A conversation transcribed verbatim from a Christmas visit to family Down South.
“Oh, Donna, I read in the newspaper a few weeks ago and forgot to tell you, about a man who graduated the same year you did. James Ranfin?”
“I knew a Larry Ranfin, Mother.”
“Oh, maybe it was James Larry Ranfin.”
“Well, the guy I’m thinking of is black.”
“That might have been him. Anyway, he’s dead now.”