17 Nov 75 0500
I am in a car (open?) driven by Diane proceeding down a street. Passing by, going the other way in another vehicle, a Negro boy grabs my hand and holds on. I tell Diane to keep going and not get pulled off center. Am pleased to continue without complication or difficulty.
Later, am in a locker room with my briefcase and another small case of overnight effects. A small Negro boy comes up and grabs my right leg. I look down and am annoyed. Try peeling him off, but he won't let go. I push on his head with the heel of my right hand against his face, but he is tenacious. Then my compassion is touched as I realize all he wants is a connection, and I reach down to scoop him up in my arms and hold him. He never says a word, but seems happy now. I leave the locker room and then realize I have left my overnight case. Return to pick it up.
It was this dream that transformed any residual prejudices about Blacks that I had growing up Mormon. Later that day I met Brother Taylor, pastor of The Greater Grace Memorial Church of God in Christ in south central Los Angeles (Watts district).