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wondering what you were doing?"

"Praying to the Lord, only he can help Eli now."

"No, I was wondering what you were doing about it? About your brother, I mean."

"Nothing I can do Mr. Pearson, those white folks, they got all the power, all the money, and it says right here in this paper that is all you need."

"No, son, you're wrong there the first thing you can do is hold your head up high, dry those tears, and you stand tall like a man."

"What good is that gonna do Eli?" Justin asked his voice filled with contempt.

"It will sure help him recognize you when we march down to that courthouse to get some answers," Herb smiled and his eyes lit up with a feeling he had never known. He was proud of himself for trying to help this young man.

"What do you mean," Justin asked in disbelief. Surely, this was not the same man who had lived across the street from the Lawson's all of Justin's life. This could not be the same man who had watched as Justin was almost beaten to death last summer by an East Chicago gang, never lifting a finger to help him.

" I mean, son, go put on a good pair of walking shoes."

"Walking shoes? Its gotta be twenty, no, thirty miles to the courthouse from here."

"Really? Thirty miles to downtown Chicago? I'd have sworn it was further."

"Yeah, its at least thirty miles, Mr. Pearson."

"Well, how much does Eli mean to you son?"

* * *
By the time Justin and Herb Pearson were ready to leave, over one hundred neighbors, friends, and relatives had been invited to join them. So at 10:00 A.M. on a typical day, one hundred people began walking through the streets of Gary, Indiana heading towards Chicago. And each street they traveled and every house they passed contributed a member or two, so that by the time the group reached the Illinois State Line they had grown to over 5,000. And as they walked through the streets of Chicago all the people noticed.

By the time Justin Lawson reached the courthouse he had more people trailing behind him than he could see to count. And further back, waiting, was the Chicago Police department. The group arrived chanting, stomping, and screaming at whoever would listen.

" NO MORE LIES! FREE ELI LAWSON! STOP THE LIES! GIVE US ELI LAWSON!"

"Riots and mobs are not in any way an original idea because people with a common need come together, sometimes in large numbers. They bring with them the demands of change and they take their chances. This group of people came together in search of justice and answers but what they found was a precinct

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