The boiling point for my grandparents living the south is when their eldest son Eddie died. He was sick and only seven. They took him to the hospital hoping to get help. “We waited in the waiting room into every white child that was sick had been took care of.” When he was finally seen they just looked at him and said he would be fine. The white doctors sent him home from the hospital with a temperature of a 106. Two days later Edward Jr. died. When he died and we knew it was time for us to leave. “I was so angry but I knew my baby was better dead because all he had in Mississippi was hatred towards him because the color of his skin.”