Leon Smalls greeted me at the door with the corners of his mouth turned down. He was a strong man in his fifties, with short hair, a broad, implacable face, and brown, unlined skin. He wore a button shirt, dark workman's trousers, and sneakers. Mr. Smalls took in a long breath, and exhaled it slowly through his teeth. In marked contrast to Carolyn, Leon Smalls seemed to have a closely watched anger.

"I don't know what this is all about," he said with a hard handshake, disdaining either me or the idea I had asked to visit. I could feel his anger as I walked into the house.

...

When I began looking at the plantations, and speaking with descendants of Ball slaves, I thought that I might meet with a certain amount of rage. I presumed it would be directed at me. In fact, I had been surprised at how little rage I had found--that is, among black people.

"You are conscious of your bitterness," I said.

"Very much so, that's my personality."

"When did you become such an embittered person?" I felt a twinge of admiration for Mr. Smalls, who both felt bitter and watched himself feeling it.

Slaves in the FamilyBy Edward BallPages 122-124