CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It didn’t seem possible - I was in a Pullman sleeper car! As I lounged on my bed, I relived in my mind all the details and events of the evening. The people, their dialect, the scenery – all were my first introduction to the South, and a great one at that.
One thing did strike me as odd, however. Although the passengers were very polite, they seemed to treat the n*****s as if they were of a different class. In Wabash, I had never heard anyone call a n***o, “boy,” which made me feel very uncomfortable. The attendant, who appeared to be older than Mr. Boudreaux, had not reacted in any way to the use of that word, but the term seemed disrespectful to me. It also seemed incongruous to be coming from a man as friendly and educated as Mr. Boudreaux.
The waiter Mr. Boudreaux ha
