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He was a prisoner. He wasn't locked up or behind bars but yet he was a prisoner. He was thrown into the deep,dark dungeons of the people's mind. It was society, in fact, that had imprisoned him.His crime, being that he only wanted to change the world. Fred Cruger had always been the level-headed person he was brought up as his ideas and principles had been drilled into his head by his father and he had never known otherwise. But now, it was different, he could feel it. As he had grown older and older, so had memories of his hard-hearted father, who had advised him in every aspect of his life. Now, he could hardly remember all the long winter nights spent in his father's musky and dark room, repeating over and over again, the rules of happy living.

America, during the fifties was changing. Everyone could feel it. People were beginning to realize the environment around them. More importantly, people began noticing the other people around them - the Blacks.

"Stupid Niggers," Fred's friends used to cry out to a group of men, with whom the only problem was their colour. "Go back to your African jungles, black boy! "they used to yell when a nigger had disobeyed them. "You are only a slave! They were having fun. They never realized what they were doing. America was like a white canvas of the world. Clean and pure. But slowly, these people were throwing the first droplets of black paint, thereby ruining the beauty and purity of a country admired by all.

For a long time, Fred had this attitude as well. Why not? Everyone else said it was the right thing. So every night he'd get drunk, go and abuse a black inncoent man. Then he'd go home and fall flat on his bed, satisfied, his good deed done for the day. But that was until the day,Jojo opened his tightly shut eyes for him and made him see the light.

Jojo was the little slave boy who worked on Fred's father's farm. He was only 10 years of age and whenever Fred's life seemed dull and boring, Jojo was the little spark which was needed to bring the smile on his face. One early Autumn morning, Jojo came running upto Fred.

"Master, Master!", he cried as little drops of water poured out of his eyes and onto his chubby cheeks. "My mama! They caught her and tied her to a truck and drove her all through the town. Now she's hanging on the tree down the road and she's not saying a word. Come and cut her down!" Fred was shocked. Lynching in Georgia? Was it possible?

He ran barefoot all the way down the road to find a big black crowd of people. Above them, hung a badly bruised black woman - dead. Had it come to this? We had started killing men and women for their colour: Jojo tugged at his sleeve.

"Why isn't she saying anything Master?, cut her down!" Fred turned away from the swinging lady. How was he going to tell Jojo? Doors of cars shut, high-heeled shoes clicked away and sneakers ran away from the scene until all that was left were Jojo and Fred. Now the time had come, he had to tell the boy... Jojo never came back to the house of the Crugers nor did he show his face to the people of Georgia. People said he was taken away by his uncle. It seemed the only person who missed him was Fred. Years passed on, but the memories of that horrific scene stayed on in Fred's mind. He had to do something. He had to stop this immoral injustice.

Then, a Sunday morning came by. Fred was out with his friends enjoying the summer breeze when tall black woman passed by. "Hey, black lady, your legs are too long for your body", a friend called out. Everyone laughed-except the lady and Fred.
"Why don't you just shut up, you're no better-looking yourself", replied Fred.
For a minute everyone was quiet.
"What's your problem, turning into a nigger lover?"
"No!"retorted Fred and walked away leaving his amazed friends and an equally astonished black woman.
From that day onwards things changed. No one came around to his house to visit and people looked at him with the corners of their mouths turned down. No one wanted to be associated with a "Nigger lover".

After that incident, Fred's attitude changed. He became proud to know the black people and spent more time helping them to regain their ruined lives. That was his mistake, that was his crime. He was picked up and thrown into the empty jail room with the board attached to him, reading, "BEWARE, BLACK LOVER". It seemed that way to Fred, anyway. No one listened to his words. What he had to say,how he justified his manner of conduct, no one cared. He helped those "coal people".That was all that mattered.

Every time he decided to tell or to teach the ignorant white community, he was shunned away as if he had a disease and was not to be looked at. His father was ashamed. Fred could tell by the way his father stayed away from him in a large crowd. His mother followed his father's ideas and so hardly looked at him.

Fred started to go to the Black Community Church. It was better. Atleast he was well liked there. Many times he asked God, "Why am I doing this? Am I a traitor to my community? Am I doing wrong?". The only answer he repeatedly got was , "If you hadn't done this, you'd be a traitor to the whole human race". This was enough for him. Even if he had no one to support ,he had one person who was worth ten million of the other people. That's all he needed. Although many a time he felt like a used shoe,thrown away by the whites for not being good enough, when a little black boy, or an old black woman came up to him and quietly said, "Thank you, sir!" he knew he was no shoe. He believed in himself.

Fred Cruger died at the age of 75. His life had been a painful one spent mainly with the Negroes. It was painful because he was never accepted again by the community he was born into. He was restricted by the thick iron bars of people's minds which forbid his entry into the gates of a proud white community. They were his jailors and they decided it was to be a life imprisonment. Imprisonment from a society that didn't care to listen to words other than their own. It's true, he was a prisoner. He stayed a prisoner for the rest of his existence. Only because he tried to change the people's views. That was his crime.

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