Buried the Right Way

My Name is Mary London, and this incident happened when I graduated high school in 1965.

A program was started in Amarillo, Texas, that was to help young people to get on-the-job training for file clerks, mail sorters, and answering the telephone. Some of us girls went to the program to get summer jobs. The white girls were called in first. When our turn came, they told us all they had left was cleaning houses! We went on and took the jobs.

The lady I received was a little old lady that came and got me. I had to sit in the back seat! When we got to her house, she followed me all through the house, making sure I didn't steal anything, and telling me how she didn’t like John F. Kennedy.

Finally, I got tired of hearing about Kennedy. I turned to her and said, “That's why they buried him on his stomach.”

She informed me that nobody was buried on their stomach! I told her he was the President of the United States, and he could be buried anyway he wanted to! She asked, “Why would they bury him on his stomach?”

My response was: "To tell people like you to kiss his ass!”

I was called a niggra and told to leave her house!