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used, but I didn't expect the avalanche.

Before the day was over I was just deluged with letters, telephone calls, denunciations, editorials that I had said the Southerners didn't wear shoes. Whenever I would appear in a Southern town, they would being to sing, “All God's Chillun' Got Shoes,” instead of “All God's Chillun' Got Wings.” They still think it's polite to twit me about it. I've had to learn to take it very calmly, be very sweet about it. I used to think that I would just have to claw somebody if they mentioned it, but I've gotten over that.

It was a terrible break. The point of it was that there was a publicity man, who's now dead and whom I've had to forgive since he is dead, though I did air my mind to him once. He had been retained by this Brooklyn society, not for my speech alone, but for the protection of the society's interest. He was present at the meeting and he wrote up the story. When I told him I thought it was terrible, he said, “Why I thought it was a very good line. It attracted attention.”

I said, “You bet it attracted attention!” Of course, he only meant it to attract attention around Brooklyn where he thought it would be good. I'm sure he was innocent and had no conception of how it would be taken.

Inwardly in my heart I looked for the subconscious