J.R. Green, 55, a white male railroad switchman in Little Rock, left the rail yard just after midnight on August 17, 1924, and started the familiar walk home. He never made it. A shot split the quiet and he fell in the dark, the night swallowing the sound and, for a time, the truth. In the days that followed, neighbors and railroad men traded theories while his family tended to the grim details of death and burial. The city moved on, but the killing lingered like steam over the tracks.
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