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The summer of 69 was a summer of momentous events.
Russia was involved in a border conflict on the brink of war.
Inflation was the highest it'd been in nearly 20 years.
And women didn't have the right to choose.
Glad we don't live in those times anymore.
Anyway, for my southern family, summer used to bring barbecues, road trips.
Everybody needs a bathroom, right?
Me first. I'll just go in the bushes.
And games.
If you're on my property where I have a house, you pay me rent.
If you can't pay, you go to jail.
He wasn't even playing the game, y 'all.
But what made the summer of 69 different was that I spent it in New York City
with my dad.
He was writing songs for Marvin Gaye, and I was trying to make new friends.
Unfortunately, neither of us had succeeded in the month we'd been here.
I knew it'd been a month because I was on my fourth pair of underwear.
Is that Mama on the phone? Can I talk to her?
Hey, Mom, guess what? That's enough. You know how expensive long distance is.
Are things going better with your songwriting?
No. I haven't even met Marvin yet. You want me to take a boudoir picture for
and send it to you for inspiration?
I can get it developed tomorrow and rest a living. You'll have it five days
later. I'm not going to say no to that.
Sexting may have taken longer then, but at least the guy couldn't claim, I sent
that by accident.
But nothing's working.
These songs are so bad, Pat Boone wouldn't even do them. Maybe we should
come back home.
I haven't even ridden a taxi yet. Ridden?
I couldn't even get one to stop for me until 96. You are Bill Williams, the
baddest songwriter there is.
In Alabama?
Anywhere. And if you let New York get to you, you'll never forgive yourself.
You're right about that.
And don't worry about things here. Everything is just like you left it.
Now help me get rid of the rest of your father's old stuff. Why does he even
have most of this? Child, you know that man can't let go of nothing.
It's like a baby with a fistful of hair.
Lillian, thank God.
All these houses look like this is the fourth door I'm knocked on.
Jackie!
You know, you have some rude neighbors. I mean, just because it's not the right
house doesn't mean I can't use the bathroom.
Jeez.
Jackie was mom's sister, and they were polar opposites, which is why
she was our favorite relative.
We didn't see her often, and whenever she was in town, it usually meant she
needed money.
What brings you into town?
I'm just passing through, girl, but don't worry. I don't need nothing. So
can tell Bill he doesn't have to hide his cash or his liquor.
Bill's out of town.
Well, in that case, where's his cash and liquor?
Oh, I'm choking.
Where you off to now?
And whose car is that?
My boyfriend, Keith's. You remember him. We used to call him Pooh Star.
Anyway, he let me borrow it so I can go to Tuscaloosa tomorrow night to see a
friend perform at a new nightclub.
Nightclub?
You told me Tuscaloosa only had the University of Alabama and churches.
Hush. So I was stopping by to see if you guys wanted to come with me. Oh, you
ain't said nothing but a word.
Now, hold on, Kim. We can't just up and leave.
We're having a yard sale tomorrow.
Oh, that's what this is?
I thought y 'all were getting evicted. You just don't want to go because Daddy
will get mad.
I'm not afraid of your father.
Oh, is that why you waited for him to go to New York before selling his stuff?
Oh.
You know what?
Go pack a bag for the trip.
Oh, that's my girl!
I'm just going to make sure the phone is hung up and Bill is not still on the
line.
Dad's goal was to sell a song to Marvin Gaye. My goal was to make New York
friends. We dodged trolleys, played stickball, danced choreographed numbers.
Okay, so my knowledge of New York comes from timeless musicals. So what?
I'll be home by five.
Don't leave the house.
Don't answer the door.
Don't answer the phone. Don't turn the stove. Don't spend all day watching TV.
So far, the most exciting things I'd done was watch my dad go to work and
two rats fight over an egg roll, which I later discovered was another rat.
But this was new.
I certainly had no context for a man wearing a dress.
I mean, in Alabama, we had plenty of church ladies with mustaches, sure. But
that didn't count.
Stop staring.
Here comes Alabama.
Bag all you want. I'm gonna sock it to Marvin. He gonna love this one. Me
he's probably got a banjo.
I couldn't believe the blatant disrespect they showed my dad because we
from Alabama.
I mean, it's not like we're from Mississippi.
Wait till you hear this one.
When I'm in your arms.
Stop, stop. I'm gonna stop you right there.
But I haven't got to the best part yet. You know who else isn't gonna get to the
best part?
Anybody listening?
Marvin's here.
Hey, what's happening, fella?
I'm loving the new material.
Thanks, Marvin.
Here's more where that came from.
Missing.
Damn, Alabama.
What? It's not my fault that it's a catchy nickname.
Armstrong is on the moon. Neil Armstrong.
38 -year -old American. Dean, I need your help.
The guys in the studio said my music wasn't what the kids are dancing to, so
need you to let me know when I'm on to something.
Okay, sure, I guess.
Okay.
Oh, you need a better rhyme for this ooh sound.
There's a poo -poo, boo -boo, poo -poo.
You're not even trying.
I'm sorry, Dad, but the moonwalk's about to happen live, and you're going to
make me miss it. Fine.
We can watch the moonwalk.
But afterwards, we work on songs.
How do we even know if this is real?
You can't believe everything you see on TV.
And how does a government have enough money to send a bunch of white guys to
moon but can't pick that stoplight on 4th and Kent?
How do we know who's in those suits? They probably switched out the white
astronauts for black ones in case something go wrong.
You see, before Twitter, old men just had their sons to yell crazy theories
But if it is real...
Them cats are the baddest dudes around.
Can't give up until we make it to the moon.
Dad couldn't help but be inspired.
Just like I was inspired to take my own giant step.
Tomorrow, I'm going to sneak out while Dad's gone and explore New York and make
new friends. And if I get caught, well, at least I know I can run away and live
on the moon. Ha! Let's see Daddy try to whoop me from there.
We're just going to Tuscaloosa and coming right back. We know.
Are you seeing what I'm seeing?
I am, but we don't have time. Puss is dark.
Girl, those pups look right. We can make wine with them. Yeah, can.
Are you sure we're allowed to do this?
Mm -hmm. Me and your mama used to do this all the time growing up.
So, how do you know this friend we're going to see?
From around... Around where?
Around where we was.
What's with all the questions?
You should hear the questions I had to answer about what I was wearing to a
political rally.
She was the same way with me. Y 'all two ain't gonna be ganging up on me out
here picking plums. Uh -oh, ain't.
When the grammar goes, you know she's about to pop.
One time, she actually cussed. Hush your mouth!
You can tease all you want, but there is never an excuse for improper language.
There was nothing scarier to us than the angry face of a white police officer.
Unless, of course, it was the angry face of a black police officer.
You see, black officers couldn't really arrest white people. So when we ran
afoul of a black officer, he might be very eager to assert his authority.
Enough said.
Put the plums back on the tree!
Jackie, let me do the talking.
Hello, officer.
My name is Lillian Williams, and I'm from Montgomery, and I work for the
just like you.
Y 'all have some House Negro code or something?
Shut up. No, let me handle this.
Did you know that this vehicle's been reported stolen?
It's my boyfriend Keith's car.
You would have a boyfriend who steals cars.
Keith Freeman is the person who reported it stolen.
Jackie, you stole this car from your boyfriend?
Oh, what?
I mean, yes, fine.
We had a fight.
I caught him cheating and I want to teach him a lesson.
Jackie. I mean, that's why I wanted to go see my friend Toby Jenkins play
tonight. I mean, what's good for the goose is good for the gander. Wait, you
guys on your way to see Sweet Tea Jenkins?
That's going to be a good show.
I'm on my way there, too.
As soon as I take you guys into the station.
I snuck out of the apartment as soon as Daddy left for work.
Finally ventured out into the city.
The sight, the sound, the smell.
In Alabama, when someone says street food, they usually mean roadkill. And it
didn't smell anywhere near as good as this.
Yeah, I didn't know what that was about. But I was in New York, baby.
Hi, my name's Dean. Where'd you get them shoes?
Can you fight?
I couldn't fight, but I'm pretty sure I deafened them with my scream as they
stole my shoes and belt.
Damn it.
God, I hid my key in my shoe.
Houston, we have a problem.
Got yourself locked up, didn't you?
Oh, the guy in the dress.
Dad had told me not to stare, but he also told me to always look adults in
eye when I spoke to him. You got me in the spin cycle, Dad.
Uh, yeah, I must have left my key inside.
Hmm. You don't sound like you from around here.
I'm from Alabama.
Montgomery. It's the capital.
Child, I know where Montgomery is. I'm from Union Springs.
Oh, you're from the country.
It says the boys sit outside with no shoes on.
Touché. I'm Lonnie.
I'm Dean. Well, Dean, you better hope your daddy comes back before dark,
the rats started to defeat me and work their way up.
Three hours and two rats later...
You still here?
Yeah. Aren't you brave?
You hungry?
I bet it's been a while since you had some good southern cooking, huh?
Maybe a little.
Lucky for you, I've made too much for just me.
Oh,
look at this. I got some slippers in here, too.
I guess I'll just sit here until you finish.
Get my plate back, of course.
Where's your dress, sweetheart?
Did you run out of lipstick?
I felt bad for him. Lord knows I knew what it was like to be teased. Should I
say something?
Should I tell him just to ignore the... Get back here, you little punks!
No, he got this.
Give me your slipper.
Give me your slipper!
New look, even for you, Jackie.
I'm afraid we have to impound the vehicle.
Now, the release paperwork may take a little while since two of you have
previous arrests on your records.
Two of us?
Well, ain't nobody surprised. I've been arrested before, and I haven't been.
Damn it, I thought they got it expunged. Brilliant!
I was in college, so it barely counts.
Before I go to college, can I get that in writing?
After all these years of making me feel like the black sheep of the family.
Well, first of all, I never called you that. Might as well have. But what did
you do?
Sit in.
Campus protest.
Freedom rider.
A bunch of us ran across the yard, butt naked, right in front of a statue of
Booker T. Washington.
It was pledging. It was a sorority prank.
Don't laugh.
I was terrified.
They put us in handcuffs and everything.
Thought I was going to end up on the chain gang, married to a woman like
Mabley.
Perfect, Lillian, is an ex -con.
Well, I'm not an ex -con, but I'm certainly not perfect either.
I guess we're not so different like I thought after all these years.
Kim Williams, your paperwork's done.
You can leave now.
I'll see y 'all at home.
You just gonna leave?
How you gonna get there?
I had to ride with a nice police officer.
Please get me out of here with these criminals.
Ding, what are you doing outside?
Hey, Dad.
This is Lonnie. I locked myself out, so he stayed out here with me until you got
home.
Much appreciated.
Name's Bill.
You look familiar. We actually bumped into each other earlier when I was on my
way back from rehearsal.
Dressed for my show in the village?
Right. The village.
I didn't really know what my dad and Lonnie weren't saying.
I was just happy to have met somebody from back home.
Plus, my toes were in fuzzy cotton heaven.
And were you auditioning for a show?
Oh, uh, some kids robbed me, so Lonnie let me wear these.
Hey, he's been robbed. Now he's a real New Yorker.
Well, thanks again.
Dean, give Lonnie back his wardrobe and say thank you. Let's go.
Bill, can I offer you some dinner? Oh, I don't know about what's that.
A cocktail?
Tastes just like Mama's.
No pressure. I'm sure you guys got a refrigerator full of good old down -home
food. Well, we got bologna and potatoes.
We probably shouldn't be rude.
I'll take you up on the offer.
Then it's settled.
Come on up.
Stop it. Your grandmother did not live on Bibb Street in Tuskegee. My dad's
grandmother lived on Bibb Street.
Yeah, I'm telling you. The house was so tiny, the front door was the back door.
Well,
maybe we're cousins somewhere down the line. It is a small world.
Well, my grandmother did, so we'll never know.
Well, you two are both performers from Alabama. I'm surprised you haven't heard
of each other.
Yeah, we probably wouldn't have played the same places.
Um, maybe Lonnie can give you some tips since he used to perform in New York?
I'd love to give you some tips, only if you want them. Well, my dad's been
trying to fill a phone to Marvin Gaye, but he's not good.
Dean. Tell him about the phone he sent a truck. Dean, don't be embarrassed.
When I first got to New York, I searched for what felt like forever for what my
act was going to be.
No one wanted to hear Lonnie Edmonds beat Porter about politics, but they
hearing Sybil Disobedience lip -sync about it.
Sybil Disobedience. I see what you did there.
Well, there's nothing, really.
I've got to figure out a way to tap into a different groove than I'm used to.
I've got something I want you to try.
White folks call it primal screaming.
It's supposed to tap into stuff your conscious mind pushed away.
All you got to do is scream as loud as you can from deep inside.
You want my dad to scream?
Just tell me you lost a nickel. You want me to scream?
In the kitchen?
Yeah.
Look, I'll do it with you.
One, two, three.
I just felt something.
I was actually screaming because I saw a rope so big it should
have been paying rent.
But I'm glad this was helping Daddy.
Yeah.
Yeah, this is good.
Yeah, this is good, man. This is good. Look, there's something else I want you
to try. Come into my bedroom.
Where my clothes are.
Right.
That's how we do it down south.
Speak your mind.
Say how you feel.
Take off your cool baby.
Just keep it real.
Sing something true.
Sing it out loud.
That's how we do.
Okay, not bad, not bad at all. It's called Southern Hospitality, because
how we do it in Alabama.
I don't believe we met, Marvin.
Bill, I was just playing these cats a song I wrote especially for you. Well,
me hear what you got, man.
All right.
His new look was temporary, of course, but the success wasn't.
Dad sold Southern Hospitality to Marvin Gaye and the floodgates opened from
there.
After that, Alabama took on a different meaning in the studio.
I'd accomplished my goal of making a friend in New York City.
but not in the way I'd expected.
I taught Lonnie everything I knew about the Apollo mission, and he introduced me
to New York things like Broadway shows.
Well, off -off -Broadway, mainly.
And when his piano player got sick, Daddy even filled in at his show.
Now, I was grown before I understood why Lonnie had to move all the way to New
York before he could finally be himself.
But meeting him helped me enjoy my time there.
He and Daddy fell out of touch after a while.
But I hope one day Lonnie was able to finally go back to Alabama, Boa and all.
I'd have to say it was the best summer ever.
Now that's how we do it.
But Daddy could tell it was time to pack our bags and go home. Dean, pack your
bags. We're going home.
Houston, we're coming home.
Boa, stop talking to yourself and let's go.
Sorry.
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