Mississippi Burning: 3rd person omniscient narrative
While in the north, coloureds and whites ate together, deep in the south the coloured sat at the rear of diners, not looking up from their meal and separated by the thin line of segregation. The coloured were lucky if they had a bath, while the white paid money for someone to comb their hair a certain way. The strong white man drank from his pristine tap, while the young coloured boy drank from the broken, rusting tap reserved for coloured. The coloured lay awake at night, fearing the worst, while the whites’ slumber was peaceful.
While white house-wives were beaten for revealing their husbands’ deepest secrets, punched, slapped and kicked until they were bleeding and lifeless. White school kids were taught about segregation, told that’s what is says in the bible.
The Klan held their meetings, led by the Grand Wizard, marching together, practising their rituals. And in the darkness of the night, they attacked, preying on the weak and anyone who was seen doing something they shouldn’t have or talking to someone they shouldn’t be, was lynched. The coloured were senselessly beaten and left for dead. Children were forced to protect their siblings, even when they were still scared, running from their home and losing their parents, while the rest of the white children unknowingly played in their yards.
The Sherriff’s department drank until their memories of that night were gone; their alcohol induced laughter rang through the streets as they stumbled home. And buried in an earthen dam, on the outskirts of Jessup County, were 3 civil rights activists who