Thursday, January 6, 2011

When We Were Negroes

1 comment:

  1. Now the censorship of Huck Finn makes sense: this publisher's bio shows he was in bed (figuratively, but who knows, maybe literally) with Southern Poverty Law Center. Thanx to Carol & Jim for this.
    -BZ

    Jim:
    Read this bio written by the man who is publishing the new sanitized version of Huck Finn. Clearly he has no agenda and is just doing it to preserve the genius of Twain for coming generations...Ha!
    =========
    The 90-Second Autobiography of Horace Randall Williams
    I was born (1951) and mostly raised in Chambers County, Alabama, a place which also pro-
    duced Joe Louis, one of our country’s greatest black athletes, and Cotton Tom Heflin, one of our
    greatest racist demagogues.You figure it.
    My people, on both sides of the family, were mostly dirt farmers and cotton mill workers.They
    married young and had big families; I have fifty first cousins.
    In due time, I graduated from LaFayette High School and enrolled (1970) in Samford Univer-
    sity, a small, conservative, Baptist institution in Birmingham, Alabama.
    I married.Young. So was she. It was the thing to do.
    I intended to become a lawyer but liked English and then history and then journalism and be-
    came editor of the school newspaper. A conflict with the school president over the definition of news
    cost me my scholarship in my senior year and I never graduated.
    I became a professional journalist and worked as a reporter and editor and publisher for daily
    and weekly newspapers. I also freelanced; I do not recommend it as a career.
    I had been raised as a racist and a religious fundamentalist but for reasons I cannot fully articu-
    late I had abandoned both of these philosophies. I had become — yes — a liberal.
    I went to work (1976) for a liberal organization, the Southern Poverty Law Center. I produced
    the Center’s publications and investigated cases. I was almost a lawyer after all.
    I had my mid-life crisis early. I divorced. I took a leave of absence from my job. I extended it. I
    moved to North Carolina to work with the Institute for Southern Studies.
    I moved to Georgia to help start a newspaper.The newspaper went bust. I freelanced some
    more. I still don’t recommend it.
    The Southern Poverty Law Center said my leave of absence had lasted long enough. I went back
    and organized the Klanwatch Project. I watched and wrote about racists. I was good at it. I under-
    stood them.
    I could only watch racists for so long.They eventually depressed me. It would have happened to
    anybody. I quit my job (1986).
    I went into business for myself. I wrote and edited and designed newsletters, magazines, news-
    papers, and books. I began a non-fiction book about contemporary racists. I also began a book of
    fiction about an Alabama governor. A short governor. Sometimes I still have trouble separating the
    two books.
    Some years ago I published a book for another writer. One book led to two.Then four.Then ten.
    Now I am a book publisher. Sometimes I turn ink into magic. Other times I just murder trees.
    Four hundred books later, the manuscripts keep coming. Everyone I ever met wants me to pub-
    lish his book. Oprah will love it, she says.
    I like my job. Deep down, I am still looking for the heart of Dixie.The search will take time.
    Meanwhile I can work any seven days of the week I choose. I intend to keep doing this till the money
    runs out. I tell my two sons, one day this will all belong to you.They have always known to laugh
    when I say this. So it goes.
    I still live in Alabama.

    Via Billy

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