Cross: Now, that’s just too much and I’ve said that some way they should have to be made to go back and pay us for all that time, but it’s a statute of limitation and I know it’s probably passed by now. All these people smiling in your face and treating us like that. Like Lufkin Daily News should have been paying me because I was keeping statistics from them. When I stopped keeping statistics they offered, along with the Houston Post, forty dollars a game to keep statistics for them and I said nope. I’m not going to keep no statistics. I’ve done it all this time and you didn’t pay me. That’s what, really, I think about all the time. That we working six days a week during football season and not getting paid, and the whites are working five days a week and they’re getting paid for everything that they are doing. Like superintendents smiling in your face and everybody going to church on Sunday, but they treating us like that. It’s just hard for me to stomach that when I found out all of that. Then I’m saying what else are they doing? You see? Then, when I got this duck. This is my retirement gift right here. That’s it. Then I see all these principals. I laugh and talk with them every time I see them. I say they gave me a duck when I retired. That’s all. Interviewer: What year was that when you retired? Cross: I can’t even think, but I got it in there on my thing, but I been retired twenty-five years. Subtract that from— Interviewer: Two thousand sixteen. Cross: So, I been retired twenty-five years, but I think I’ve been saying that for about two years. Interviewer: So late eighties? Cross: Yeah, somewhere along that. So, I just can’t believe that. I see them on the streets and things and I laugh and talk with everybody, but to think they let us work six days a week and we didn’t get a penny. We worked all our women. Every football game. They were on all the gates. Selling the tickets and doing all that. They didn’t let not one woman work the stadium. Not a one. Now, they might be in the snack bar or something. Women would be working there, but that would be some kind of organization. They never let their women, but all our women worked. Never got paid. So, it’s just something you have to live with, you know. I think some kind of way they ought to pay all of us. There’s not that many of us left from Dunbar, because—I think there’s about six teachers that are still living or something like that. A lot of them never did know it, that they were working free. Something else we had to do that we did, that the whites never did. When they go out of town, they would take everybody back to the high school and put them off and the parents picked them up at the high school. At Dunbar, we would bring them back to Dunbar and then we had busses designated: Lufkin land, Cedar Grove, North Lufkin and all the kids got on those busses and we took them all home. Put them out at their houses and when we got home it would be three thirty, four o’clock in the morning because we took every student to their house from out of town games. At the high school, they take them to the high school, drop them off, and their parents had to come get them. So many a days, I’d come in here— many a night, many a morning, it’d be three thirty, four o’clock once you drop all the kids off and we did that the whole time.