Honey King
97, Harlem

     I go back over my life from the time I was 3 years old, up to the present – reviewing, reviewing, reviewing, reviewing. When I’m in bed, I’m going over my life constantly; that kind of keeps me company. Right now I don’t have nothing else to do, and so I think: “I wonder what happened to such and such a guy. Oh, he died.” Going over people in my mind, over and over and over and over.
     My wife was Jewish. It wasn’t a problem for either of our families, but it was for a lot of my friends. But what the hell! I didn’t give a damn what they thought. After I retired, when she would get up for work in the morning, I’d say, "Let me look at you before you go. You look like a movie star." And she’d laugh and go out the door.
     I spend most of my day in the bed. I read everything I can get my heads on, that’s the only thing that keeps me going. I read Malcolm X, I read books by my deceased friend Thurgood Marshal. Above all, I read the Bible. I read until I get sleepy and then I go back to bed. And then I say to the dear Lord, "Thank you, dear Lord, for letting me live 97 years on your property, without giving me a ‘dispossessed.’"