Once upon a Monday morning in March 2007 a sixteen-year-old high-school junior went wild, began chanting, and threatened his six-year-old brother with a knife. Their mother witnessed the ruckus and dialed 911. In due time sheriff's deputies arrived and tried to disarm the teenager. Unable to do so with pepper spray, without tasers, they sustained minor injuries and begged the beserk boy to back off -- before drawing their guns.

You know the rest. The story happens every day. The fact that it happened in scenic Sonoma County, California seems incongruous. Sebastopol, a well-to-do community north of San Francisco, is better known for its vineyards than for its violence. The day Jeremiah Chass died stands out like the bitterest grape in wine country.

Voice of Youth staff members from KRCB do a probing investigation the day after Chass's death. They drive to the scene and interview several of Chass's Analy High School classmates, who describe him as a nice guy, helpful. One young man recalls how he and Chass talked about going to college. No one has any idea about why Chass flipped his lid.

Almost exactly midway into this superb drop-in, a young KRCB reporter wonders aloud whether Chass's being African-American had anything to do with his being shot. None of the interviewees sees any kind of racist link. But we are left with a question mark while the reporters scout out the neighborhood where Chass spent his brief life.

Flowers, candles, poems and paintings constitute a makeshift shrine memorializing the dead young man -- as Cub Scouts troop by and blend into the serene landscape near Chass's house. In the background, along with wailing police car sirens, the haunting strains of Moby's "One of Those Mornings" comprise an elegy for an enigmatic J.C. character you will want to hear about for yourself.