There are no witnesses, save the defendant, to the events in question on the Florida evening when George Zimmerman admittedly shot Trayvon Martin through the heart and killed him.
No one knows, or will ever know, what happened. (Psychologists would say it is unlikely that even Mr. Zimmerman knows, despite—or especially due—his intimate involvement: the brain plays tricks when the stakes are high.) Yet information—about the men involved, the bullet, the candy, the wounds, maybe even the stage of the moon—will be supplied. And people, including the jurors, will somehow convince themselves that one story or another is true, that events transpired in this way or that, despite possessing absolute ignorance—despite having witnessed nothing, having been nowhere near the scene.
