I'm still trying hard to finish my memoirs called Plantation Native. Yes, Plantation Native. Get my drift? I just turned 74 and I have lived here in the Anchorage/Southcentral area since 1957, when streets were gravel roads. There were about 65,000 souls here then. It wasn't too bad. Now, it's a hell hole full of bigots and racists. They're all over these pages whenever a Native story, good or bad, shows up. I take them on and don't back down. Amazing that I am still, still expected to say: Yazzah massah, how high massah or get hammered on. To this day. But I refuse, flat out refuse to do so. OOO, makes the bigots madder than all hell and whoa they go for the juggler. I'll finish my book yet. Plantation Native.