The first month went by without incident. My brother Charles had been sent to a boys detention center til he turned eighteen at the least. My mother had seemed to the resign herself to his fate, knowing it wouldn't really change him.

It was the the beginning of the summer of 1962. I came home from the last day of school and entered into my home.

My mother was there and my other siblings were off already playing with other kids in the neighborhood. My older brother Charles was in the local juvenile facilities for some other stupid crime he had committed. My mother was sitting at the kitchen table sobbing and looked at me with a desperate look upon her face.