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"Forsyth Co., Ga
January 16, '86
Hosea Williams

He's cut to the bone
GBI wants to talk
No way
He's praying
They come back and are told
It's a long Baptist prayer

Deacon Lunchbox

It's hard for me to believe 10 years have passed since the march in Forsyth. I went to the big walk the following weekend, not because I thought Hosea is a great man, but because I don't care what your beliefs are, you don't throw a brick at another human being. Probably the most moving part of the entire march was when we topped a hill on the way to the courthouse and, turning around, you could see just how many people, thousands upon thousands, had shown up for the event. As wide as the road, as far as the eye could see, walking between the line of national guardsmen. We were close to the front of the march and some of the marchers were singing "We shall overcome" softly but they were drowned out by cheers as everyone turned at once to see how many of us there were. You couldn't count. I was 18, leather jacket, sunglasses covering the tears beginning to swell in my eyes, and if a brick had come over the line of guardsmen I like to think I wouldn't have even picked it up to throw it back. It's days like that that make me forget what petty, dispicable animals many of us humans are.

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