The stories of Emmett Till, Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King were called to my mind every time Shawn shouted at me to move to the next row. I saw their faces superimposed on every purlin Shawn welded into place that summer, so that by the end of it, I had finally begun to grasp something that should have been immediately apparent: that someone had opposed the great march toward equality; someone had been the person from whom freedom had to be wrested.
