Sons of Liberty: An Interactive Activity

You slip away in the darkness. You cannot smash another home. The poor devil who owns it has done nothing to you personally, and your parents did not raise a vandal.

In the morning, Shea taunts you. "Don't have the stomach for what needs to be done, do you?"

"I refuse to believe," you counter, "that smashing a man's home will bring good to our cause."

"Our cause?" Shea asks. "You were afraid last night, scared to stand with the Sons of Liberty!"

"Lies!" you yell. "Foul lies!"

"Come with us tonight, then," Shea implores. "We'll teach another tax hound the same lesson."

"No," you mutter.

Soon your partnership dissolves. You move to Boston to make a fresh start. You just want peace and quiet, and an opportunity to live your life without judgment.

For a few years, it looks like there may be peace. The British relax the taxes, and you think they may have finally seen the light.

In March of 1770, you're walking near the customs house on King Street in Boston when you see a lone sentry crack a boy in the head with the butt of his rifle.

You turn to see a crowd of young people. They are throwing snowballs and yelling insults at the British guard. Other British soldiers come on the run. In the crowd is a tall, articulate African-American standing about six-foot-two. You see carpenters and sailors, washerwomen and tailors. The British soldiers fire, and the square is engulfed in thick smoke. The black man falls. "Crispus Attucks lays dead!" someone shouts. Four other protests fall to the ground, mortally wounded. Samuel Adams and the Sons of Liberty calls this the Boston Massacre. Everybody is angry; war will surely break out, and you must fight for American independence. You hoped for peace, but war has come to your town. You quickly join the local regiment of the Massachusetts.

	PAUL REVERE'S ENGRAVING OF THE BOSTON MASSACRE 1770