You Read It Here First: Conversations with Today’s Authors, Part 1


Christina Hamlett conducted this interview with me for You Read It Here First.  If you are interested in books and authors please visit  

Our interview begins:

Q: A lot of the best writers often declare that they were voracious readers growing up. Was this the case with you? If so, who were some of the authors whose books we might have found on your nightstand in high school?

A: I had two passions growing up.  One was riding my horse and the other was reading.  My students often don’t like to read, but it’s the best way to flights of fantasy and trips to foreign lands.  In high school I took a class called Advanced Reading.  We had to read books from a list colleges would expect us to know and we kept a journal of our responses.  My favorite author was/is John Steinbeck.  My father used to play in Zane Grey’s backyard and he wrote about the West, so he was a usual companion.  I enjoyed the breadth and detail in books by Tolstoy.

Q: What/who are you reading now?

A: My husband and I are reading The Thurber Carnival by James Thurber aloud to one another.  I have just finished Ken Follett’s Winter of the World, book two in his Century Trilogy.  South Carolina: A History by Walter Edgar helps me understand the “whys” of my book.  I am just beginning Carol Ruth Silver’s Freedom Rider Diary: Smuggled Notes from Parchman Prison. 

Q: Was the craft of writing something that came easily to you when you were a student at Ponderosa (coincidentally, our shared alma mater)?

A:  I was a very successful English student.  I loved the little creative writing I did.  However, I couldn’t get the knack of writing essays and reports until I started teaching.

Q: What did you imagine yourself doing as a career after graduation and who or what was the strongest influence in shaping that dream?

A:  I didn’t know “what I wanted to be.”  Cowboy was high on my list and I had great math skills.  I needed more information on what the possibilities were.  You and I went to a small high school with limited offerings.  I transferred to the University of California Berkeley.  Their schedule of classes filled a book.  I didn’t even know what many of the words meant.  I’d found the place to discover what the possibilities were.

Q: Where did your passion for civil rights begin and what led you to volunteer?

A:  I blame an English teacher and my book is dedicated to him.  Television brought all the pain and suffering of the Civil Rights Movement into our living room.  My English and social studies teachers considered it their responsibility to get us to pay attention.  Bruce Harvey, the Advanced Reading English teacher asked the class what we were willing to die for.  It was a rhetorical question for most of the students.  Not for me.  I wanted to know.  When I arrived at UC Berkeley I was quite aware that the answer to that question was part of the possibilities I would consider.

Two events moved me.  One was in 1964 and, in the world of civil rights, it was called Freedom Summer.  Black civil rights organizations recruited white college students to go to the Deep South to register black voters.  Mississippi and Alabama had made it absolutely obvious that they would not allow integration and that they did not mind terrorizing and killing blacks to keep it from happening.  Civil rights organizations like the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) thought that if white college students were beaten and killed on television, racists might back down.  This was a miscalculation.  Three voter registration workers, Mickey Schwerner, James Chaney and Andrew Goodman, disappeared in Mississippi.  Schwerner and Goodman were white and Chaney was black.  It was forty-five days before their bodies were found, killed by the Ku Klux Klan.  How could that happen in my country?

The second event was the Selma March in March of 1965.  Six hundred blacks, men, women, children and old folks determined to march from Selma, Alabama, fifty-four miles to the statehouse steps in Montgomery to get down on their knees to pray for the right to vote.  They never got out of Selma.  They were stopped by a wall of police on horseback, carrying clubs, guns, and teargas.  The beatings were so severe and so widespread the day is known as Bloody Sunday.  Something in me snapped.  I was now eighteen and when Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke at colleges asking for volunteers for a second Freedom Summer, I signed up with his Southern Christian Leadership Conference.

Q: You were only eighteen, white middle-class and educated when you arrived in Pineville, South Carolina. You write that you were simultaneously horrified and overwhelmed. Why?

A:  My parents were struggling to be middle class.  Even so, I had a horse.  We could come and go as we pleased.  We had food, a warm home and, even though my mom made most of my clothes, all the clothes we needed.  We had medical care.  My dad had a car and, although it was an old clunker, my mom had one, too.  When I was accepted to Berkeley my mom had to get a job at the post office to pay my way.  We did not get what we wanted when we wanted it – sometimes we never got “it.”

The black world of South Carolina was the opposite of what I had known.  In Charleston I learned that black people did not have health care when I met a woman dying with a rotting leg that could be smelled for blocks.  Flies flew around a sore full of pus and her leg ballooned below it.  I was sure “someone” in the black community would do something.  I was told to report the problem to the church and they would do the best they could.

People were starving, barefoot, overworked and illiterate.  They had mules and wagons, not cars.  Most had no electricity or telephone in their tumbledown cabins, some of which had existed during slavery.  Plumbing was outside including the pump for water.  They were controlled by the white power structure and the Ku Klux Klan.  We were there to help them register and vote because until they did, nothing would change.

Q: Knowing that three volunteers had been murdered during Freedom Summer in 1964, how did your family react to your wanting to leave a sheltered upbringing in Northern California and immerse yourself in the thick of poverty, racism, illiteracy and Ku Klux Klan violence?

A: Remember the adage, “You reap what you sow.” I’m afraid that is where they found themselves.  They taught us to do what we thought was right.  If we believed it, we had to commit to it.  They had no idea where that philosophy would lead.  They didn’t preach at my brother and me, they modeled the behavior for us.  So, when I showed up and said I was going south, they were in a hard place.  They were afraid.  They were angry.  They gulped and backed me up.

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