Interviewee: Edwinda Goodman
Interviewer: Erin York
Date: October 26, 2017
Accession# EDLP 009
Length of Recording (min/sec): 44:08
Sound Recording
Summary
Edwinda Goodman was born in Winnsboro, South Carolina, one of eight children. Her father owned a convenience store, and her mother was a homemaker. She attended public schools in Winnsboro: Gordon Elementary, Fairfield High School, and Winnsboro High School during integration.
This oral history interview with Edwinda Goodman on October 26, 2017 includes discussion of growing up in Winnsboro, South Carolina during school integration, attending Fairfield High School and Winnsboro High School, classroom organization, growing up in a very close-knit community, becoming the head of the family at age eighteen, Maude Ross (guidance counselor at Fairfield H.S.), Queen Davis, race relations during integration and today, her immediate family’s educations, memories of teachers who boarded at her home, the effect of integration on the teachers in Fairfield County, the ways in which youth culture has changed over the years, working as a CNA (Certified Nurse’s Assistant), and the importance of education.
Transcript
Erin York: Good morning, my name is Erin York. We are conducting these interviews as a part of a class project at the University of South Carolina. The date is October 26, 2017, and I’m here with my interviewee, and she is going to introduce herself.
Edwinda Goodman: Good morning, my name is Edwinda Goodman– Jackson Goodman. I was born here in Fairfield County. Born at Fairfield Memorial Hospital. I’ve been in Winnsboro all my life. I was originally would stand right across the street, on Fairfield Street, right across from the school. That’s where I was born and where I was raised at. Growing up, my family, my grandmother, ran the convenience store, and we all had to help and work in the convenience store. When I was in the first grade, I started down at Gordon Elementary School down the street. I went there from first through seventh grade, and we graduated. We had a little graduation ceremony for seventh grade.
EY: Oh wow.
EG: And then we came to Fairfield.
EY: And that’s the building we’re in now.
EG: Yes. That’s right. This is the building we are in now. We went to what was called the junior high school first, and at that time, in 1974, that’s when they started integrating. And we had to do some classes at the middle school and then we had to go over here at the high school.
EY: About how far away was the other school?
EG: I would say maybe about 3 to 4 miles. It wasn’t that fair.
EY: Okay. And how did you get from that school and then back to this school.
EG: We was bussed. We had buses.
EY: Yep. And how many years did that last where you were going to both schools?
EG: It was just one year. And then we had to go on over to Winnsboro High School. Yes.
EY: Okay, and what was that experience like?
EG: Well, in the beginning of the segregation, it was kind of rough. I mean we had the children–the white children–they…It was a change for both of us. And I’m assuming, they didn’t want to be around us. And we couldn’t talk to them. When we would get on the bus, they didn’t want us to sit beside them. And you know, being kids, we did it because we was told not to do it, so we would sit there anyway. And you know what that causes confusion, and a lot of time we had fights. We had fights about not sitting there…. We got off the bus when we got to school. They didn’t want–even in the classrooms–they didn’t want us. The teachers had assigned seats, you know, orderly. They had one black and one white to make us together. But they still didn’t want us to do that. We had a couple of their parents come up and question why they had to be organized like that. The principal told them that the teachers did what they wanted to do in their classrooms, over fifty years of getting their education.
EY: How many black students were involved in the integration that year?
EG: Oh my goodness. It was, I mean it was a lot of us because you had the seventh and the eighth grade. It was like 74, 75 all of us was in that. In 73, too. In 73, 74, 75, it was–no…It was 72 in there too. All of us had to go through all of that.
EY: Do you think it was helpful that there were more of you?
EG: Well, there was more of…ask the question again?
EY: Oh sure. If it had been a smaller number of students who integrated, like say, just 10–they started with just 10, but they started with everyone, I’m assuming from those two grades…
EG: Well, I think that maybe it would have went over more smoother [sic]because–you know the more kids there is, the more trouble it is. And that’s the way that I feel. If it hadn’t been a mess of them, it probably wouldn’t have been that bad. When we was growing up, being kids, and I know you was one of them, all want to join in. [laughter]
EY: [laughter] And it was a forced integration, correct?
EG: Yes. It wasn’t no option. It was something we had to do.
EY: And how do you think that impacted you that year?
EG: Well, it impacted us real, real bad, very bad. For myself, I was born up here, and we was raised up here. The only thing pretty much we had connecting with, dealing with was the blacks. And like my parents, by running the convenience store, they was dealing with whites. And my father used to tell me all the time, he used to introduce me to the kids, and my mother bringing up, she had eight children. And even though she got a high school diploma, and she went one year of college, she still had to do–couldn’t get a job. My father was the one that was paying. But when my mother and father divorced, then she had to go into work, continue raising us, so you know, she had to go in the homes of whites and clean. I hated that. Me and my brothers, we hated that. We had to be picked at because of that. She said she was earning an honest dollar. There was some nice white people she had to go and clean up.[sic] They was pretty nice.
EY: So you mentioned that you grew up in a very strong black community for those first few years…
EG: Yes. It was very strong from the time I was born–because like I said, I was born across the street–and it was, we was, all of us was close-knitted. Even when we ended up going to school over here, they used to have a walkway right out here, all the way up. And we used to have to jump across the walkway to go to the convenience store. A lot of times we got–if you got caught–our principal, Mr. Green was a short, very small, petite man, and you talk about, run. He could run. He would be sitting in his office one minute, watching. Then when we would come back across the street, he’d be standing right there.
EY: He was waiting for you.
EG: Yes, he was. He was something else, but—my father, he went to D.C., so my mother and I was staying at my grandmother and my aunt.
EY: He moved there?
EG: Yes, he moved there, to Washington D.C. and stayed there for about six years. He went there to work. As I said, my grandmother run the convenience store, it was just a family lot, that all of us stayed over there. But then, the next block, that was my cousins, and all of us just close, family-knitted people…so, we got along real good…
EY: Can you talk about some of your favorite memories from being a child and growing up in your community?
EG: My favorite memories of growing up in the community is us being close-knitted, and I admired my mother for raising eight kids, and she died when I was 18. And when she died, unfortunately, I had to raise–I was the oldest girl–and her last words to me was to stay together. “You all stay together.” So I said to myself, ‘oh my god’. I say, ‘yes ma’am’. But all the time, I was wondering how I was going to do it. But I had my minister there, and he inspired me, and guided me. He helped me. It was like three girls, and five boys. And you can imagine what that was like, but anyway, I made it through it. God blessed me to help, you know, raise all of them, and I can truly say he was with me because all of them are successful, and their families—they have their own families– and they successfully got them grown and all.
I’m on my own now, but that was one of the memories that I remember, so… And then going down to Gordon Elementary School, how we used to walk down the street…all of us would meet up together, and we would walk down to the end of the road to the school together, and we all was in different classes. We just had a beautiful time. And that seventh grade graduation? The biggest day of our life. I loved that day. I just loved that day. I can remember it like it was yesterday. And we had some beautiful teachers. They was caring and loving teachers. They cared about our education. They made sure that we stayed focused. And it wasn’t no suspension and all of that back in the–because all they had to do was to speak, and we respected them. We knew if we didn’t, we were gonna get it at home. And all of the teachers pretty much, when they came in, they was like–Now, my grandmother used to board teachers, and a lot of them stayed in the house with her. So we knew a lot of them. We knew things other kids could get away with, I couldn’t. And my aunt was a school teacher. They would always say, ‘I’m going to call Miss Brown’…But those were the good days. And my teachers down at Gordon: Miss Henry, Miss Thelma Gladney, from first grade…I can remember all of them… Miss Arita (sp), Mr. Price, I can remember all of them. And just like I said, Miss Martin…it just do us so good to see that she’s still living and got a mind as good as she can. She was real strict. I tell my children now, respect them now, and thank god for them because we are who we are because of them. I had some other ones: Miss Davis, Miss BJ Brown, Miss Maude Ross. It was a lot of them that she’s living.
EY: And that’s amazing that you can name all of their names because I don’t think I could name all of my teachers names.
EG: Oh Lord, because they was so good. They was just remarkable to us. And Mr. Harris Heath, Miss Margaret Roseberg (sp)–it was a lot of them, you know, and they’re still living today, and it’s such a blessing we had them.
EY: So then for high school, you were in this building for four years?
EG: No, not for four years. Because of integration, we had to go over to Winnsboro High School, so we was here for only about a year.
EY: Can you talk about that year?
EG: Now that was a rough year….Integration as I said, when the kids–we didn’t get along, in the beginning–but eventually, we got to some of them. You still had some of them that would shine you. The ones that had money, they didn’t want to be around us. And you could tell that it was drilled and taught in them, about not being and getting along with the blacks. And some of them was transferred and–took them other places…But, other than that–we had a few white friends that got close to us…But that year it– even our teachers, then, Miss Davis and Miss Roseberg, Miss Martin–Lord Jesus…She couldn’t stand it if she even–it looked like she would detect something that was getting ready to happen. And she was always right there to separate us, and pull us to the side, and she was talking to us, and telling us, “Now that’s not right. It was something that you had to do. Well, you didn’t come to school to do this. You came to school to learn, and this is what you gonna do. Either, I will call your parents.” It was, it was all right. It didn’t last that long too. We got over to Winnsboro High, and it always segregation. It was separation. Even today it’s like that, but you have to overlook it, and go ahead.
EY: And can you talk a little bit about how you went through the integration process, and experienced the difficulties there, and then today, a lot of people might think that we’ve come so far, but really, we’re not that far from integration. We’re really not that far from the days of slavery, so…
EG: Right. It’s still there. It’s a lot of them. I tell my children…My children tell me. They say, “Momma, you just racist.” I say, “No, I’m not a racist. I’m just trying to explain to you all how it is. Don’t be naive to think they want to be with you, because they don’t. It’s a lot of them hiding. They dealing with it. You have attorneys, you have doctors…We have a couple doctors here in Fairfield…You go to them, and they won’t even touch you. You know, we have met and talked about that in the community, talked about that plenty much. They don’t want to touch you. But they’re in their field, and they have to serve you. But that’s why I told you I go to a doctor in Columbia. But it’s like that here. And pretty much everybody that you run into, even when you get on the council boards, when you participate in and on different boards in the community…It’s so noticeable. And it’s a sad thing because like I brought up in one of the board meetings, that if we were to cut ourself, the blood–all our blood–it’s just alike. So it’s no different; it’s just a color, but all of us have souls. It’s…It’s kind of rough. A lot of them right today, I tell my children, even at the schools sometimes. And now the parents, they can’t deal with mixed marriages. They don’t like the blacks going with the whites—oh, they can’t stand it!– but it’s something they have to deal with now. And I think some of them do it just because they didn’t want it done. Well. That’s the way it is.
EY: How many children do you have?
EG: I have four girls.
EY: Oh my goodness!
EG: Four girls! Yes.
EY: To make up for having little brothers that you were raising.
EG: I…yes…I wanted boys, but God blessed me—I ended up with the four girls. I wanted boys, and I didn’t want but two… I wanted two: one girl and one boy. But I had a girl, a girl, a girl, a girl. But my grandchild…I have four grandsons and two great-grands…twins. Yes, they’re twins.
EY: Do twins run in your family?
EG: Yes, very strongly, and it ran on their father’s side too.
EY: So you were guaranteed that there were going to be twins.
EG: Yes, that was my oldest granddaughter. She had a set of twins, and she went to Spellman College. Oh yes.
EY: And then you mentioned that your children will say people aren’t still racist and different things like that, and…
EG: My oldest daughter and my second daughter, she’s a magistrate judge, and she’s an entrepreneur–she’s a beautician after school’s program. Yeah, she does it, but she stays…Don’t bother her, but she recognize. She tell me, ‘Momma, we know they don’t like us, but we have to get along. I see it in her’. She says, ‘I deal with them every day, but I go ahead and do my job, and let it be. Just let it be’. She says, ‘you always taught us to say that God will have it at the end’. And I do tell them. You just let God take control.
EY: And why do you think that your children and grandchildren might have the misconception–or have had the misconception–that racism isn’t alive and well today?
EG: Because a lot of them that are hiding it. A lot of them…It’s hidden a lot. It is. Even with my oldest granddaughter, she works for the state, and she deal with…Even when she got this particular job, they…It was a black and a white that was interviewed. And the white got the job, even though they didn’t have the credentials that she had. They got it, but they still yet had to come back and ask her to come back because that particular person didn’t stay in the position. So, yes…
EY: So you would say that we’ve transitioned from more of the overt racism to the covert racism?
EG: Right. Very much so.
EY: Because it’s not appropriate, you know, to be racist. Yeah. So if you could hope for changes in the future, what would that look like with race relations?
EG: I would love to see everybody know that we have to get along, I guess you could say I’m all about the preaching, but–they have to realize that we all are one, you know? God didn’t separate no white and black. We all are one, so we should…If we can’t get along down here, and love one another here, how you think we’re going to get along in Heaven? There’s no way. There’s no way we can do it. And believe me, he know it all. He know the ones hiding behind closed doors. It’s like–with the gays coming out of the closet, it’s like the whites come out too. And we have some blacks that don’t want to deal with whites, but it’s like I tell them. It is what it is. And they can accept them. And I think it’s all because of the way we were treated. When we was coming up, we had particular places–the white had to go on one side, and the black had to go to one side–you couldn’t even drink from the water fountain they was in. And that’s ridiculous. The stores, they wanted you to go another way…come on now, that’s ridiculous…
EY: But then the convenience store that you mentioned that your father ran–you would have white customers?
EG: Oh yes. Yes. Oh yeah. Salesmen would come in…black, white… But my grandmother, she treated everybody the same. Yep, she treated everybody the same…
EY: And did you see, after integration, did you see more white people coming into the convenience store?
EG: No because it was just a few of them, once they got connected with people up here because it was an all black-community. They wouldn’t come in this community unless they was dealing with one of the blacks.
EY: Then you talked about how religion and God has played a big part in your life. You were raised in a religious family?
EG: Oh yes.
EY: And did you have a very strong community, I’m guessing, within your church?
EG: Right. We really did. And, you know, like I was telling my kids, I said, ‘a lot of things that the other kids had to experience, I didn’t get a chance to be open to all of that because of the way my family raised us’. We couldn’t go any and everywhere. We had to go from the schoolhouse, working in the store, and back to church. That was pretty much it, you know…I had other classmates who had things that happened to them, but I didn’t get a chance to say that happened to me like that because I didn’t have that experience.
EY: And do you think that’s a good thing? Or–?
EG: Oh yeah. Yeah. It’s a good thing. I thank God for my parents. I thank God for them.
EY: I saw a convenience store right there. Is that the same convenience store?
EG: It’s there, right across the street.
EY: Oh! That building?
EG: That building, you see, where the white block wall is, that’s the convenience store. We closed it. My grandmother ran it. My mother ran it until she wasn’t able to, then my daddy came back, and he ran it. When he got disabled, then I took it over. And then, at that particular time, I tried to deal with the younger generations–I couldn’t deal with them. They wanted you to stay in there, because we had a pool table in there, and we sold alcohol…beer…it was beer… and I couldn’t deal with that. I couldn’t deal with those kids because they had got so they did not respect… They didn’t care what they said, and what they did…We had some of them that was very nice–I had a couple of fellows that would stay in there with me until I closed if they wanted me to stay in there. My house was behind the store, and they would walk me to the house, and make sure that I got in safe, but I just got tired of it. And my daughter, she took it over for me, for about a year and a half; but with her being a judge…it was messing up with her because a lot of things that happened, they had to go before her, and she didn’t want to take that…always have to pass it on to another judge… And then, it had got down to where I really didn’t want to sell anymore beer anyway. It was just the pool, and then we had canned goods, sandwiches, cold cuts, potato chips, and cookies, and stuff, but we got so they wasn’t buying that. There was a better, cheaper convenience store for them to go to, so we just shut it down.
EY: How long was the convenience store open?
EG:: Oh my God…My grandmother ran it…I say way back in the 40s because, ever since my father was going to school, the store was there. And my father–when he died he was eighty-one–and my aunt—the oldest one of them–she’s 87. And it was there then. It’s a historical building. Yes, it’s been there. It’s only been shut down for about ten years now.
EY: I bet you have a lot of memories of growing up and being in there.
EG: [laughter] Oh yes! Because we used to get picked at when the kids would go across the street–they would cut [classes]. She would sell them the cookies and potato chips, soda, whatever they want. Then she would call Principal Green. She’d say, “And you know better! You know better!” And then she would tell their parents on them. My aunt–she was a school teacher–she would walk from just there over here, and they’d be picking at you…I’m going to tell the kids. I’m going to tell Miss BJ Brown… Oh my goodness!… And the teachers—Oh Lord!…you could’t do– I couldn’t do nothing! My cousins couldn’t do nothing. My brothers and sisters couldn’t do nothing because…
EY: It was going to come right back around.
EG: And we would get it, so. And I can truly say that we was just a lucky, blessed family because we had parents that cared right there. Like I said, we didn’t get exposed to a lot of things that the other kids did.
EY: And you talked about, your family boarded teachers.
EG: Oh yes, they boarded quite a few of them. They would come in and leave out, you know, every year. They’d stay like two or three years. Miss Claudette Paul, Doretha Walker, it was a lot of them. So, it was quite a few of them. They would come in, and stay about three or four years, then they would go, but they were about teaching. They had a two-story house, an upstairs and a downstairs, so they would have three rooms upstairs, and they would board rooms. And sometimes, they loved my grandmama so, and there was two of them staying in a room together, but they just didn’t want to go back to Columbia.
EY: Oh, okay, so they were mostly coming from Columbia to here?
EG: Oh yes, they was mostly coming from Columbia.
EY: How did that come about that they would…they would be teaching in Columbia…
EG: They would be teaching in Columbia…no, they was teaching in Fairfield, at the school, and evidently, when they heard about the positions, they would be brought in and out. But some of them, a lot of them, boarders…they still board other places now.
EY: Were your family affected by integration because the school closed?
EG: Well, I wouldn’t say it did. When my aunt, we had to go on over to Winnsboro High, I don’t think it affected my family because we were dealing with it. I wouldn’t say it affected us at all.
EY: And they were able to keep their positions?
EG: Right. Right, they were able to keep…My aunt was a school teacher, and all the teachers that boarded, they left and went on over to Winnsboro High.
EY: Okay. Good.
EG: It wasn’t like they just cut them off. No.
EY: Thank goodness. I had another question. Let it come back to me…Oh yeah, I wanted to ask about, you said the kids coming to the convenience store, some of them were disrespectful as the years went by. Um, why do you think that is?
EG: It was their rearing, and the way society is today. Number One, I say they dropped out of school. I strongly feel that when they took prayers out of school–because we used to have to do the morning devotion and prayer, say the pledge, and all of that, every morning–they cut all of that out. To say why I feel that it’s like that is because a lot of kids go through a lot: the way they was brought up and reared and I can tell you how sad it is for a single parent, and a lot of time, the single parents, they just grow up without. And another thing is babies raising babies. That’s my thing. I tell everybody ain’t nothing but babies having babies. How can a child that don’t know anything tell their child when they don’t know anything at all, theyself [sic]? They still learning and grabbing hold of experience theyself. [sic]
EY: Yeah. And do you think that over the years, using the convenience store as an example, did you see more disrespectful behavior, or was it just about the same?
EG: Since it has closed?
EY: Well, since you were a kid growing up.
EG: Oh Lord, there wasn’t no disrespect [sic] when we were growing up as kids, oh Lord. Oh my gracious. I hate to think if we were disrespectful, if you even looked at a person wrong, the teacher wrong, then they only thing they did was pick up the telephone, and we got it. So it’s a big difference from where we were to where they are today.
EY: And what do you think has been the main cause of that?
EG: Well, as I said before, I really feel that because of babies having babies. Children are having children because they’re out there doing it. They not getting an education. They don’t have the mind to stay and weren’t taught the values of education. And I think they’re just too fast.
EY: Growing up too fast.
EG: Right. Seeing too much at they house, and they just grab ahold to it.
EY: Well, were you hoping to stay in Fairfield County, or did you think about going somewhere else?
EG: At one time, I were, but just like I said, once my mother passed at 18, I didn’t have no more say-so to my life, no more. I couldn’t even experience growing up as a child at 18. I was grown before I had to deal with…grown before I knew it…I had to take all the grown-up experience at the age of 18. Sometimes I used to say, Lord, why me? But you know, you’re not supposed to question God’s will, but I thank God from where I am today. It could have been worse. It would have been worse.
EY: How old was the youngest sibling when you were eighteen?
EG: She was five. She was five. She was five.
EY: What did you do for work at that time?
EG: I was CNA, at that time it was called Cedar Programs. I was working in the hospital after I would come home and do that again. And then I did private duty. I thank God for that because they had me do that. When she passed, when she got sick, I was at a private duty job that morning. So…When she passed, that’s what I was doing. I would work two little part-time jobs, and I had. In order for them not to take the kids away from me–The Department of Social Services–I had to get a job also–the second job, we had just opened up, it was called Hardee’s at that time. We had a Hardee’s, and I got a little job as a cashier over at Hardee’s when they first opened up. I went through the training of us. So with that and my minister’s help, I was able to, along with the public assistance that we got from raising, but all of them graduated. I thank God for that. And all of them is very successful. They’re parents, and sisters and all of their children. All their kids call me Grandma.
EY: And then your kids have gone on and been very successful.
EG: Oh yes.
EY: And I think, don’t let me speak for you, but I think growing up in a house where education is so valued, then you carry that with you.
EG: Very much…very much valued…I inspire that all of my kids and even the grandkids, now, they’re going to go to college. The importance of it, especially now. You can’t make it without it. You can’t make it without it. And I tell them, ‘you can’t get enough! You can not get enough… So continue to stay in as long as you can’. Always do better. Always do better.
EY: What colleges did your kids go to?
EG:: Winthrop, SC State, and Spelman. My granddaughter is doing a summer program. She went to Claflin. Then she–we was praying hard—that’s what she wanted to do…she had her mind on her goals, and she wanted to go to Spelman. And oh, we prayed so hard, and when she got in, that was the happiest day of our life. She got in, and she did well all the way through.
EY: How did your kids decide on the colleges that they decided on?
EG: I think Winthrop–they had help with the guidance. And our guidance counselor was throwing it out there, and they threw it out there at them, and we went to visit. My daughter, Vanessa, she went to Winthrop. It was definitely their choice to go to South, to SC State. My other daughter, I forgot USC-Upstate, she got her Nursing degree from there. But they chose to go to USC, but that wasn’t my choice. But they had to be the one to go. And I wanted to always put it out there that I wanted them to do what they wanted to do, to pick what they wanted to be because if I–they wasn’t going to be successful. [sic] Something that they wanted to go. And that’s what they did. I let them chose the college that they wanted to go to.
EY: They’re very, very lucky because a lot of kids don’t have that kind of support.
EG: I always felt that if you force a child to do something they don’t want to do, they’re going to be rebellious, every time. So you can talk to them, try to smooth it out, show them the way with the cons and the pros, but it’s their decision. They got to live their life. I thank God that, and I prayed for them to make their own choice.
EY: We’re doing really well on time. I just want to get some of your candid thoughts about anything that you want anyone to know about this interview, that you want listeners to know about your experiences with segregation and integration.
EG: Well, I would love to see—its like I said before–both the white and the black to realize that we have to get along. We’ve got to love one another. And I would love to be able to see that we don’t have to worry about going to this person and feel that they are not going to give us the opportunity like they gave the next person, you know? We have attorneys and doctors that run–in the business now–that they deal with the majority of the black clientele, but they don’t have no whites in their offices. I think that is terrible. Even though some of them that we’ve brought up to them, but they still won’t have none of that white. They want to tell me, ‘Well, Edwinda, if you recommend them to me and call me…’, but why should I have to recommend them to you? You’ve put the application out there, and whoever gets it, is qualified for it, let it be, you know? But even with your clientele like that, I still feel that you should at least have one in there. You’re showing us that you’re not, not by doing–you’re showing your hands. It might not seem like that to you, but it is…Just because you get along with me or a few other ones, you’re still showing your hands. I have some of them that classmate of mine and—a very good friend of mine– but I have people coming to me, ‘he ain’t nothing, he ain’t nothing. He ain’t nothin’ but a racist because’…I can only judge a person by how they treat me. I see it. And I express myself to them, but it’s on them. They’ve got to deal with that, and answer to their God. But it is; it’s still here today. I would love to see a change in them. I hope and pray that I live to see that day. It will be a great day. That song, “Great Day”? It’ll be a great day…
EY: Thank you so much for all of your thoughts and taking the time to do this interview with us, and I’ll be doing the transcription of it, so you’ll be able to see that as well as listen to the recording, probably in a month or so, as well as listen to everybody else’s recordings. So, at this time, I’m going to…
EG: I’d just like to say I enjoyed the interview, and I think it’s a beautiful thing that Dr. Stevick chose it. And we admire him and are appreciative for it.
EY: Yeah, he’s a great man.
EG: All right. Thank you.
EY: Thank you.
End of Interview