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It was about as hard as hard could ever be growing up in Raleigh, North Carolina, especially for colored people. Obidella Johnson hated the word “colored”. She had to admit that it was better than being called “Nigra”. Her family had it better that most folks. Her Mama was a pastry chef at La Fountain Bleu and made good money. Which would have been fine, if their daddy, a preacher, hadn’t run away with the head of the usher board and their mother hadn’t turned to drink to ease her pain. Obidella was thankful that her Mama didn’t drink during the day. She waited until she got off from work before touching a drop. It fell on Obidella to care for her little brother and sister and keep the house clean. She was also thankful that her Mama’s boss, Mr. Dave Mills, the richest white man in North Carolina, was in love with her Mama and looked the other way. Obidella prayed every day that God would send her daddy back home to take care of them. But, God said no. He had other plans for the Johnson family. Particularly, Obidella.
