Going to have a little more serious subject for part of this one.
When I was younger there were whole families that made the fruit picking circuit. California, north through us and cherries in Montana. Most of these families came from Arkansas, Missouri, and Oklahoma. Many later settled here and actually bought their own farms.
This cycle is repeating but with a different group. Some of the kids from the traveling families were in school with us for a few weeks at a time. One of the kids I remember most was a black girl from Arkansas named Gay. I had no experience with racial problems so started talking to her like any other kid. She seemed shocked that I would associate with her and was shy anyway. Years later when I realized more I came to understand but found it sad. As I have said before, I was raised with the idea that if someone treated you right you did the same.