on some kind of trumped-up charges. It was so depressing to her grandfather that he committed suicide, and her daddy became an alcoholic. And her mother, who was a teacher — her superintendent, realizing she was vulnerable and very attractive, tried to flirt with her and she hit him with an umbrella to beat him off. She got fired and was blacklisted and had to go two counties away to find a job. So that when Jean was like 12 years old, she was not only walking three miles to school, most of the time running, but she had to come home and cook and take care of her father, and she was very bitter about race. Now, Coretta had the same kind of experience. I mean, Coretta’s father had three different businesses that were destroyed by white people: a trucking company, a sawmill, and a grocery store. They were all sabotaged or burned because it was a county that resented black people having progress, being able to progress and being hard workers. So both Coretta and Jean were more committed, I think, to get into the struggle to do something about race than either me or Martin.