“Those days were heady and full. We were changing the world, and we knew it. We lived and thrived on adrenaline, on passion and purpose. Your mother wasn’t any different. If you’re asking how I remember her—I remember her laughing, full of life and ideas. She was the organizer, always the organizer. Tireless in her plans and means to get us where we wanted to go. We would meet and the entire time she would be taking notes, making charts and graphs to make sure that we were at the right place at the right time.”

I laughed. “Yes, that was Mother. The planner. The organizer.”

“But she did it with this great heart and laughter.”

“No”—I shook my head—“that’s the part I didn’t know of her. The planning, yes. The execution of the plans, yes. The organizing, definitely.”

He pursed his lips. “I’m sorry for that, Ellie. I am.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry for you that you didn’t know her like that. She was a joy.”

“What do you think changed her?” I asked, prying and pulling at the threads of the past from this man I’d just met.

“We all change. We must. I was angrier then. She was more passionate then.” He shrugged.

“This group,” I said. “There were how many of you?”

“There were six of us for the most part, but others came and went through the two summers.”

“Did she date any of the boys?”

“Now how would I remember that?”

“It seems like something one would remember about those days.”

“It does seem that way, doesn’t it? But you have to remember—all I cared about was making sure that I didn’t sit in the back of the bus, that I could walk into a café and not be asked to leave. Ellie …” He leaned forward again, reaching out his hands as if grabbing for something. “I do remember this: She helped take Otis to the emergency room after the Montgomery riot. That I remember—she was like an avenging angel, screaming at the emergency room doctors that if they didn’t take him in, they’d all burn in an eternal hell. I think they believed her.” He laughed this low, bellowing laugh like an instrument I’ve never heard, a mysterious musical instrument from God alone.

My body tingled with knowledge: He was there—this man was also there, and he knew the best friend, Otis, who was beaten and left for dead. “Who was she with? Who else went to the ER besides you and her?”

He stared at me as if he knew this was the only information I had come for and the only information he was unwilling to share.

“I don’t remember,” he said. “Listen, Ellie. The only thing I cared about was my future. That’s all. I wanted my state and my kin to have a different life.”