Heaven, My Home, p. 94

“Forgiveness has a limit.”

It was a luxury black folks couldn’t afford . . .

Attica Locke, everybody.

Hopetown, Harris County, Texas

Heaven, My Home, p. 90:

  • There were no streets in this part of Hopetown, at least none that hadn’t been overgrown by time and wild grass, so there was nothing separating neighbor from neighbor back here; it was as if they all shared the same plot of land, were all one big family. In fact, Ray’s grandmother, a short, compact woman with a face bronzed and freckled with moles, came out on her front porch to receive the bag of pecans and hollered out to Mr. Page, “Eggs is gone, Leroy, Lou and her girls got ’em first, but I got a tray of redcorn pudding in the oven. We serving at six-thirty if you want to eat with us tonight.”

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