Were you thinking about the kids?
Was this payback?
No payback.
Weren't you trying to get revenge
to take revenge for that?
No.
No revenge
- Were you depressed?
- No. No depression.
- Angry?
- No more anger.
But you drove your truck
into their car.
I didn't kill them.
I didn't kill them.
They killed themselves.
- What do you think?
- I checked with the police and
there are no skid marks at
the site of the accident,
no sign of a collision.
I think Lester Farley is delusional.
Completely delusional.
My name is
Herbert Keble.
And I am among those who failed
to rise to Coleman's defense
when he was accused of racism.
Coleman, I can't be
with you on this.
That is what I said
to my everlasting shame.
I should have spoken up
to say then what I want to say now
in the presence of
his former colleagues
that the alleged misconduct
never took place.
Coleman Silk and his wife, Iris,
were betrayed by
the moral stupidity
of a censorious
and coercive community.
And I was a part
of that community.
We all were.
Mrs. Keble.
My name is Nathan Zuckerman.
I was a friend of Coleman's.
- I thought your husband's speech was
- I'm not Mrs. Keble.
Are you?
I'm Coleman Silk's sister.
Iris. Nice name.
And when is the happy day?
June 14th.
Have you told her?
When will you?
You plan on bringing her
home for dinner?
I told her
my parents are dead.
Dead?
You have no brother?
You have no sister?
There's no Ernestine?
There's no Walter?
I don't want to be Coleman Silk,
the Negro Classics professor.
And that's how it would
always come out, Mom.
You know it, and I know it.
Funny, I never thought of you
as black or white.
Gold.
You were my golden child.
Look, Mom...
I haven't figured
the whole thing out yet.
Will you have children?
Yes, I suppose so.
You aren't going to
let them see me, are you?
My grandchildren.
Mom, you'll tell me
sit in the waiting room
in Penn Station at 11:15 a.m.
I'll walk by with my kids
in their Sunday best.
That'll be my birthday present
five years from now.
And you know I'll be there.
But aren't you taking
a risk having children?
The suspense will be unbearable.
Suppose they don't pop out
of her womb as white as you?
Won't you have some
explaining to do?
Will you accuse her
of adultery with a Negro?
I have to go now, Mom.
Coleman
you think
like a prisoner.
You're white as snow
and you think like a slave.
Murderer.
- Is that the doorbell?
- I'll get it.
Don't you ever
come near Mom again.
You don't call, you don't write,
you don't nothing.
I never want to see
your lily-white face again.
And your mother obeyed Walter.
All the Silk men, from my father on down,
are very decisive.
Yes, she did it.
But I didn't.
I was trying to reach him two days ago.
It was his birthday.
The day after he was killed.
I don't blame Walter.
He was only trying to protect Mother.
And was he successful?
Just before she died,
she was delirious.
She kept saying, "Oh, nurse,
get me to the train.
I've got a sick baby at home."
Did you know why your brother
resigned from the college?
I gather he was accused of racism.
That beats it all,
doesn't it?
For using the word "spooks."
Sounds like from what I heard today,
almost anything goes nowadays.
People are just getting dumber
but more opinionated.
You know what's sad,
Mr. Zuckerman?
Nowadays,
it's hard to imagine
that anyone would do
what Coleman felt he had to do.
Constructing his whole life
around a lie.
Coleman could have stopped that
racism charge in its tracks,
if he'd only told the truth.
But that's the one thing
he couldn't do.
Do you think
he ever told anyone?
Maybe.
Maybe someone.
So finally,
I guess my mother was right.
I wanted to be free,
but I became a prisoner instead.
And you never
told anyone?
Not even my wife. She...
I have not said a word about it
to anyone until tonight.
I haven't told anyone until...
you.
Why me?
Why did you tell me