One word is consistently traced in large capital letters: “N***R.” Soon, more white fingers began to lift in front of windows across the bus. It presses down on the window’s condensation and engraves one letter at a time in the foggy surface. In the back of the bus, a single white index finger lifts and bends at the knuckle. With the walkway between them, they stare in silence out the giant front window watching the bus suck the road underneath its wheels. They reluctantly scoot over for Dres and Conji to sit down. We have to ask two people on the aisles in the middle of the bus if they don’t mind sitting three to a seat.” “The bus got silent as soon as we walked on,” Dres recalls.
#MOTHER SON CONJI SKIN#
Dres unconsciously rubs the brown skin on his forearm and looks back at his sister to make sure she’s good. Thumbs hooked into their backpack straps, they enter the bus and are immediately blinded by a bus full of white faces. Waiting in the cold rain at the next bus stop are 17-year-old Andres “Dres” Titus and his 13-year-old sister, Conji, who have just moved to town and are excited for the first day at their new school. It is 1984 in the predominantly white town of Sanford, North Carolina. He stares outside watching early morning rain showers as condensation forms on his window. Jesse Taylor keeps on steppin’ no matter what happens.Ī white teenage boy sits inside a moving school bus. Subscribe to the Passion of the Weiss on Patreon so we can continue to fund the realest writing in the music journalism universe like this 10,000 word opus on the creation of a legendary hip-hop group.
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