The inspiring story of the woman at the center of the historic discrimination case that inspired the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Restoration Act, her fight for equal rights in the workplace, and how her determination became a victory for the nation Lilly Ledbetter always knew that she was destined for something more than what she was born into: a house with no running water or electricity in the small town of Possum Trot, Alabama. In 1979, when Lilly applied for her dream job at the Goodyear tire factory, she got the job. She was one of the first women hired at the management level. Nineteen years after her first day at Goodyear, Lilly received an anonymous note revealing that she was making thousands less per year than the men in her position. When she filed a sex-discrimination case against Goodyear, Lilly won--and then heartbreakingly lost on appeal. Over the next eight years, her case made it all the way to the Supreme Court, where she lost again. But Lilly continuted to fight, becoming the namesake of President Barack Obama's first official piece of legislation. Both a deeply inspiring memoir and a powerful call to arms, Grace and Grit is the story of a true American icon. “Compelling . . . This story of a lifelong struggle for fairness deserves to be widely read not only as a document of a case so stunningly unjust that it sparked legislative change, but also as an introduction to a remarkable woman who also happens to be an outstanding storyteller.” — Ms. “Inspirin . . . Frank and feisty.” — Kirkus Reviews “A riveting and inspiring story of a true American hero from Possum Trot, Alabama, who in her own compelling voice tells the story of how she broke down barriers throughout her life, and in the process gave all women in this country the right to get equal pay. A must read.” —Marcia Greenberger, Co-President, National Women’s Law Center LILLY LEDBETTER was an overnight supervisor at the Alabama Goodyear Tire and Rubber Co. for nineteen years. She was the plaintiff in the American employment discrimination case Ledbetter v. Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co. and inspired the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Restoration Act. She lives in Jacksonville, Alabama.   LANIER SCOTT ISOM is a writer who lives with her husband and their two children in Birmingham, Alabama. Chapter 1 Possum Trot Have you heard of the Nothing impossible possum Whose faith and belief made His dream to blossom? --Marjorie Ainsborough Decker, The Christian Mother Goose Book of Nursery Rhymes If you grow up in Possum Trot, Alabama, you run across some rough characters from time to time. You might even be related to a few. In truth, the tough guys at Goodyear weren't a far cry from what I'd seen and heard in the fields picking cotton or in the barn helping milk the cows at Aunt Lucille's dairy farm. I'll never forget the afternoon when my grandfather, Papa, decided he wanted to kill my dog, Buzz. Papa, who claimed to be part Irish, was so pale that he looked part ghost. I'm honestly not sure there was any good in him, but I can also say that he wasn't all that different from most of the other men around me. I was only five the day Papa came after Buzz, but my memory of that afternoon is clear as day. I was playing tea party in the front yard, scooping up dirt with a broken teacup Granny Mac had given me, and Buzz was my honored guest. As I set down a cup in front of Buzz, I heard Papa hollering down the road. I looked back at the house, hoping to see that Mama was still right inside the screen door cooking supper, and that she'd hear the racket in time to come out and protect me and Buzz. She wasn't. As Papa's large figure approached us, my stomach clenched. He was carrying something; it looked like a hoe. I'd never had a pet before, unless you count the rooster who used to follow me around. But one day Buzz had appeared out of nowhere. We immediately took to each other. He was a funny little dog, brown and white and black with one dark spot shaped like a pumpkin seed on the top of his forehead. I used to rub that spot like it was a good-luck penny. I figured his breed was part everything, with his big hound-dog eyes, those large feet he slapped in front of him like clown shoes, and that mismatched coloring pieced together like a crazy quilt. By the time Papa was close enough for me to make out what he was saying, Buzz had scooted under the house. "Where's that goddam worthless mutt?" he yelled. "He ain't worth killing." I couldn't say a word. I couldn't even move. My mouth was as dry as if I'd swallowed the cup of dirt. All I could think about was how Papa would slaughter the pigs in the smokehouse. I always got attached to one of them, so I made a point of being as far away from the smokehouse as possible when killing time came. I wanted no part of wash pots filled with boiling-hot water and the hanging, splitting, and dressing of the meat. But I did show up about the time sausage was frying in the deep black skillet. "Godd