Then we hit the road and we’d get to places like Texas. This is when every place had “white” and “colored” to wait in the bus stations and the water fountains, all over America. You couldn’t stay in a white hotel anywhere. We played dances in New Orleans, and they’d have chairs straight down the middle of the thing with chairs to go both ways, white on this side and that side. Then the places in North Carolina and South Carolina, they’d have $2.50 and $3.50 general admission for the black people, white spectators $1.50. I still have the signs, you know. And they’d sit upstairs and drink and watch the black people dance, you know. It was unbelievable. We played juke joints and people would get shot and we’d go through Texas. We always had a white bus driver because we couldn’t stop in the restaurants. And sometimes we’d see effigies — like black dummies — hanging by nooses from church steeples in Texas. That’s pretty heavy, on the church steeple, and they’ve got a black dummy, which means “Don’t stop. Don’t even think about coming here,” and the bus kept moving. And then they’d finally get to places where we’d get the driver — the white driver would go in and get food for the band. And sometimes in Newport News we slept — I remember Jimmy Scott and I slept in a funeral parlor where the bodies were. There was no hotel so this guy said, “I’ve got a place. You can stay here these two days.” We got $17 a night. You’re not thinking about some suite at the Waldorf.