Issue 132 — June 22, 2020
I first learned about the power of organizing to make change when I was about 15 years old. In the small town of Stamford, Texas, where I lived at the time, there were two short order restaurants in town. One was called Son’s City Pig and it had indoor tables with juke boxes where we kids could sit and kibitz, as teenagers do. And as teenagers were inclined to do, we created various fads. One was eating our French Fries with mustard. OK, I admit I started that one.
The owner of Son’s became annoyed that we were consuming so much mustard. He began charging us two cents for each little paper cup of mustard. We decided this was terrible injustice. Most of us just groused about it.
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