Three men eat dinner and a crowded restaurant in an unfamiliar city.

When they're done eating, two of them take turns using the pay phone to make long-distance phone calls to their families.

One walks outside to smoke a cigar.

Years later, he'd recall how quiet it was, the sound of the street lamps coming on.

And when the phone calls are made, they all stand in front of the restaurant,

and the approaching darkness.

They don't know this place.

They don't know the street.

They've got a meeting to get back to.

What's the best way back to where they've come from?

Should they turn left or right?

This is 1965.

These men are strangers here,

northern men and a segregated southern city,

white men standing in front of a black restaurant.

Three men and a decision to make.

There would have been no way for them to know that what will happen next will change everything,

that it will lead to the murder of one of these three men,

and radically alter the lives of the other two.

That this moment will ripple down through the generations in ways seen,

and unseen, affecting the children and the grandchildren of all the men who converge on the street that night.

And it ripples far past those families in this town.

...