The sun sank low behind the layers of thick green leaves on the large, numerous trees that line every street in Webster [Groves]. The streetlights flickered on, making small circular halos of light around the [African American] cleaning ladies]. Mother looked her most movie star beautiful standing in her whiteness, laughing with them in the pale-yellow glow. Goodness, I thought, as I peered from my pubescent peanut gallery in the car, maybe Mother really is Grace Kelly.”
— Raking Leaves in the Wind/Chapter 13 – Jelly Roll Blues