We have witnessed many, particularly in recent days in the mine field of social media, who react first and think later (maybe). Warrick Dunn isn’t one of those. He doesn’t require a filter between his brain and his fingertips before sharing a thought on Twitter or a pause button before speaking publicly. He thinks. He measures his words. He proves it’s possible to lead with one’s heart without leading with one’s emotions.

Dunn has been on both sides of the looking glass. He was raised in a rough neighborhood but he attended a predominantly white Catholic high school in Baton Rouge. He witnessed violence and crime on an almost daily basis. Friends died. But as the son of a police officer, he also grew up with an appreciation for the law and the people who tried to give our world order.

Don’t preach to Warrick Dunn about pain, about what’s unfair or unjust. His mother, a police officer, was shot and killed during a robbery 20 years ago when she drove a grocery store manager to the bank to make a night deposit. Don’t preach to Dunn about everything being the result of racial injustice. When his mother was taken from him, it had nothing to do with race.

“Not everything is about black and white, it’s about right and wrong,” he said. “I’m black. A black man killed my mother.”

Dunn was sitting in his office Monday. The former NFL running back is now an accomplished businessman and philanthropist. He earned his MBA from Emory. He holds minority ownership in the Falcons and oversees his three charities — Home for the Holidays (which rewards single-parent families with first-time home ownership), the all-encompassing Warrick Dunn Charities and Betty’s Hope (a children’s bereavement program named for his late mother, Betty Smothers).

Like others, Dunn also has leaped into the world of social media and was criticized by some in the past few days for a couple of simple comments he made on Twitter related to the Florida murder trial that saw George Zimmerman found not guilty in the killing of Trayvon Martin.

The first Tweet: “Speechless.” The second: “My heart goes out to the Martin family.” It doesn’t take much to start a fire.

It’s rare for Dunn to take a strong public stance on a subject so combustible. This is one.

“I don’t agree with it,” he said of the Zimmerman verdict. “I think he should’ve been found guilty. I think everybody would’ve been [content] with manslaughter — it didn’t have to be second degree murder. But not guilty is not the right call.”

He referenced two high profile cases involving NFL players: Michael Vick “went to jail for killing dogs,” Dunn said. “Plaxico Burress went to prison for shooting himself in the leg. Seriously?”

When the verdict was broadcast live late Saturday night, Dunn was at his home in Tampa, a two-hour drive from the courthouse in Sanford. He had several friends over — friends of difference races.

“A diverse group,” he said. “There were a lot of smart people in the room. When the verdict was read, we were just all shocked. We were in awe. Nobody knew what to say.”

It was about a year ago, Dunn recalled, when he received a message on Twitter that read, “Somebody killed my friend.”

“He was talking about Trayvon,” Dunn said.

Dunn started following the case. He fully admits to not knowing every detail about the investigation. But he believes he devoured enough of the news reports to come up with an educated opinion. He also has strong feelings against Florida’s “stand your ground” law, although that was not procedurally a part of the trial.

“Everybody wants to understand the facts. The people who are protesting or speaking out on Twitter just wanted justice to be served,” he said. “This isn’t about race…People are saying, ‘Sure, what if a black man killed a white man?’ But Zimmerman isn’t even white — he’s Hispanic.

“People have the right to carry a firearm. But if somebody is walking away and a man follows him [and shoots him], how is that not second-degree murder or manslaughter.

“If you’re instructed to walk away and you do it anyway, then what? To me, if you disregard all authority and you do it anyway, everything else goes out the window. If there’s a fight going on and you’re defending yourself, that’s one thing. But when he didn’t listen to the 911 operator and gets out of the car, that’s a problem.

“They’ve opened up a whole new can of worms. They’ve set a precedent with this law for somebody killing somebody and getting away with it.”

Dunn had just turned 18 when his mother was killed. (The man who killed her is in a Louisiana penitentiary.) She was 36. Tuesday would’ve been Betty Smothers’ 57th birthday. Her profession gave Dunn a unique perspective.

“I understand the grind that people in law enforcement go through,” he said. “They want to protect and serve, and they want to be able to go home to their families and say, ‘I’m OK.’ When I see a police officer the first thing I always say is, ‘Be careful.’ I know the sadness I had for so many years. I can feel for the parents who’ve lost somebody. I understand their struggle. I’ve gone to counseling for years.

“People are just scared. You have all these athletes like Roddy [White] who are Tweeting, reacting emotionally. But when they step back, they just want what’s best.”

White Tweeted, “All them jurors should go home tonight and kill themselves for letting a grown man get away with killing a kid.” He apologized the next day, acknowledging his Tweet “was extreme.”

Dunn isn’t sure how his mother would’ve reacted to the verdict, but said, “She would’ve made sure she understood all of the facts.”

At some point, he said he might reach out to Trayvon Martin’s family.

“Maybe after things settle down, after all of the protests and everything,” he said. “I know they’re going through a lot emotionally. They wanted justice. Their family will never have peace. Maybe I can help them.”