African American

and after going through a bunch of them we settled on Georgia-- a black woman who grew up on the cotton fields somewhere in the Carolinas, I think.

Georgia was marvelous. Not just hard working, but perfectly centered and so honest that when my father died she was the one my mother entrusted the valuables to. Georgia would have defended not just the valuables, but us, with her life, if it came down to that. Georgia was also of invaluable support while my father was dying.

One day she announced she was going back home down South. "It's not you", she said, "it's just that down there, as bad as it is, when I walk down the street at least I know where I stand."