The most memorable part of the trip so far was the police and justice museum. The first part of the tour involved a slide show of convicts. Then we were marched to the courtroom and given a position in life. I was a juror, not what I expected, judge would have been more suitable. However, I digress.
There were several convicts confined to "the dock." The dock was a holding cell for convicts during court. We learned that the dock is no longer around because it automatically made convicts look guilty.
The dock took me to the past for a moment. I pictured myself sitting in a courtroom looking at the convicts and imagined the police trying to haul a convict away. I imagined it being a terrible thing to witness.
I imagined a convict holding on to the cell bars, while his hands were beat. I imagined screams from the convicts and their families. I imagined the odor of the convicts and the room they had to share with 13 others. I could only imagine these things. One thing that I do not have to imagine is being an American. This museum visit made me remember how lucky I am.