I grew up in the segregated south. A black was referred to as a ******; sometimes coon or jig-a boo; but ****** was the most common term. In the summer my family would drive up north to visit my grandmother. One day I was playing her front yard. I was around 8 or 9 years old. As I was playing; I noticed two black boys about my same age riding down the sidewalk on their bikes. They appeared to be twins; and both were riding identical red bicycles, and dressed exactly the same with white T-shirts, blue jeans, and white US Keds tennis shoes. Startled at the sight, I blurted out, "What are you ******* doing here"? Both of the black boys slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop. Then one of the black boys dismounted and let his bike fall to the ground. He walked straight towards me; made a fist, and punched me in the face. I fell backwards on the grass. As I started to stand up. Both of the black kids were already on their bikes and peddling down the sidewalk. I was in a complete state of shock and puzzlement as to what had just taken place.. And remember thinking to myself, "Why did he do that"?