. . .

“I remember I turned and saw a well-dressed man I didn’t recognize with a mustache. He greeted Daddy, and your Grandpa greeted him like any other customer. I don’t remember what they said to each other.

“At that point, a voice called out from the kitchen. ‘Is that you, Mr. K?’ The doors swung open from the shop and Joe came out.”

“Who was Joe?” I asked.

“Grandpa’s foreman,” she continued. “A part of the family. He was a biiiiiiiiiiig African-American man. … Came to my wedding. Oh! He was sweet like sugar. Anyway … Joe came out and talked to Grandpa for a minute and then went back into the shop.

“I remember looking up when I heard the man say, ‘Harry … I didn’t know you hired ni---rs’?”

“No way!” I said.

“Yup,” she continued. “At that point, all I remember was seeing Daddy turn beat red. It’s like time stood still. I got really scared because I was sure Grandpa was having a heart attack. I’d never seen him that color before.

“And then all hell broke loose.

“Daddy – all 4 feet 8 inches tall and 3 feet wide of him – whirled around and stormed right over to the man. He grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and started pushing him backward towards the door without saying a word. Then, all of a sudden, I heard him hiss: Yoo geht out! Yoo are no longer velkom is dis establishmehnt!

“I remember shaking and crying. He pushed old Fred Trump out the door, into the vestibule and right through the outside door onto the sidewalk.

“Then he yelled right into his face: ‘No one tahlks to meh woikers daht vay. Yoo geht out and don’ kohm behck! Yoor not velkom heer anymohr!’

“Then, without another word he dropped Trump’s lapels, turned on his heal and marched back into the store.

“Goils!’ he yelled, when he got back inside. ‘If dat man eveh koms behk, yoo call me! Don’ yoo sell him eveh a krum ohf brehd!’