“I could tell you some stories,” says Joel James one Tuesday afternoon at the Smith Center.
And for the next hour, he does. He tells you about stretching out his 6-foot-11 frame on a couch instead of a bed, and dodging bullets on the way home from school, and the day he passed a murder scene on the way to the bus stop.
But he does not tell all of the stories. He says he can’t.
Why not?
“I don’t feel like I should tell some of that stuff,” he says. “People would think I’m crazy.