Memories

Summer is approaching so I’m busy raising money to hire the boys.

As I looked through old notes, I stumbled upon our first sign-in sheet. I smiled. I didn’t know these boys before that day. I remember they walked in, skeptical of me, disbelieving that I wanted to offer them a job.

I explained the work to them, “You will be hired as community organizers.”

How-much we-get-paid was all they wanted to know.

“Ten dollars an hour,” I replied.

“Yes sir, we wanna work,” they said with a southern twang.

I smiled at the memory. But the smile quickly turned to grimace. Mitch and Vince won’t be with me this summer. They await trial.