Turn Me Loose: The Unghosting of Medgar Evers

The N-Word

8 Th e N-Word Charles Evers Hearing that word launched from the back of any throat brings back the smell of German shepherd breath of fresh gasoline and sulfur air of fear—both ours and theirs. I hear nine brave children walking a gauntlet of hate in Little Rock and four innocent little girls lifted up to heaven too soon. Instead of a rebel yell I hear a rifle bark. Instead of a whiskey-soaked yee haw I hear a window break and children sobbing for a father face down in a pool of blood. You can never turn that word around and make it cool. . . . It’s not a word of love. —chuck d 9 I hear all my faith collapse on the wings of a woman’s scream. I can’t hear anything less and absolutely nothing funny. ...