My father told me many times that you've got to play the hand that's dealt you. Learn how to get along with people. Always make things better than they were. Rise above the bitterness. That served me well. It wasn't always easy, though. Tell you a story from my days in the Negro Leagues. We were traveling from Montgomery to Birmingham one afternoon. Hot as hell, and we came upon this café that was built on a terrace. We pulled the bus off the road, and a few of us got out. A white lady was serving people, and when she saw us, she started shakin' her head. I said, "Why you shakin' your head, ma'am? You don't even know what we want." "I don't give a damn," she said. "Whatever you want, I don't have any. The answer is no." "Well," I said, "that's too bad, because we only wanted to buy a hamburger or a hot dog. But mainly what we wanted was a cool glass of water." "I'm not going to sell you anything," she said. "But if you want some water, there's a well in the back." So we went back to the well and hoisted up a bucket of water. There was a gourd nearby. We drank from this gourd, then walked back to the bus to head on down the road. When I looked back, I saw this woman breaking the gourd that we'd drunk out of, smashing it into little pieces.