joseph trammell, a black man, was born a slave in virginia in 1831. he was 21, he was freed, and surely believed he had some measure of liberty so long as he had his tin wallet with him. when he was stopped, he invariably had to affect a servile posture to the whites who demanded to know who, why and how come, and what for. the very sight of him-- no slave tag, no white supervision in sight-- was terrifying. an errant and aimlessly roaming negro, going about his ordinary days. his family undoubtedly reminded him, be non-threatening, say "yes, ma'am, no, sir," affect servility, cower, even. just don't get killed. i was having an ordinary day not long ago when, in my upscale and overwhelmingly white washington, d.c. neighborhood where i have lived for the past 25 years, my dog wilson and i walked past an apartment building just across the street from my own. as wilson paused, a blustery white man appeared and bellowed at me to not let my dog stop there. then he demanded to know if i lived in his neighborhood. i asked why it was a pertinent question. he