Neighborly Wisdom

In 2012, I had two little boys. A toddler. An infant.
We always been Black.
I lived next door to an 80yr old man. I wanna say he was from Mississippi. He was a former metalworker and just as kind. Funny, too.

When the Denver County Sheriffs killed Marvin Booker, he and I had a long conversation. He started it. "They used to get to come to your front door and drag you out to do this. It was legal because the ones doing it were the law. Cops. Judges. Lawmakers. Who was gonna stop em? Now they have to wait for an excuse so they can blame it on you. Same people. Same tactics."

Then he told me a story about how they came to his house. The KKK. The cops. The judges. The lawmakers.

And his momma pulled out her gun.

And they told her to put it away or they'd arrest her.

And she said they'd die trying.

And they told her to just let them take the boys.

She shot em.

Just one.

The rest fled.

They came back.

She kept shooting.

Eventually, they stopped coming.

But my neighbor's family had to leave town because they knew they couldn't leave the house safely. That's how he ended up in Denver.

I know y'all like to say, "no justice, no peace." And I know y'all are also non-violent.

I don't know why y'all think the two are compatible stances. They aren't.

Imma go pretend like y'all love me now.

#BurnThatShitDown#PreCoffeeThoughts

ETA: because y'all long on thoughts and short on historical accuracy: He was 80something in 2012 and was telling a story about when he was a teenager. This ain't start in Ferguson. And MLK's marching didn't end it.