What I really meant to say was that in 1962 there were no no-go zones anywhere in America, Crackerjack Peckerwood Creek in the deep back asshole of Alabama where no one without a mullet in a Camaro would want to go anyway excepted. (Alas, in 1962 there were no Camaros either.)
Trust me, I went to high school in Howard County, Maryland, and I would be the last person in the world to speak up for the indigenous American peckerwood. However, I also note that there's a big difference between Peckerwood, Alabama being a no-go zone (if your skin is darker than a bad white zinfandel), and half of Brooklyn being a no-go zone (for any sane person regardless of race, color or creed).