Experiment 2

I was a rich landlord in Boston. I was quite tall but stooped. I wore a tall silk top hat and had a gold-handled cane. My shoes had shoe buttons...my name was Nathain Smith.

My death in a park in the city was poetry itself. It was snowing, I looked at the stars in the night sky and fell with a heart attack in the snow.

Lessons

I had nothing as a Negro boy. I had everything as a rich landlord. Darn, you can't take it with you. But you can take the lessons, and the balance, and the fairness. I prided myself as being fair. Even to those "beneath my station" as Mr. Smith. Although I was rich, I had also been kind, thus my beautiful death was a mercy instead of a rock in the head.