WHY THEY STOPPED
Later, while some of them stirred chili in our kitchen and others stood outside speaking with neighbors who had finally stepped out, I asked the leader why they chose to stop.
He leaned back in one of our dining chairs that seemed too small beneath him.
“When I was twelve,” he said, “I heard my mother cry for help. I stayed in my room because I was scared. I promised myself I’d never do that again.”
The room fell still.
“So when I hear someone call out like that,” he continued, “I don’t ignore it.”
There was no theatrics in his voice. Only honesty.
