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Osceola, for Jimmy, for Richard, for Beauford, for Chuck, for Willie, for my grandmother, my mother, Leah, Thelma, Jessie, Alex, W.D. Beau, for all the people whom have been kind - who care - for Red Allen - for George Reed - for Mabel Mercer, for George lovely George - protect him - for Ann Scotford-
we near the barricades, the entry into a hell that men have erected to honor their guilt - the closeness of bodies, the raised clubs  - the revolvers, the machine guns pointed at us - the silence broken only by feet walking, the spits and quiet curses, the two way radios, the cameras
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of the Troopers clicking, the ABC, NBC, CBS cameras whirring - 
the intense glare of hate filled whites standing back, the eyes - never have I seen such eyes, consumed with fear that hates, the mirrors of souls that have damned themselves. We walk slowly - purposefully - with full dignity - 
we stop for lights after we took our first right into the boarder of no mans land - then
Here - here on this spot where my foot has touched Rev. Reeb gave his measure here - but then is not the same - in the most sordid places - the ultimate beauty seems to happen - strange -