I must have had faith that day. When I went out, I was Henry Fonda again. An unemployed actor but a man.
Stone Mountain, Georgia, still had Ku Klux Klan marches, and I had a wild and courageous mother who'd put us in the car to watch them. She wanted us to know those things existed.
For basically two years, I took acting classes and found my own stride in L.A.
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