 Good afternoon everyone. My name is Thomas Simpson. I too would like to thank Shiz for all your encouragement and support and I also would like to pay homage to all the fellow artists who are part of this book. This is the first book that I've been privy to be a part of, my first anthology. This is the first time I've read, this is the first time I've read this piece in public so I invite you to go on this journey with me for part of it. San Francisco live up to your name by Thomas Robert Simpson. It was a very nice day in September on August the 10th 2013. That morning my theater company Afrosolo hosted a community health fair to help underserved youth and families in the western addition to prepare for the new school year. This San Francisco neighborhood has had a difficult past and for every year since 2006, More Magic, a collaboration of neighborhood-based non-profits organization Hosei Back to School Celebration at the Ella Hill Hodge Community Center and Oasis for Youth in the Area. To reward myself for weeks of hard work organizing the health fair, I plan to attend a concert that evening presented in conjunction with the America's Cup Yacht Race being held in San Francisco. It was about six o'clock. I began walking towards the Fisherman Wharf to attend the concert. I was in a good mood. I had a great day. I had a good nap and a shower. I was excited to attend the concert. Knowing that San Francisco would be chilly that evening I wore a fedora, turtleneck sweater, cashmere sweater, soft black leather jacket, dress pants and my Chelsea leather boots, all black in color. I was walking forward, I was looking forward to a real treat. The Soulful Rock Group War was headlining the concert with the comedy team Cheech and Chong as special guests. Walking down Market Street I began humming War's Big Hits. Cisco Kid was a friend of mine along with The World is a Ghetto. Then I went into Slipping into Darkness. I could hardly wait. As I neared the foot of Market Street I luxuried at the site of San Francisco's iconic Ferry building, the historic Hyatt Hotel and the impressive Embarcadero buildings. I turned left off-market onto Davis Street. Moving toward Washington I saw or glimpsed the site of two figures. Getting closer I saw the figures were a young white man and woman. They looked to be in their late teens, early 20s. It appeared that they had been traveling for a while. They had a couple of rolled up sleeping bags and a few plastic bags stuffed with other belongings. I didn't see a cup or a sign asking for money. Walking by them I tipped my hat, friendly hello. By then why can't we be friends? Was playing in my head. I kept walking. About a few hundred steps past them I thought I heard girl focused on the music and excited about the concert. I thought I was hearing things. Then I heard nigger, denial and hope can do strange things. I said to myself, no, you didn't hear that. This is San Francisco. Get to the concert. A few seconds later I heard nigger go back to where you came from. Wow, there was no escaping it now. I heard what I heard. I could not ignore or deny it. He was yelling at me. No one else was around. First came fear. Is it going to attack me, shoot me or what? Then I heard you ought to kill yourself. If you don't, I will. Then came anger. Who was he? Who was he shouting at me like this? He didn't know me. I didn't know him. His verbal attack made me feel furious. All of a sudden, L.A. Koojee song, Mama said, knock you out. Pound it on my head. I turned around and headed back to confront him. He was looking straight at me. We were about a hundred yards apart. My steps picked up speed. My heart started beating faster. My eyes glued to his. Knock you out. Mama said, knock you out grew louder and louder in my head. All of a sudden another voice invaded my mind. What are you doing? I responded, I'm gonna knock that sucker out. What are you doing came again going to fight? I responded responded. No, you're not. The voice said, look at him. Where will he be sleeping tonight? What will he be eating? You've got too much to lose. Get over it. Let it go. Turn around. The voices ordered I didn't turn around came again. Reluctantly, I turned around and headed toward the concert. I'm Thomas Simpson. Thank you.