The following Saturday, I left my dorm early, signing out for College Park. For whatever reason, I didn’t tell anyone where I was going or what I was doing.

As instructed, I wore my Sunday dress, little black heels and all-purpose trench coat. My hair was done up in a neat French twist (remember that style?). 

CORE sent us out two to three in a car, plus driver. One car contained only CORE reps, so they could bail us out if necessary, I suppose, or act as witnesses to whatever happened.

The first time out, I was sent to the Little Tavern, in College Park. Frankly, I never wanted to eat there in the first place, but it was important to integrate any business that was part of a national chain. Three of us ordered hamburgers and sodas. No problem.

The next weekend, on my second time out, things got a bit dicey.
 
First of all, there was a young guy at the church who was itching to spend the night in jail. He had a guitar with him, and said he wanted to sing in jail. I just hoped I didn’t get stuck going out with this jerk, but I did.


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