My friendship with four boys who lived next door to Big Momma made me further question whether I wanted to follow in my uncle’s footsteps. Their dad was a music minister in a local church, and he did all he could to protect them from the streets. They weren’t allowed to leave their front yard and barely left their house. Typical OJs. Other kids in the neighborhood made fun of them—not just because they were sheltered church boys, but also because they were talented musicians and songwriters. Their dad was training them to play instruments, and even though their musical skills would be
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