Shoot.
After waiting and waiting
we lose in the highest court
in the state of Virginia.
The lawyers,
they expected that.
But Judge Carrico agreed with our lawyers.
He said that our first sentence was
cruel and unusual punishment—
six years of not being able
to travel home together to see
our families.
I’m glad he sees that.
And now our case can go
to the U.S. Supreme Court.
And while our lawyers
get ready for this next part of our case—
they say our sentence is
stayed.
Which means Richard and I can return
to our farmhouse
and live together in Virginia
and no one can
arrest us.
Just maybe we’ll sleep
a little easier,
knowing that no sheriff
can drive up to our house,
walk right in,
and go shining lights in our eyes
in the middle of the night.
And then Mr. Cohen says
someone could make a mistake
and the sheriff might still try
to arrest us.
I’m scared of Sheriff Brooks.
You never know what he’ll do.
Anyway,
if we get arrested,
we’ll call Mr. Cohen
and he’ll get us right out.
He promises.
That’s what I understand.
Mr. Cohen says
Judge Leon Bazile has done us a real nice favor
making that racist statement.
“The Almighty God placed
the races on their own continents . . .”
Indeed!
the kind of wild anger I felt
when I was a child.
Mr. Cohen and Mr. Hirschkop
care that Richard and I
are tired of all this,
that we’re struggling with money,
that we’ve paid out so much for Richard’s gas money,
and he’s been gone so long each day—
but being home
will be wonderful.
Clearly, they are excited
about taking our case to the very top.
And then we go outside where the newsmen
are all gathered.
For the camera, I say,
“If we do win, we’ll be helping a lot of people.”
We pick up the kids
at my parents’ house and go to the farmhouse.
I walk out into the field with
Sidney, Don, and Peggy.
I watch them run and yell,
their voices
muffled by the wind.
stands around on the stubbly land—
until the children run at them.
The crows take off,
float on the wind.
Some try to make their way
into the wind, but the wind
won’t allow it.
The crows seem to say,
I want to go over there
but the wind says, No, I want you here.
So they let the wind carry them
real graceful on outstretched wings.
I think,
that’s like our life.
We’re those crows.
The wind is casting us around—
go live here,
now you can live there,
now get on over there.
You can’t control the wind.
They say we’re making progress.