On that ride, I occasionally thought about what we did to Pilchard. My guilt had far more to do with our intent, which was to weaponize our city like a gun. It was also that I simply went along with things. As to my shame, that was retroactive, it was in hindsight. For what could we know, then, really, living in our tiny world on that infinite little island? And how lucky we were, as we grew older, to begin to unlearn such things—but not yet, not then. I am no apologist—“We were boys”—I grant no pardons. Our education was spatial. Racial. Tribal. Urban. American. But mostly—and this is the
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