William Redd

I was asked to come by the police.  This lady had taken her man’s car and she wasn’t a good driver, in fact she could hardly see.  So she takes it from 11th Street and she comes down through Page Street and she hit two cars at 4th Street.  So I’m running down the street after because I heard the car went and left my aunt’s yard.  I’m running and she driving.  By the time I got there, there’s the police, because I got to walk all the way from.  So the police say, “We’re going to have to put you in jail, ma’am.”  I say, “Well, can I take the car back home?”  “Yeah, take the car, but we need you to come down to court on so-and-so date.”  So I go in there that morning, two days later, I can’t remember exactly.  And I’m 16 years old maybe, 17.  And I’m sitting in the court.  I was the first one in there because I had to go to school.  So I’m sitting in there.  And you know how you sense somebody behind you?  I look up.  There’s a police officer.  “You can’t sit there.  You got to get up and move.”  “Where do I move to?”  “Right across the hall.”  There was a walkway between.  That’s — Blacks had to sit over here, the whites sit right there.