Sambo’s in the Wilshire District of LA was a great place to eat. If you ordered coffee a waitress would come by to refill your cup before you could drain it. If you like that kind of service along with great food, and you live in the San Joaquin Valley, head for McCoy’s in Selma, just off the 99 freeway.
“When they came for Sambo’s, we let it go. No wonder they finally came for Cracker Barrel.”
To misquote Niemoller:
First they came for Uncle Ben, and I did not speak out—because I was not a black male and my own rice was unconverted.
Then they came for Aunt Jemima, and I did not speak out—because I was not a black female and I had never started my own business.
Then they came for the Land O’Lakes princess, and I did not speak out—because I was not an Indian.
Then they came for my Uncle Hershel—and there was no one left to speak for either him or me.