If These Walls Had Ears Read Online Free PDF Page B

into their Overland touring car and headed west from Memphis toward the
     site of Charlie’s latest incarnation. It was to take place in Little Rock, Arkansas. The family was moving so Charlie could
     try his hand in the hot new industry of soda-pop bottling.
    It looked like a sure bet for the times—especially now with Prohibition, when people couldn’t openly slake their thirst with
     beer. More than that, though, bottled soft drinks seemed a perfect response to the whimsy, the mobility, and the pleasure
     seeking of the 1920s. I can imagine Charlie bursting with anticipation. This was totally different from anything he had ever
     done, and yet it was right up his alley. He was a people person, and this was a people business. He had lots of ideas that
     he wanted to try. Everybody knew that men all over the country had gotten filthy rich owning Coca-Cola bottling plants. This
     wasn’t going to be that, exactly—Charlie was becoming a partner in something called Arkola, which had started in 1920 to take
     advantage of the cola craze. The company also bottled ginger ale and root beer. But the big reason Charlie was so excited
     was that the company had just landed the contract for Nu Grape, and this was going to be Charlie’s baby.
    It didn’t take the Armours long to find out that the most desirable neighborhood in Little Rock was a western suburb called
     Pulaski Heights. By this time, the Heights had become annexed to Little Rock. Charlie and Jessie took the family on a spin
     through the hilly, winding streets. The old trees—oaks and elms and walnuts and pines—formed canopies over the paved roadways.
     By now, there were different neighborhoods within the Heights itself, and commercial areas had sprung up at different points
     along the streetcar line. The area where Auten and Moss had built their homes was now called Hillcrest, and its commercial
     district included a beautiful two-story Spanish Gothic building that encompassed the town hall, the civic center, and five
     storefronts facing Prospect Avenue. Across the street was a fire station. The Heights was home to Little Rock College, to
     a Catholic girls’ school called Mount St. Mary’s, and to several elementary and junior high schools.
    Another big attraction to the Armours was an amusement park that some old-timers still called Forest Park but that had recently
     been refurbished and renamed White City. The ostensible reason for the name change was that all the structures had been painted
     a sparkling white, but the not-so-subtle message to Little Rock Negroes was no doubt considered a happy by-product. The park—which,
     the Armours learned, had originally been built to attract a streetcar line to the Heights—now featured an outdoor swimming
     pool that was a whole city block long and half a block wide. Parkgoers could even enjoy the recent invention called the “dodgem”—four
     padded cars with erratic steering and guaranteed collisions. The automobile culture had changed the park in other ways, too—White
     City now included a campground for tourists traveling by car.
    Charlie and Jessie liked what they saw. When they drove along Woodlawn Street, they found it a kind of church row. There were
     a Methodist, an Episcopal, and a Presbyterian church all within three blocks of one another. On down Woodlawn, there was even
     a Baptist church just where Woodlawn ran into Prospect. In Hillcrest, no matter what denomination you were, you could get
     up on a Sunday morning and
walk
to church if you wanted.
    It was time. Jessie knew it, and Charlie knew she knew it. It was time to dig in and make a stand, if ever they were going
     to do it. The stars hadn’t been so auspiciously aligned at any time during their eleven years of marriage. Building a house,
     which they would have to do, was a major commitment—especially for Charlie. It’s a frightening thing, especially for a man,
     to say, This is it. This is where I live and where I’m going