![close up of snare drum player in marching band](https://hippocampusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/116019982-150x150.jpg)
We lived, my grandmother and I, next to the line that separated white from black. There was, in that time and place, no legitimate mixing of the societies. If I looked west from my yard along Bay Street, I could see the black side of Mullins, but I could never go there and had little reason to look. My life was on this side.