Lines 15-18 most llearly ean that Stanton.. that society placed on women. abruptly discovered that just being a woman reduced her value in many people's eyes. was devastated to learn that even GrisOn thought less of her because she was a woman. slowly began to question whether women had fewer Tights than men because of their gender. ACT48G 33 TO THE NE T PAGE. Passage111 HUMANITIES: This passage is adapted from Ihe memolr Aly Heart Is in the Earlh., True Storles of Alabama and Mexico by Wayne Greenshaw (@2001 by Wayne Greenshawl. Hank Wllllafns was a popular singer and writer of country muslc in the 19408 and 50$. edge of the cold glass to keep from saying anything, feeling thc heat of all thÈir eyes on me. I wished we, d 50 nèyei seen the Cadillacs OT the men, and I wondered when Daddy was going to take us on down the road, where he said he had mole shops to call on. When I finally did glance up? I looked directly into the bluest eyes I'd ever seen on a His thin mouth 55 Stretched into a geneTOUS smile. "How's about you boys coming out here to the car with me??? He pushed his chair back. "I got some things for y'all,,, From the trunk of one of the pink Cadillacs he took two black-and-white eight-by-ten glossy photo- 60 graphs of himself, scratched out, "For Wayne, a fine young man," and signed it, then did the same for Donnie Lee, As we moved to Daddy's car, he called, "You got a Victrola?" I noddcd. Then he handed me a half-dozen 78 rpm records. "Y'all share em, okay?" I 65 nodded. In the summertimes of my youth, rny younger brother, Donnie Lee, and I rode with Daddy, a traveling salesman, when he traveled Alabama and east Missis- sippi, stopping at barber and beauty shops, bringing 5 them the latest stainletss steel razors, smelly perfumed wave lotion, the fancicst new dryers, and a tonic that would plaster hair to the scalp while turning it dark brown. It was on a highway in south Alabama that we 10 were passed one afternoon by a pink Cadillac with a pair of cowboy boots sticking out the rear window. "That's ol, Hank,, Daddy said. Donuie Lee and I looked at each other, puzzled. "In a minute or two there'll be another one just 15 like that,, Daddy said. Donnie Lee questi.oned his statement. But, sure enough, in a few minutes, the first car's twin, down to the snazzy fins shining brightly in the gunlight, passed us with a beep of its horn. Daddy 20 answered and shot an abbreviated wave. In the next town we found the two Cadillacs parked side by side facing the curb outside the drug- store. Daddy pulled his car parallel to thejll. We fol- lowed him inside, where a skinny man weuing a white 25 cowboy hat rose from the table where he sat with three friends and, 8Tinning from ear to ear, greeted Daddy like a Ion(s lost relative, They hugged and carried on, Daddy introducing us as his "number one assistants," and told us, '°Boys, this is Hank Williams, the most 30 famous singer &nd sontTwiiler ever to corne out of Georgiana." The skinny man hooted. "Now, that's about the best intioduction I've ever had,, he said, and ordered a round of soft drinks, which we accepted with thanks. 35 We slunk back on the edge of the shallow breeze from the slow moving fan centered over the marble-topped table. In the shadows of glass-squared display booths we sipped our drinks while the men talked about '°the road," Daddy asking where they'd played, Hank and his 40 boys saying they, d had a bxg crowd down in Andalusia the night before. With his bladed face cocked just so, the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat muting his features, Hank caughl my eyc and grinned and said, "What kind-a RllUSiC YOU 45 like, big 'un??? and I tried to hide behind my glass of soda, pushing back shyly against the glass case, 'Cat got yo, tongue?" he asked, and I put my mouth to the When we returned home to Trussville on Friday, Mama questioned us about our week with Daddy, We showed her the photographs, We took the records to our room. As the flrst started to play, Donnie Lee made a 70 face, I frowned and shook my head. In rnemory, that trip with Daddy unwinds in shades of black-and-white colored with a streak of pink. Today, as I listen to the powerful poetic slur of his music, hitting notes that even he could not find on 75 a scale between five parallel lines, sounding words that iing against the heart like coin8 dropped into a deep clear pool at the bottom of a deep dark cave, I am so moved that l am stunned alinost senseless with its beauty. Somewhere between then and now I Icarned to 80 fathom the depths of his genius. "Did you hear that lonesome whippoorwill? He sounds too blue to fly. The midnight 13 whining low. I'm so lonesome I could cry. How could any eleven-year-old ever ,know the 85 naked strength of such words prayed to such sounds? The plaintive voice cuts to the heart that knows the secrets of being twisted and torn, battered and bruised, where the scar-tissue (yrates against old feelings thal cannot-will not-remain hidden.
