“It’s a shame that making room for white folks mean the rest of us have to go. But it’s always been that way, hasn’t it?” She had no reason to disagree with him—the closing of the shop had devastated her, too. The end of Grand Records had been the end of Ralph Grand, and not only because the accident was shortly after. If the store hadn’t closed, he would have taken the bus there, he would have used a cane to hobble down the aisles, he would have more to do than play his records and smoke his pipe, drink, and sit around and wait to die. Ralph had always expected her to listen to him and agree,
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