Country Ham. John Quincy MacPherson

kiss women in their private parts?’

      ‘Oh. My. God. Mary Margaret, what do you call them?’

      Mary Margaret laughed and said, ‘Shuga’, when I caught my breath, I called him, Precious!’”

      The poker room erupted in laughter.

      The conversation drifted to politics. It was an election year, and the North Carolina presidential primary had been held the previous Tuesday, the day of the Coach Groves incident. For that reason, Ham had not been able to participate in the first national vote for which he was eligible. All of the YMCA group were “yellow dog” Democrats. They would all rather vote for a yellow dog than vote for a Republican, though apparently Thom Jeff would also vote for a yellow dog before he voted for a black Democrat running for office. Thom Jeff had voted for George Wallace; everybody else had voted for the Georgia peanut farmer, Jimmy Carter. North Carolina’s favorite son, former governor Terry Sanford, had dropped out of the race before the primary season even began.

      “I like Carter,” Mack said. “Most of the church members down at Second Little Rock Baptist Church like Carter, too. And everybody is purty concerned, since Wallace beat Carter in South Carolina last month.”

      “I think Wallace will be out of the race soon enough,” Brother Bob predicted.

      “Wallace is a racist, Thom Jeff. In his ‘naugural address as governor, he said, ‘Segregation, now segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.’ How could you vote for him?” Carl asked.

      “No he’s not a racist. He’s a segregationist—”

      “What the hell is the difference?!” Carl demanded.