Description:
Anthony Ziegler talks about his life growing up in Northeast Oklahoma City.
Transcript:
Interviewee: Anthony Ziegler
Interviewer: Vernona Russel Dismuke
Interview Date: September 19th, 2007
Interview Location: Ralph Ellison Library, Oklahoma City
Transcribed on Sunday, July 5 - Monday, July 6, 2020
Vernona Russel Dismuke (VD) - Today is Wednesday, September 19th, 2007. We’re at the Ralph Ellison library, in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. My name is Vernona Russell Dismuke. My parents are Chevis king Jr. And Jackie Marie Russell. And I'm here today with-
Anthony Ziegler (AZ) - Anthony Ziegler. I’m the son of Isaac Ziegler and Jessie Ziegler, born here in Oklahoma City. I’m currently residing in the city of Atlanta.
VD - Wonderful. Anthony, our paths crossed in high school.
AZ - Actually the last bit of high school.
VD - The very last bit of high school as we were seniors, I was senior class in Classen, and you were in Northwest Classen
AZ - Northwest.
VD - And you were the recipient of one of the Anton H. Classen medal of honors, and we went to OU and became friends, the very best of friends.
AZ - The very best of friends, after the first day in college.
VD - After the first day. Well tell me Anthony, I know that you’ve been always, one of the things I've admired about you, you’ve always had a commitment to northeast Oklahoma City. So, tell me, what it was like for you growing up in Oklahoma City.
AZ - Oh goodness, the northeast quadrant, the hood, my place. I think growing up here, you have to remember when you’re a child, you only know what your parents exposed you to, what your geographical location is. I think I was must extremely lucky because the northeast quadrant I grew up in, I was born in 65, probably started paying attention to things around the 70s, was a fantastic place to grow up as a young black person. There, our neighborhoods, there were just a few white people, not a lot of white people, but it was a very supportive community. There was a bank right down the street. There were black schools right around the corner, which I did attend. There was a grocery store, several grocery stores, probably about 7 or 8 in the northeast quadrant, there were ice cream stores which I loved, there were 3, 2 within walking distance. The 23 quarter was just alive, restaurants, hair salons, there was just a lot going on growing up. Again, my time of references is probably the early 70s, having born in 65. I attended black
church here on east side, just a few blocks here around Ellison and new Bethel Baptist, went there for the first 17 years of my life. Again, another community of black people, very nurturing, very very supportive, strong educational push, very much a scriptural based place of worship. I loved growing up here.
VD - You had a great foundation. And did you go to school at Harmony or were you bussed over to Wilson?
AZ - What happened during in 1971 the Pay Plan or Pei Plan, I can't remember how it was pronounced, was integration for Oklahoma City, and I was thinking- we should have been, I don’t know about what school you attended, but we were the first generation of kids that was bussed out of our neighborhood and I was bussed to Grover Cleveland from first to fourth grade, then in 5th grade I came back and went to Harding, which was renamed martin Luther king, which is right there off of Jordan. And then I went to Harding, and then to northwest Classen. So I think that, I guess my trial by fire was probably the 1st to 4th grade I did when I was bussed out of my neighborhood, I remember 4 black students in my class, for 4 whole years. I look back, and I think that was very interesting times, because again, those children they don’t really understand a lot of the issues that are going on, I thought it was just cool to get on the long bus and ride all the way down the street, and there was only 4 of us on the bus and we can make as much noise as possible. We knew the bus driver, and our parents saw us off, and then we got off. But the interesting thing going to that school, that bases of education, there was, the kids didn’t know the difference, we were there to learn, we didn’t know all the social things that were going on. The powerful thing about it was, we didn’t realize was our parents, our mothers did know what was going on. And now when you’re talking about school across the country, you’re hearing teachers and educators saying they can’t get their parents involved. And one of the things I look back on, which was amazing, there were 4 black kids in my school, in my particular class, probably 10 in the whole school, but I knew all of those parents, because those mothers were at school. We kind of thought why are they coming to school all the time, why are you here. My mom, volunteered at the library. I went in one day and she was reading to a group of white students, and I was like, “hey, that’s my mom, what’s she doing up here?” But we didn’t understand that those mothers knew they were sending their kids into some rough territory, and the only way they could make sure was to be present, and it made a difference in my education, I know. Those women that were there all the time, I saw their children grow up, I saw them in the community, there were no incidents that I can remember, where someone mistreated us just because we were black kids. But they knew that our parents were there, so they knew that they meant business about education, wasn’t about just the cause, they were there, they meant business.
VD - Now you grew up about a mile from here. How much of an impact did the library play?
AZ - Oh my god, I love the library, the library was a big impact because I remember when this library opened, and I lived about 4 blocks away, but to get to Ralph Ellison you had to cross 23rd and you had to cross eastern then before it was Martin Luther King. So when it opened, we were just so excited, it was just like, we got a library to go to, it was a modern building, we kind of knew who Ralph Ellison was, but we were too young to worry about the Invisible Man. But I remember one of my biggest, my first, area of responsibility, that I could walk to the library by
myself, but I had to cross those two big streets. And my first form of identification was my library card.
VD - And you still read.
AZ - And I still read today.
VD - You read everything. well that’s good. Now what about, now you spent your summers, quite a bit of your summers in Arkansas, with your family, your family is a big part of your...
AZ - Most definitely, my mom was from Arkansas, my dad grew up in, I guess they call it Nicoma Park, Spencer, he went to Dungee High School, my mom was from Arkansas, right there kind of on the border between Oklahoma and Texas, but she had sisters and they all migrated to Oklahoma City because it was the closest major metropolitan area. So, I spent a lot of summers in Arkansas, the magnolia, picking pecans, didn’t pick cotton but picked pecans, peaches, and apples. I'm the only child but my mom had 14 brothers and sisters so there were plenty of children. So yeah, Arkansas, especially Spencer, was a big part in my growing up, because my father was adopted, it was kind of one of those community adoptions, they really don’t sign papers, he was born in Savanah, and somebody, his parents- his mother died, and his grandmother passed away, he had a little brother and somebody said we’ll just gonna ship them off to Zieglers, the Zieglers want them in, in Spencer, and so my dad remember getting a tag put on his leg, and it basically had his name,
VD - Wow.
AZ - And it just had his first name, didn’t have his last name, and they put him on a train, and they sent him here, supposedly it was a distant cousin or something, and they picked him up, and he lived in Spencer, grew up there, lotta people out there, the English family, the Ziegler family, out in Star Spencer, the Dungee family, cause he went to Dungee High School, a lot of that has a lot of importance for me, cause
VD - Your dad was from.
AZ - That’s where I’m from,
VD - Wow, now you’re a preacher’s kid, your dad is a man of the clothe,
AZ - Mhmm,
VD - Tell me about spending time at the bible institute.
AZ - Oh yeah, the King's Common Bible Institute, that was interesting, when we were growing up, another thing about being on the east side, we didn’t have a lot- we had social things to do, I learned how to bowl at the Bryant’s center, which was a black bowling alley on the black side of town, learned how to roller skate at the rocket, went to the amusement park at Spring Lake, but outside of that, it was church, so that’s what you did. You went to Sunday school, pray a bit at BTU, whizzed by at bible service, RA boys, GA girls, prayer teaches me, and you know they didn’t just do it at your church, they did it at all the churches, so you were constantly at church, but yeah growing up, went to Saint John, Saint John was on second street, always one of my biggest things growing up was that revival at Saint John, because we didn’t have to do
school work for that whole night, but you had to read that bible, then we would go to here, the Late Dr. Manuel Scott preached at saint john, and it would just be packed full of people, when you little, and you standing there with all these people and they be shouting and screaming, it was just, you know how it feels, but you did not have to do homework for that week, and they had a simultaneous revival, but, one of the things, as I got older, I ended up working with the King’s Common Bible Institute, which is a Bible College in the northeast quadrant. And we started the inaugural, when they started, they wanted to reach out to the young kids in the community, so of course my dad, and a couple other ministers of my church, they volunteered myself and my cousin Felicia Wiatt to be youth counselors, which meant every Saturday we had to go to make arts and crafts for the little kids in the neighborhood over there by Garden Oats. And then once we did the arts and crafts, we went outside, played, and of course they had a bible lesson, but it was really interesting because that bible college educated a lot of ministers and laymen here in the northeast quadrant and is still working right over by Edward's Park.
VD - Tell me about some of the educators that had an impact on your life.
AZ - Oooh, educators. I love them. I went to Grover Cleveland, there was this one black teacher there, her name is Mrs. James, and I believe she still, she lives in Wildwood. I didn't take Mrs. James class, but I just remember that she was, you know, our idea that black women were teachers, when I walk down the hall and her kids went to that school, so I was kind of, I was just kind of, want to protect her. When I went to Harmony, there was this Mrs. Ladimer Washington. Mrs. Ladimar Washington was young, at that time young, by that time young sister, and she married the PE instructor. And we all had a crush on, oh but they was so beautiful, we had a crush on them. But she was one of those people who was very supportive of the black kids, and one thing that was interesting, when you look at like what bussing has done, in each school, whether it's all black, or all white, the students that excel, kind of all get shuffled, into their special little groups, and I was blessed that I, I believe that I got shuffled into that group, and those teachers kept us kind of pushed, you know, they saw things that we didn’t see and did not understand. My glory years were in Harding Middle school. Kristine Paller was there, the late Ralph Masters, Mr. Clark, Mrs. Rowers taught me algebra, there were tons of black teachers, and the interesting thing there, I think one of the lessons I learned, was people see things, especially teachers, and they are so valuable, they see things in children that children don’t understand. I remember I wanted to join a gang, and the teachers- not the gangs we have now, but we had our matching jackets, and they were actually red, so they was really sharp. And I was trying to fit in, cause I was a church kid, I had to stud homework, there was no other option, and so I thought Im’ma get my street cred, and so I joined this little gang, and we were running, we got all the kids in school one day to follow us, and we ran up and down the halls of Harding, just like cattle. And, one of the teachers, Kristine Pollard, she just retired, but she still a teacher, I was running down the street, running down the halls, just getting it, and I felt a pull on my neck, it was my jacket, and I was like I know ain’t nobody messing with my jacket, and she pulled me up, off my feet, and yanked me into the back of her room, and I saw this horde of kids racing by, and I was not in front of them. And she pulled me into the room, and the first thing that I thought was oh my gosh, she's gonna tell my mother, and so she said, she told me, she said, you know, you gonna be somebody, she said, so you can't find yourself just doing what everybody else is doing. And she said, so you have to be careful, whatever you do, you make decisions, you don’t be running up and down the hall, and she commenced to confine me into her room for the next six weeks, and I was come in, check in with her in the morning. And another instance was a math teacher, that, again, we want to fit in, kids want to fit in, and I wanted, my crew members, and I just couldn’t how everybody couldn’t just get the math as easy as I could, and it was just memorization, it wasn’t like I was some math whiz, but I wanted to help them, well helping them, of course, they wanted me to cheat for them, and I just wanted to be in the group, I just wanted to be accepted, and the teacher, he got wind of what was going on, he saw what was happening, and he told me, he said, you know, you have a future, he said, there's something for you to do, and he said, these other kids, these other guys, they're not gonna be anything. He said, they don’t want to be anything, and I couldn’t understand that, because they were my friends, and I thought we would all be doing things. And amazingly enough, when I look at the years, one of them was killed brutally, another is on the run from the law, and it's interesting, it's sad, but like you think about parents, and teachers especially, when they see promise, and they pick students out and encourage them, it's so very important because I could've been just like them, you know, I could have just been like, the rest of them. But black teachers, by far, in northwest, can't forget them, Mrs. Barbary Key, Linda Williamson Holeman, so many teachers. One I do want to remember in particular was the late Doris Combs. And she taught to me English, and I think she was probably one of the most influential people I had as an educator, because she taught me, I was kind of a black militant even back then, so I wanted to read stuff by Langston Hughes, and wanted to read Lorraine Hansberry, and she said that’s all good and fine, but she encouraged me to not be afraid of classics, because they was written by someone other than black people did not mean we couldn’t grasp them. She was very much a person of diction, she said, you know you need to speak a certain way, and this has encouraged me. I can still hear her say, “James Fenimore Cooper, Canterbury Tales.” Now I thought stuff was just ludicrous back then, but it has so much meaning. And, she taught my dad at Dungee, so there was kind of a connection. She taught my dad English, and then here in late 83 she was teaching me, so that was cool. Educators, can’t do without them, they need to be paid more.
VD - When did you first become interested in arts?
AZ - Oooh, church. Because I always had to be King Harod. It was certain people, certain kids in churches, they, certain ones had to memorize parts in church, and my mother always volunteered me to memorize stuff, and my grandmother volunteered me more in stuff. So I was always King Harod, so after a few Christmases of that, my seasoned repertoire of being King Harod, I just liked theatre. I liked singing, I liked the curtain falling and stuff, and then when I got in, I think in high school, I kind of got bit by the theatre bug. I realized there was all this work by like Leroy Jones, Amiri Baraka, and Langston Hughes had written plays, and Lorraine Hansberry, there was all this work out there that I had never seen on stage. And then when you start studying in it, when you start singing, and then starting to perform it. One of my, I was in Purlie Victorious, played the preacher, again the preacher, and I thought that was just, that was fantastic, I had never, that was a whole world I was exposed to, and then when I was a senior, I directed a A Raisin in the Sun, so, I think probably high school cemented it.
VD - But even still, as long as I’ve known, you’ve always been very knowledgeable of visual artists, of literature, the Harlem renaissance, where did they come from?
AZ - Books. I think, they, that’s it. Part of Ralph Ellison library, I mean I think the glistening thing was when you came here, there were black library books here, they picked out certain stuff for us to read. I was always best of my biographies, I think I liked the jazz age the most cause they was doing that bootleg liquor, I thought that bootleg liquor was some kind of cool bath tub gin and that was kind of hot to me. So I was, I think I was attracted to that and because of that, the 20s and 30s was the jazz age and the Harlem renaissance, and when I started, got exposed to the Harlem renaissance, then I realized that there was this whole trade of black thought that was untapped. That we didn’t just have to write protest novels, we could have a type of Zora Neal Hurston character who liked, who looked at black culture and said “it’s ok if you say y’all,” and it bees like that, she thought there was nothing negative or inferior about that, but then there was also those people who, like Jessie Faucet who wanted a more refined black literature. And that was just fascinating to me, and I saw this stuff in the community. I think Oklahoma City is, at that time, probably still is, is a very interesting study. Black people here actually, when you think about accomplishment and what they achieved, they’re doing pretty good compared to the rest of the nation. And I think just the unique location, the history, and that we do have a strong, have a strong bible, scriptural base here. People still hold onto the old- I'm not gonna say old southern values cause we’re kind of in the Midwest, but they have what I call black American values, they kind of you know church, family,
VD - Kind of like ‘em, country, when people call me country,
AZ - Yes yes!
VD - I mean it's fine, I'm ok being country, cause that means something.
AZ - Right. I think that’s another thing. And then also when you’re in Oklahoma, growing up, you don’t see so much, so you kind of thirst for it, you know, if you have to wait years for a black play, or 5 years for an art show, once you get exposed to it, you can’t get enough. And then you go to places like the studio museum in Harlem, or the Decibo (?) museum, or I think we went, when we were in college, and we saw this museum dedicated to black people, and we were like wait a minute, this is it. So, it’s a hunger, for books by far. That’s the thing that set the standard. I mean now, with the internet, it's just amazing that people don’t take advantage, I mean don’t want to know. It's kind of like, what is it Mamocloud bthrooms (?) said, don’t you have to have a thirst for not.
VD - You have to have a thirst for not. You sure did.
AZ - I think again, books. That’s what's done.
VD - Tell me about your vocal music training, church?
AZ - Lessie Church. I was singing in the sunbeam choir. At that church, you start singing in the sunbeam choir, and then you move to the young people choir, and then you move to the adult choir. Well, when I joined church in, and of course, when you join, you automatically get pushed into the choir whether you can sing or not, there was an option to sing a solo, and we had some kind of older, some preteen that was still in that choir. And, I remember, I was trying to sing this song, and it was hilarious cause I could not sing that, it was completely out of my range, but we had a choir director, and she just was always saying just sing chillin. So we would just sing, and when I was trying to sing this solo, and the teenagers didn’t want to get embarrassed on Sunday because we were in front of a whole church. So I heard them say, he can’t sing that solo cause he doesn’t sound good. And I thought, you know my feelings were hurt, cause I just felt bad, you know to have these teenagers plot to have you dethroned before Sunday, so I went home, and I practiced and I practiced, and I was just so nervous about the whole thing, but something in my mind made up and I said, look, Im’ma learn how to sing, so a couple years later, I got old enough and I told my mother, I said you know, and I was trying to guise it, cause I really wanted to sing in a band, went to my mother, I said well, I'm gonna sing in church, if you pay for me to have voice lessons so I can sing solos in church, so she wrote the check for that and I went to, I think Roche, I called him Roche, it was his last name, was a music teacher downtown. And I started taking that in high school, and then when I finished with him, he gave me a recommendation to the late Thomas Carey, who was a professor at the University of Oklahoma, and I went down and auditioned and luckily got a vocal music scholarship and I studied vocal music. But it was a lesson, because Thomas Carey was a very famous tenor, baritone excused me, and he and his wife the late Carel Bryce, they had won a Grammy for their role in the Houston Production of Porgy and Bess back in the day, so.
VD - Wow, you want to sing a song for me?
AZ - Not today, can’t sing today. Lets see, we’re gonna sing one of your old standards, because I just love blues. *Singing: Them that's got shall get, Them that's not shall lose, So the Bible says and it still is news, Mama may have, Papa may have, But God bless the child that's got his own, That's got his own.”
VD - Man, thank you for that.
AZ - Thank you for this interview.
VD - Well tell me, we’re not finished, who is your favorite, writer, author?
AZ - My favorite author is Tony Morrison.
VD - Why? You don’t have to work so hard for...
AZ - No, we can’t say that, that’s what people always said about Tony Morrison, and when you say you have to work hard, what’s that old saying, anything worth having is worth working for? What I like about Tony Morrison is that, her impetus for writing, is she wanted to create a voice for black people, a unique literary voice. And it didn’t mean that she had to write like Faulkner, or Didion, or Wolfe, or any of those, or Hemingway. She didn’t have to follow their, their guise. She wanted to create- she used English, the same English that those authors used, but she gave it a distinct twist, in that it was a black voice, an educated black voice, and analyzing all the things she once talked about, from, her book jazz, which was not about jazz music, a lot of people get kinda, fall about that, but it was a way of writing that reminisce, the improvisational, aspect of jazz. “To Paradise,” which is phenomenal, because it talks about the black towns of Oklahoma, she wants to give a voice, and in working for it, I always think we sell ourselves short when we say, she’s so hard, I can’t understand it. There's nothing about it you can’t understand. That, that borders on lazy. So we can’t say we don’t understand her if we don’t try, she even said once, that books are kind of like music, if we buy a record, we want to listen, we listen to that record a hundred times. But when we get books, in literature, we read it once and think “that’s it, that’s all,” you know, “I got the story.” But when you read things, like “Song of Soloman,” which I read every year, when you read Song of Soloman over and over, you get something different. You hear your voice. You hear the things that you thought, the things that you dreamed about, some of the things that you’re scared of. And you say, its ok, I’m a black person, I can do those things, I can think those things, but there's a way I can transcend all that, I don’t have to just stay down there, wherever society or the world puts me. I have a unique black voice, it needs to be heard, it needs to be, you know, out there.
VD - Who is your favorite visual artist?
AZ - My favorite visual artist would have to be, that’s a tossup cause I love Romare Bearden, I like Louis McJones, Jacob Lawrence, but the best would have to be, Romare Bearden, I love his collages.
VD - Favorite musician.
AZ - Favorite musician, you mean instrumental?
VD - Vocal.
AZ - Oh that’s hands down Whitney Houston. But that’s just for times, vocal music there is nobody greater for soul music than Aretha... we have to look at the genius Billie Holiday, because what she was doing, nobody was doing before her, she wasn’t trained. It's that genius, taking a limited vocal instrument and then just exercising genius all over the place. Instrumentalist, it would probably have to be Duke Ellington. Just because he composed so many, classics, I mean, he’s classic.
VD - He’s the duke.
AZ - He’s the duke.
VD - Ok, let’s go back to, your formative years, well not so formative, OU, you chose to take a stand and be involved in, I won’t say civil rights, but, you know it was our movement at the time, and that was Free Nelson,
AZ - Nelson Mendela,
VD - Why did you get involved in activism?
AZ - Well, the first- I met you the first week of college, and there was a march on, I think it was Debarr Hall, he was a gentleman that was named after a klan member. Well, I think, when I looked at going to college, we saw like the colleges of the 60s and 70s where they was just massive protests going on about everything civil rights. So when I went to college, I was expecting that, and I thought that was what college was all about, basically I didn’t really think it was all that studying. So we got there that first week, and 12 or 13 people showed up and I was like “this ain’t no rally! This is not unrest!” so,
VD - Where the people at?
AZ - Where the people at? You know I thought there would multitudes of people just bursting down the hall cause this was a Klan member, and how dare he in 1983 be at the university, have a building named after him at OU. What about those in in endowments, those endowments, those krugerrands, I just,
VD - Free Nelson!
AZ - Free Nelson, I think the activism was, was I think there was just certain people in each generation that feel that, that urge, and I think that’s why we clicked as friends. I just felt that. It was like, it was the right thing to do, and I think even, one thing about community, it always encourages, encouraged us, this community, always just encouraged us to speak out when something, when injustice occurred. I mean, specifically to black people, but just injustices in general. When we were on campus, I think we passed out like passbooks that the Africans had to carry, we made these copies, and like it didn’t seem like anybody was paying attention, it was like “what are y’all doing, y’all gonna move back to africa people,” but I did believe that I was a black panther in my former life, so I'm about- this is what I had to do. But, I think there were just certain people that- and in your job it may not seem like you’re doing a whole lot, but you’re enlightening somebody, and I think that’s what we did for a lot of people that we didn’t even know that we touched. And the fact that those things, whether our small contribution helped or not, the hall was renamed. They did divess, Nelson Mandela walked free. You know, in our lifetime. And apartheid was lifted somewhat. So actually, we were three for three, so that was pretty good,
VD - Yeah, because of all of that.
AZ - So yeah, I, I just think that’s a part, there's just certain people, and that’s just one of them.
VD - Well your journey took you away from Oklahoma.
AZ – Yeah,
VD - And you have just returned for a short visit. How has northeast Oklahoma changed?
AZ - I think it's kind of like what, I saw Lena Horn make a statement a few years back. She said her people are so angry, and they don’t know what they’re angry about, and I think that’s the thing that I see now. The troubles I mean, the northeast quadrant is growing in certain ways, I've seen the housing boom, I see some neighborhood gentrification going on, I think I'm more troubled about my young black brothers, because I think there is just, there’s something amiss there, there's something that’s happening, whether its education, whether its disenfranchisement, there is something going on, and this community has to save them. That's the most troubling thing. On the way here, police had stopped, there were 12 police stopping 1 car, and I'm like what could he have done that took 12 police. That’s a siege to me. Something's going on. Every- at least 3 times this week I've seen more than 4 or 5 patrol cars around the house, bringing brothers out in shackles. That is, that’s troubling. How to address it is another thing, because people, the community, some sections of the community are frightened, they’re afraid. We talk about these gangs, now I’m not sure I believe all this gang stuff in Oklahoma, having seen it in LA, Chicago, Atlanta, some of the bigger cities where they really have gangs. I think we have a lot of, pretenders here, that wannabes, that are quite for somebody to pay attention to them. I think that’s the type of thing, it’s, you can’t go, I worry about my mom going to the grocery store sometimes at night, I worry about it if she's at the seven-11 just to get a soda, because these guys prey, they ask you for money, some of them are legitimate, some of them aren't. But there’s just too much of that. During the daytime, there are just too many black men walking up and down the street that are work age, you know, it’s frightening.
VD - How does your mother make her peach cobbler?
AZ - With love and care, that’s the family secret, can’t tell anybody.
VD - Is there anything else you’d like to say, or you’d like for us to know about you?
AZ - No, I think, well it’s, it's fun to be a part of this. We’re kind of in history in the making. But I think there are voices that need to be heard, something that we often always talked about is complexity in black lives. And we’ve always been kind of askew of, the norm. But I think they need to, there are different aspects of the black voice that need to be heard. We need to hear single mothers, we need to hear families, we need to hear only children, we need to hear children of 12 siblings. We need to hear those voices, hear their stories, and get that hope. And I think that’s probably the thing troubled me most when you ask about what’s different is there is no hope. People don’t know a way out. And they’re not proud, like I said, when we were young, I bowled at the Bryant center, it was all black, and it was alright, it was fun, people watched out, I mean our children weren’t afraid, you know to go down the street. Now, children are basically homebound.
VD - A little different.
AZ - So that’s it.
VD - Well thank you Anthony.
AZ - Thank you Vernona.
VD - I love you.
AZ - I love you.