It was about time for the music and Mama asked me to pass Layla to her, and just as I did Mama began her announcement. “Now all y’all know that this is a special night ‘cause it’s our Layla’s third birthday party, and, Lordy, how time passes so fast…”

Suddenly there were loud angry voices in the back of the hall and there was the sound of a struggle. Then I heard a loud voice say, “Get your hands off me, nigger!”

Just then a woman screamed and I heard her say, “He’s got a gun!”

Mama was still holding Layla as a giant, very drunk and belligerent young white man made his way into the hall. He was holding a pistol and as the crowd moved back from him, to my horror, he made a beeline for Mama and Layla.

It happened so fast that in seconds he was standing not three feet in front of Mama with a pistol leveled at her chest.

She was still holding Layla.

Everyone froze as I began to circle behind him. I had picked up a folding chair that if I had the chance I was going to bring down on top of his head.