Our grandfather was considered the blacksheep in a family of primarily fair-skinned blacks in the 1920s. He was more or less sold into indentured servitude to a Hotel owner in Kansas city USA. In time he ran that hotel - which did not go over so well in the South. He was ran out of town which forced him to move northward to New York City. Circumstances left him living homeless on the streets. Nearly frozen to death, he was rescued and taken in by a black one-armed World War 1 Army veteran who my Dad called Uncle Prom. Now a black man is President of the United States and I'm president of an advertising agency in Philadelphia. Go figure.