Granny breathed heavily again wiped his eyes with a handkerchief, paused and continued: - So you Marinochka, with the mother of luck. I did not want it to help you with life and it left you with nothing after death. - Why do not you call the neighbors and was not informed that she had died? - And where to call that? We in the private sector do not have phones. Baba Zina wrote me a letter, and it probably did not happen. Somewhere in the mail got lost. - I bought you a cell. - The neighbors did not have my number. Yes, I'm with them is not particularly talked. Everything is new. All the old tenants mostly dispersed. They drove the other, and they do not communicate what they do not want to shake hands. Your mother in me last year already, even at the threshold would not let me. What I called at her door - did not even open. Only the window with someone of his companions look and gestures me to piss off and never came. It is already quite degraded. I somehow knocked to one neighbor, new, wanted to know, what's his neighbor is faring, and how he found out I was the mother of his drunken neighbor, so he became a three-story mat cover me. Horror easy! I got none of that. Although it is difficult to say that for anything. It's such a ne'er-do-I's daughter raised.
Southern Black Women in the Modern Civil Rights Movement
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