"SON! WAKE UP I Wake up l Son， wake up!"<br > My mother s voice came to me as though through<br >water. I could sense her urgency， but trying to wake<br >was like trying to save myself from drowning--or<br >rather， like having given up trying to save myself， sur-<br >rendering to it. Consciousness shone dimly above me，<br >like sunlight from under water， but after each effort to<br >rise to it， my tired mind sank back deeper into the<br >soothing dark.<br > "Son! Wake up! Wake up! Son， wake upV<br > I felt myself being shaken， as one is when he is<br >brought out of the water dying. I could no more wake<br >up than I could come back to life.<br > I had been permitted to stay up late the evening be-<br >fore， and the evening before that， to celebrate the Fourth<br >of July~ and I was just turned thirteen. I had never<br >before been wakened at three o clock in the morning.<br >THE FOURTH OF JULY fell that year--I937--on a Sun-<br >day. This， in a county town like ours， Clarksvflle， Texas，<br >meant that there was no Sunday that week but rather<br >two Saturdays.<br > Saturday in Clarksville was always a holiday， the day<br >when everybody came to town--Sundays when nobody<br >did. Children were free from school， and from Sunday s<br >sanctimonies and restraints. The stores， with all their<br >wares， their wonders， were open; and even when you<br >could not buy， you too could look. Food forbidden to<br >you all week you were allowed to buy from the street<br >vendors who appeared that day. Stand for just an hour<br >anywhere on the public square， and the tireless circling<br >of shoppers and strollers brought round to you in turn<br >~Q<br ><br >