A Fictional Story About a Bomb at a Baptist Church by White Supremacists
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“How many people were killed, Scout,” queries Atticus.
“Only four Negro girls were killed. The girls were Addie Mae Collins, Cynthia
Wesley, Carole Robertson, and Denise McNair (in-text citation). All of them were fourteen years old except for Denise McNair, who was eleven years old (in-text citation). Robert Chambliss (in-text citation) and I went through all that trouble and only four Negro girls were killed! I was at least hoping that we would kill John Cross, Junior (in-text citation)!”
“John Cross, Junior has a very generous heart! He is the person who called for help and looked in the rubble for any bodies or survivors, so you can stop that! Because of what you did, John Cross, Junior is now worried about having another attack at the church. He has to try to fight society, and that is not something that a minister should have to do. Just because we live in Birmingham where most discriminate against Negroes, doesn’t mean you have to act that way, too,” Atticus scolds me with his lawyer voice. “You don’t get to talk to me that way, Atticus! I am not one of your clients! I am your daughter!” “Just tell me why you did it.” “Did what?” I respond sarcastically. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
“How can I forget when all you do is talk about it? Why do you care? I’m the one who had to worry about getting caught. What if someone recognized me?”
“Scout, why did you help Robert Chambliss bomb the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church in Birmingham?”