If you didn’t have the character or courage or moral discernment to call a wrong a wrong when it was taking place, don’t expect sympathy years later when it appears that all you’re doing is jumping on a lynch-mentality bandwagon
I have a vivid memory of putting on my mother’s high heels and covering my head with the veiled hat she wore on special occasions. All decked out, I made my way up The Boulevard in New Haven to our neighbor’s home about four houses away.
And on that sojourn, I have an equally vivid memory of a man sitting on his porch and stopping me in my tracks with his comments. “Well well well, Missy, don’t we look pretty! And where would you be going today looking so beautiful?”