Two years later, Mary is on a train from Florida to the White House where she will speak (at President Herbert Hoover’s invitation) before a national conference about children’s health and protection. Thinking back on her life, Mary is in disbelief sometimes at how special and blessed she’s been. Her grandmother Sophie always knew she had a higher purpose and would make a difference because Mary, the first to leave the plantation and attend school, cared so much about education.

In the present, a young girl near Mary is on her first train ride. Mary chats with her; the girl’s family has been struggling since the stock market crash, so her parents have sent her to family in New York where perhaps she can attend school. The segregated train car is not well-kept, but the cars reserved for white people only are pristine. Because the girl thinks the train ride is wonderful, Mary is even more aware and sad about the low expectations Black people have learned to have.

The conductor asks for their tickets and repeatedly calls Mary “Auntie” to get her attention; she doesn’t respond. She finds his familiar and disrespectful form of address insulting. When she points out that she can’t remember which sister gave birth to him, the other passengers laugh, and the conductor is embarrassed that Mary has chastised him.