I was in Memphis with the Syracuse football team when after practice I rented a car intending to drive to an antique store where I had been told had old poker chips. I hit the freeways; got lost and found myself headed to Arkansas. I "deplaned" at the last eaxit before the big river and found myself going south; thinking I would hit the southern stretch of the freeway I continued on and the began seeing road side signs for Tunica casinos. So I gave up shopping and headed on. I too found the several joined casinos and pulling into the Horseshoe, headed for the poker room; the maniacs were not there; the game was soft and I began making some money. I was hungry and asked the dealer if we could order at the table;about that time a guy in the 1 seat got an enormous steak sandwich dripping in sauce; I ordered the same; no charge; just a tip. I made a couple of hundred and left starting up the 2 lane highway to Memphis when the mother of all storms hit; I missed a critical tutrn off to the east bound free way and found myself back in the city--AND the gas gauge turned red. Unlike any other rental car the tank was not filled. I pulled off the highway looking for a gas station. It was now growing on midnight. I found one and made it to the pumps just in time. went inside to pay and discovered I was the only white person in the station and probably in the area. I told the attendant I was lost and a young Black fellow looked at me, laughed, and said, "You sure are boy. Wher you supposed to be?" I gave him the name of the eastern Memphis motel where the team was staying and he said, "Follow me." He got in a car, pulled out and with me in tow started through some dark streets. I'll not say what I was thinking or fearing, when he braked, honked and pointed to a freeway entrance sign. I made it, found the hotel and had a drink at that bar thinking what a day: no chips; big sandwich; $200 richer; and rethinking my racial fears.