We are both country bumpkins. Apparently, one of my great aunts (my great-grandmother's frisky sister) caused such a ruckus in the countryside as a girl (she severely whipped a white boy with a switch, leaving screaming wounds on his back, after an incident over a dog he named Nigger), that they sent my great-grandmother to go fetch their mother ten miles down the road to come and tend to the boy's injuries with a polstice she developed from an old indigenous remedy. The boy's back was healed within two weeks and he had no scars left! As a result, that white family and my family were friends from then on, even though this was in the middle of North Carolina during Jim Crow and race relations were rocky. You can only tell of such stories in the country.