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you know who I am? This is my house! Get off my land! You have no right!”
He pointed a finger at the nearest agent.
“I am a deacon!” he shouted. “I demand you leave immediately!”
The agent didn’t argue.
Didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t care about church or city council or ego.
He swept my father’s legs.
Drove him into the manicured grass.
Otis hit the ground hard.
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