\"SON! WAKE UP I Wake up l Son， wake up!\"
My mother s voice came to me as though through
water. I could sense her urgency， but trying to wake
was like trying to save myself from drowning--or
rather， like having given up trying to save myself， sur-
rendering to it. Consciousness shone dimly above me，
like sunlight from under water， but after each effort to
rise to it， my tired mind sank back deeper into the
soothing dark.
\"Son! Wake up! Wake up! Son， wake upV
I felt myself being shaken， as one is when he is
brought out of the water dying. I could no more wake
up than I could come back to life.
I had been permitted to stay up late the evening be-
fore， and the evening before that， to celebrate the Fourth
of July~ and I was just turned thirteen. I had never
before been wakened at three o clock in the morning.
THE FOURTH OF JULY fell that year--I937--on a Sun-
day. This， in a county town like ours， Clarksvflle， Texas，
meant that there was no Sunday that week but rather
two Saturdays.
Saturday in Clarksville was always a holiday， the day
when everybody came to town--Sundays when nobody
did. Children were free from school， and from Sunday s
sanctimonies and restraints. The stores， with all their
wares， their wonders， were open; and even when you
could not buy， you too could look. Food forbidden to
you all week you were allowed to buy from the street
vendors who appeared that day. Stand for just an hour
anywhere on the public square， and the tireless circling
of shoppers and strollers brought round to you in turn
~Q
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