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69 4 Central Alabama Heats Up The time is always right to do what is right. —Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Benny Tucker, a student at Selma University, became actively involved in the Selma campaign. I often let him use my car, fondly called the “movement car.” He was out running office errands one day and had a wreck. He ran smack into the back of a car at a traffic light, unquestionably his fault. The other driver turned out to be a white schoolteacher who lived in the county. Her husband was a farmer. The very fact that my car had rear-ended this woman could be fuel for a fire that no amount of water could extinguish. I was on pins and needles waiting for the police to come and arrest me. I was afraid that the woman might have had whiplash and that they could take everything I had and run me out of town. After a few days I got a phone call from a deputy sheriff about the accident. I braced myself for the worst, praying the woman was not hurt. The deputy told me, “I know the husband of the woman who was driving the car. I talked to him and the man said he doesn’t want to cause any trouble. All he wants is for his car to be repaired. The farmer’s going to get an estimate of how much it will cost and get back in touch with me.” He told me not to discuss this with anyone else, that it was a private conversation between the two of us. He also said that the farmer was an older man with a hearing problem and his wife was a younger woman. A few days later the deputy called to let me know that the cost of repairs was going to be $150. The next thing he said was, “Tomorrow, meet me and the farmer at 4:30 in the morning outside of town on a rural road to pay the money in cash. Come alone and don’t tell anyone about this meeting—no one.” I wanted to get this situation resolved. I hadn’t been able to eat or sleep for days. This request seemed odd, and I didn’t 70 IN PEACE AND FREEDOM know what was going to happen. Even though the deputy told me not to tell anyone, I told Mrs. Boynton, and she advised me not to go, fearing for my life. Only a fine line exists between courage and foolishness. I reasoned back and forth. Should I go, should I not? What would happen if I went? What would happen if I didn’t go? What was their real plan? I knew I had to pay the money I owed the farmer for the car, that much was certain. Maybe this deputy was honest, but I didn’t know. I figured that he was being secretive either because he didn’t want Jim Clark to find out that he was helping me or because he was planning to sabotage me. Finally, after much deliberation, I decided to trust the deputy sheriff and to believe in the farmer. I took a high risk and whispered a few prayers throughout a sleepless night. At 4:15 a.m. I climbed into my car and drove out of town to the designated meeting place, alone. The night was a dark, eerie gray with a half moon edging in and out of clouds. In the distance I saw two lone vehicles pulled off the side of the road. I parked behind the farmer ’s pickup truck and the deputy’s car. My mind flooded with concerns. Would they accept the money and then it would all be over? Would they set me up, claiming I had money to buy drugs? Would they plant a gun in my hand, alleging that they had to shoot me in self-defense? I was ready to die, at the worst. But really, the worst would have been being put in prison for a trumped-up charge or beaten up and crippled for life. It was in their hands. I knew how difficult it was to win justice in the courts of Selma. I put my trust in God and prayed a silent prayer. Taking a few deep breaths, I waited in my car a few minutes, looking around to see who else might show up. My car door moaned as I pushed...

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