In 1968, I was 13 years old and living where I grew up in the Lower 9th Ward of New Orleans. One summer day my mom sent me to Puglia's Supermarket to buy a $100 money order for her. On my way to that store, seven men, all about 18 years old or so, jumped me because my skin color was different than theirs. They were prepared to do this to someone as they were all armed with short pieces of sawed-off broom sticks. Earlier that year, someone had murdered Martin Luther King for h
"Hatred stirs up strife,” (Proverbs 10:12a) WOW! Could there be a better verse for a week like this last one in the USA? All across the USA unscrupulous professional “race baiters” (those who keep promoting the racist idea that the thing that is most important about a person is the skin color God lovingly gave him in the womb) trained, equipped, and led others to “protest” the murder of a man. The hope of the leaders was that these protest marches would degenerate into riots.