Patsy Remembers

STORIES FROM MY CHILDHOOD, Part Two

“From the Mouths of Babes”

I was born into a segregated world in Gladewater, Texas in 1938. My parents moved to Fort Worth, Texas, another segregated place, in 1939. I don’t know that I heard the word “segregation” until the Civil Rights movement of the late 1950's culminating in the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. I’m sure that most of you studied the Civil Rights movement in school, but that is not what this article is about. This is about my personal experiences with racial segregation in Texas from my birth until the election of an African-American president in 2008.

First, I’ll give an overview of my life as a child. I lived in a segregated neighborhood, learned at a segregated school, worshiped at a segregated church, saw movies at a segregated theater (not totally segregated; the African-Americans could watch from the third balcony reached by climbing some outside stairs), ate out at segregated cafes and restaurants, and played at segregated parks, swimming pools, bowling alleys, etc., etc., etc. Whites were even buried in segregated cemeteries. None of this seemed unusual to me then.

I also need to address the topic of language. We didn’t call people African-Americans, Mexican-Americans, Cuban-Americans or any of those other hyphenated names. African-Americans were called “Negroes” or “Colored”. Mexican-Americans were called “Mexicans”. Those were the polite, respectful names that were used. The names Blacks, Hispanics, Afro-Americans, Latinos, or Chicanos all came later. We all know what the impolite and disrespectful names were. In this piece, I will refer to African-Americans as Negroes or Colored, because that is what they were called in Southern society during the 1930's and the 1940's.


I have fond memories of my mother and I riding the bus to downtown Fort Worth, TX to shop. In the 1950's. We rode the bus because we didn’t have a car yet. This was before the days of malls, so all of our shopping was done at the large department stores downtown. When we boarded the bus, we automatically sat in the seats in the front of the bus. The seats from the back door to the very back were for the Negroes or Colored people.

We shopped at large department stores. There were no discount stores like Walmart or Target back then. I was always fascinated by the two drinking fountains located between the elevators. They appeared to be identical, but one was labeled “White” and one “Colored.” I wondered what would happen if a person drank out of the wrong one, but no one ever did. Of course, there were also four restrooms, two for White women and White men and two for Colored Women and Colored men. “That seemed like a waste of space to me and still does.” Every public place, including the train station and bus station had this same arrangement of restrooms and waiting rooms.


Colored people had certain swimming pools, parks, and restaurants that they could use. The eating places where they were allowed were located in what we called “Colored Town.” At a few Whites- only restaurants, Coloreds could order food to go at a back window and stand outside until it was ready to take out. One highly popular barbecue place was called The Big Apple and was located in Colored Town. The odd thing was that Whites could eat there but Coloreds couldn’t except for the “to go” window outside.

After I graduated from high school in 1956 and Baylor U. in 1960, I started teaching Government in high school in San Antonio, Texas. In 1964, I was teaching seniors in High School. We were studying about the Civil Rights movement, and I told my students about my experiences growing up in a segregated society. I felt that I had done a good job of explaining to them about segregation. Most of the students seemed to be really enthralled by my account.

The class was quiet when I finished. Finally, one of my students raised his hand and said,

“Well, Mrs. Thompson, what did you DO?”

I stood silently for a few moments and finally said, “Nothing.”