Jack W
Long ago, I worked in home health, had a gentleman in his late 90’s. He was dying from lung cancer. On what turned out to be my last visit, he asked to sit and talk for a few minutes.
He said, “when I was 12 I lived with my family in Mississippi. One night my father told me a young black, (his words), had grabbed my older sister in a bad way. He took me to a very rural area, had me get out of the truck and showed me the dead body. He then handed me a shovel and made me help him dig a big hole for the body. He never told me how he had killed him or anything, and swore me to secrecy. I have asked God for forgiveness, but I guess I’m going to hell.”
I was pretty stunned and didn’t actually know what to say, so I said I would say a prayer him and the young victim. I called a friend who was a policemen and asked him who I should report this to, he said he would check and call me back.
However, I was notified the next morning the patient had died, so when I talked to my friend again, he said just drop it, it happened over 80 years ago and he is dead. Still, I think about this every so often….
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