Prologue: Strong Beginnings

A Tale of Two Lynchings

William Spivey
18 min readDec 1, 2023

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My novel Strong Beginnings is fictional but based on the very real Moore’s Ford Bridge Lynchings in rural Georgia and another lynching a few years later of a friend’s grandfather. Strong Beginnings is a family saga showing the impact of those events over fifty years and what happens when the chickens come home to roost. Here’s the prologue and how to obtain the book, should you be interested. Available on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited, and in paperback and hardcover editions.

Prologue

Covington, GA — 1966

The thing about murder is that covering them up often leads to more killings. In this case, weeks later and fifty years into the future. It started as an ordinary Sunday for Dorothy, Roger, Mae, and George. But it would be their last, and the dominoes would begin to fall.

“I’ll be ready just as soon as I get this roast in the oven,” said Dorothy. “I’m cooking it real slow; the way Roger likes it. By the time we get back, it should only need another hour or so to finish.” Her best friend Mae was admiring the new Kenmore stove. Dorothy said, “It’s the same stove as on the Donna Reed Show; Roger got it from Sears and Roebuck in Atlanta. I’m making a special dinner because I have a surprise for Roger this evening.”

Mae said, “And you’re going to make your best friend wait. You never been able to hold water, and now you’re going to have secrets from me?”

Dorothy said, “You know I would’ve told you. I’m gonna have a baby!”

Mae screamed excitedly, catching herself before realizing nobody else was there, and screamed again. She waddled over, seven months pregnant herself, and gave Dorothy a big hug. “Our children will be able to play together. They won’t have to worry about having friends nearby out here on this farm,” Dorothy said, “With you next door, I’ll feel more comfortable about everything. We’ll look out for each other! Now be quiet because here come the men.”

Dorothy’s husband, Roger, and Mae’s husband, George, entered the kitchen. Roger took note of the roast in the oven. “Mmmm, lookin’ like my favorite pork roast in there?”

“Boston Butt,” Dorothy replied. “While we’re out on our Sunday drive, maybe we can stop…

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