Ben thinks back to the summer he turned 12 when he saw the lynching.
He and his buddy Jacob used to smoke cigarettes in a vacant lot. It made them feel like men.
One Monday in August, they were smoking back there—even though they weren't supposed to—when they saw three Black guys shooting the breeze in the street.
One of the guys, George, was saying how Black people do everything around there; he'd like to see the white people take care of themselves for a while. Imagine that.
Ben knows George isn't supposed to talk like this, and George knows it, too, because when some white men come over to teach George a lesson, he runs.