When Emmett Till's mother Mamie decided on an open casket for her son's funeral in Chicago, once his body was fished out of the Tallahatchie River after being beaten, mutilated and shot, it attracted mourners in the tens of thousands in August 1955.
Images of the body were circulated throughout newspapers and magazines of black interest.
The story was a familiar one, but the visibility of the brutality exposed the Jim Crow-era Southern states.
The 14-year-old had been visiting family in Mississippi and had an interaction with the married white grocery store proprietor, Carolyn Bryant. Her testimony of the account had been altered afterwards, but her husband Roy and his half-brother abducted the boy from his grand-uncle's house before murdering him.
Both men were acquitted and years later, with the benefit of double-jeopardy, admitted in a 1956 interview with 'Look' magazine that they killed the boy.
A few months before, the Montgomery bus boycott began in Alabama.
Now, 65 years on, little has changed for African Americans. Disgusting abuses of power remain. Racism is endemic, fronted up by the highest offices of political power. For every Hattie Carroll being murdered, a William Zantzinger wriggles off the charge.
When the protests in America began about the killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor, there was no way Aaron Cunningham, formerly of Crossmaglen and Armagh footballers, could have sat on his couch and watched.
"If you look back, maybe over the history of anything that has happened in the history of the States, people have got themselves onto the streets to force change. It is concerning, but whenever you see what is happening in every major city in the country, right across the world as well, it is a very powerful thing too," says Cunningham.
"This has been happening for such a long time and nothing has ever really been done about it. It has got to the point where people have had enough and they are taking to the streets."
Cunningham makes a point that escapes many. While the world was on coronavirus lockdown, the footage of police officer Derek Chauvin with his knee on the neck of George Floyd as he begged for his life on a Minneapolis road while three colleagues looked on impassively became a global event.
"Everybody was at home when that video came out of George Floyd, so everybody seen it. People were not so much caught up in their daily lives, they seen it, and seen it for what it was," he states.
Generational racism is a legacy of the Cunningham family. Aaron's father Joey has shared his own account of playing in the Irish League as a flying winger for Portadown when he was pelted with bananas by opposition supporters. Assaults were commonplace.
In 2012, society was meant to be more enlightened, but Cunningham had those words - those words - spat at him during the Ulster club final against Kilcoo. The offender had a six month ban, rounded down to four months. He missed no football at all. A supporter was banned from the GAA for life.
And in truth, it sort of finished Aaron as a player at home.
Sure, he played on for Cross and was around the fringes of the Armagh panel periodically, but the heart went out of it for him.
"I will be honest. I was somewhat disillusioned with Gaelic football. This plays into it a wee bit with the racist abuse I got. I sort of felt that I didn't really get the support I should have got by the GAA regarding that matter," he explains.
"You were sort of on the cusp of winning with Cross as well and then when we were beaten (by St Brigid's) in 2013, it was sort of then I took a little step back from things.
"I still played on for a while, but I was putting together my plans to travel and see somewhere new. I went over here and got a little bit of love back for Gaelic football. Just to play with different people and to enjoy the game again."
He fell in with the Longford club in New York. He played in the Connacht Championship with the 'county'. He got into bar tending and delights in how social it is, meeting and exchanging quips and knowledge and one-liners from people all over the world.
His accent is as south Armagh, distinctly Cross, but he has found a happiness in becoming a citizen of the world and wants to stay in New York.
And still, there's the bitter little reminders of that December evening in 2012.
"It was sort of, I wouldn't say frustrating, but it stays with you. It's not that I lose sleep at night but it is very hard to get the full story across when people don't know the full ins and outs of it," he adds.
"Whenever we won the Ulster final and you had people from the Kilcoo club phoning my dad to apologise and speak to me to try to apologise. They were apologising for something they knew happened.
"Little things like that, they don't come to light and then you see the subsequent bans that the GAA gave, how they were appealed and knocked down. It makes you question things, that the GAA missed a step there."
The coronavirus pandemic has meant his place of work, 'The Ashford' in Jersey, has been shut for 12 weeks. This week he went upstate to get a bit of casual gardening work and gather up a few dollars. He will be back on the streets protesting this week.
"While this is going on, I couldn't imagine me sitting at home watching it," he says.
"I am putting myself in the position and it is doing the right thing. I am putting myself on the right side of history and it is a matter of everybody getting out and following through. People listening to what is happening. Not just in this country, but right across the world."