The Warmth of Other Suns

1. Chicago, Summer 1996. Isabel Wilkerson first meets Ida Mae, she is 83 and spends her time at home, doing crosswords, collecting her late friends’ funeral programs, and staying up to date on the family gossip. She also watches “the lost grandchildren of the Migration” out her window as they sell drugs, dodge the police, and shoot at each other. She wonders how the city’s young people have totally lost their sense of morality. At least they look out for her by telling her which nights it’s too dangerous to go out. During their interviews, Ida Mae and Wilkerson hear a glass bottle crash outside the window and watch the police arrest a local janitor. But Ida Mae refuses to be afraid.

2. Harlem, 1996. George Starling’s basement apartment is full of photos, old documents, and funeral programs. He speaks clearly and carefully, giving Wilkerson all the detail she could hope for. His pastor stops by, and they reminisce about the New York of the past, when there was still a sense of community and drugs hadn’t taken over the city yet. He spends his time alone, “sort[ing] through the paperwork of his life” and mourning his daughter Sonya, who recently died of a car accident.

3. Los Angeles, Spring 1996. Robert Foster invites Isabel Wilkerson into his living room, with its 1970s décor, and brings her the slice of pound cake that he offers to all his visitors. He tells her about his early life and worsening heart problems, but he explains that he doesn’t want another bypass operation and “wouldn’t have any regrets” if he dies tomorrow. He spends his time playing blackjack, talking on the phone, and giving extremely precise instructions to his obedient gardener. He has a beautiful house and highly accomplished children and grandchildren. Whenever Wilkerson interviews him, several old friends and patients call him for medical advice.

Eustis, Florida, July 1996. Now that the orange grove owners who wanted to kill him and the brutal sheriff Willis V. McCall are all dead, George Starling finally decides to go visit Eustis. He has dinner with Reuben Blye, one of the old foremen, who playfully insists that “a Florida man got more sense than a born New Yorker.” George still owns a small piece of land in Eustis, too, and he’s pleasantly surprised to see the South becoming more tolerant. He even saw a Black man and a white woman holding hands on the street. He and Reuben drive by their old orange groves and reminisce about their picking days.

George starts coming to Eustis every other year for high school reunions. Thanks to his years of service with the railroad, his train ticket is free. People in town have “a distant kind of respect” for him—they know that he left and succeeded in the North, but they can’t pinpoint exactly how they know him, or if they’re related. On one Sunday, Wilkerson follows him to services at his old church, where he sings a tearful solo for the whole congregation.

Los Angeles, November 23, 1996. There are sixteen people, all seniors, left in the local Monroe, Louisiana Club. Robert Foster brings Wilkerson to one of their meetings. One of the men says a prayer for the food—and Wilkerson’s book—and then everyone digs into the oxtails, collard greens, and more. The club members chat about their old acquaintances, their experiences under Jim Crow, and how things have changed in Monroe. One man remembers the segregated Paramount Theater that Robert used to visit. The man explains that he left Monroe after he risked death by complaining after a white cashier gave him a worthless token instead of his change. Robert tells his own story about insulting the man who asked for help finding “a clean colored girl.” The other club members say he’s “lucky to be alive.”