Growing Up White in Brassfield 1946: Every room in the funeral home was full. I guess Daddy knew about everybody in the county and the town. The grown men carried on something awful, laughing and talking about tobacco stripping and hog prices. Didn't they know my Daddy was dead? I always appreciated the fact that there was one entire room full of "colored people" at daddy's funeral. The entire community must have come out. Of course this was long before integration. They had no choice to where they sat. Seeing the whole collective bunch of neighbors there together made a great impact on my heart | Growing Up White In Brassfield A Memoir by Sally Pearson Congleton, Paperback | Indigo Chapters