Dad didn’t choose to stay with us out of honor and duty. That was part of it, sure—but not all. If he had acted out of loyalty, he wouldn’t feel the need to punish himself as he has. The truth is, there never was a real choice for him. Because he never had it in him to leave his own culture and go through the hell he’d have had to endure to share a life with Viola. What would that have been like in 1968? In Mississippi, it might have meant being murdered. But even up north, it meant being ostracized. Shunned. Constant stares . . . harsh words . . . getting kicked out of restaurants and hotels. He’d have been cut off from all the comfort of his former life, maybe even from his own parents and siblings.

Dad had wanted Viola, but he hadn’t wanted everything that came with her. He did a lot to help black people over the years, but he wasn’t willing to join their ranks. Not in that way. So he took the best that Viola had to offer and refused the worst. In the end, he let things unravel in the way that they do when you don’t stop them. For Dad, that meant a little guilt over the years. But for Viola . . . it meant a lifetime of suffering and regret.

Before I left the visiting room, Dad made a general sort of statement, something I took as guilty rambling. Now, drunk as I am, I remember it nearly word for word. He said: Our country’s messed up, son. Mortally wounded. And I can’t for the life of me see how we’re going to heal it. Your generation can’t do it. Even you’re too old. The new ones coming along . . . that’s where the hope lies, if there is any. We’ve got to acknowledge what we did to those people. But I don’t think we ever will. People hate admitting guilt, but we can’t blame it all on the Knoxes of the world. We’re all guilty. Blacks are messed up, too . . . but how could they not be? White people fight this so hard because they know the truth in their bones. You know? You don’t get that angry unless you know you’re wrong.

“Is that why you’re going to prison?” I asked him. “You’re taking on the sins of your race?”

“No,” he said. “I’m not that ambitious. I’m only doing penance for my own.”