Finally, there was the matter of putting me on trial for 35 counts of incitement to riot resulting in death. In a lifetime a person tries to share thoughts and insights with those around them, but you never really understand how much influence you have had. Oh, perhaps you’ll hear something you said or wrote repeated in another way, in another form, but the opportunities are few to gauge the impact of your life. That is why I look back on my trial with such gratitude.
The day broke with bright sunshine, a dazzling orange and blue display of beauty. The air itself felt sweet; as I wrote before, yes, it was the great machines at work, but I imagined the sweet smell of freedom on that day when a trial was to begin to determine whether I would spend the next several decades in incarceration.
As always Buffalo and John Hemlock accompanied me into the courtroom, she with her beautiful scowl and he with his peaceful grin.
“It’s an absolute crime that you’re the one who’s standing trial,” Buffalo said, looking back at the empty gallery that would soon be filled with prospective jurors, journalists and the curious.
“There’s a reason why everything happens,” John replied. “All things work to the good for those who believe.” I have to admit his confident smile may have begun to wear on my nerves. I wanted to tell him he wasn’t the one who might end the week serving a life prison sentence.
But: “I sure hope you’re right, John,” is what I actually said.
In hindsight it wasn’t that he was right, but how he was right, that makes me laugh telling the story.
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