One summer day my father sent me to buy wire for our farm. At 16, I liked (36) better than driving our track, (37) this time I was not happy. My father had told me I’d have to ask for credit(赊账) at the store. Sixteen is a (38) age, when a young man wants respect, not charity. It was 1976, and the ugly (39) of racial discrimination(歧视) was (40) a fact of life. I’d seen my friends ask for credit and then stand, head down, while the store owner (41) whether they were "good for it." I knew black youths just like me who were (42) like thieves by the store clerk each time they went into a grocery. My family was (43) . We paid our debts. But before harvest, cash was short. Would the store owner (44) us At Davis’s store, Buck Davis stood behind the cash desk, talking to a farmer. I nodded (45) I passed him on my way to the hardware shelves. When I brought my (46) to the cash desk, I said (47) , "I need to put this On credit." The farmer gave me an amused, distrustful (不相信的) (48) . But Buck’s face didn’t change. "Sure," he said (49) . "Your daddy is (50) good for it." He (51) to the other man. "This is one of James William’s sons." The farmer nodded in a neighbourly (52) . I was filled with pride. James William’s son. Those three words had opened a door to an adult’s respect and trust. That day I discovered that the good name my parents had (53) brought our whole family the respect of our neighbours. Everyone knew what to (54) from a Williams: a decent person who kept his word and respected himself (55) much to do wrong.