I might be wrong on the year ... it could be 1972, because accounts vary a little ... folks died at different rates, sadly ... still a mere 52 years ago. I am going off the memory of when the real Herman Shaw, one of the last survivors, received a medal from President Clinton for surviving. Mr. Shaw was one of two suitors to be my great uncle, not even knowing what would have happened to any family he and my aunt had ... so that's how I learned about the Tuskegee Experiment. But, as it happened, God protected Mr. Shaw. He was about 93 when he received his award. His body successfully defeated the disease, and he looked hearty and hale. I could see why my great-aunt used to run through the house and put on extra perfume, 70 years earlier -- he was still handsome. So, one ending as happy as it can be, out of such a tragedy ... and here I have modeled what could be an honest, healing conversation about these hard issues.
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I mean no disrespect to Mr Shaw and what he went through, and I am sure he is proud of his medal from President Clinton, but giving a medal for surviving something you did to me does not sit well with me. I hope they did more than the medal. In my eyes it is like here: Drink this poison. If you survive, I will give you a medal.