February 24, 2017
“By the Mississippi’s waters stands our high school fair. Louisiana’s sons and daughters long shall gather there...” - These are the opening lines of the Hahnville High School Alma Mater.
I can still remember them because I had to learn them for Ms. Frickey’s choir. I learned to play the tune for David Rosenthaul’s band. And sitting next to me and singing or playing them were people whose paint jobs didn’t all match mine. People I ate lunch with, attended class with, was in G&T drama with, attended church with. And yes, since the statute of limitations clock should have run out by now, and grounding is less likely to be an issue… young men and women who I skipped classes with a time or two and went to the lake and shared a few less than legal beverages with. All while listening to that old heathen rock and rap that we were so fond of “back in the day”. It’s simply by God’s Grace we didn’t end up dead or in jail isn’t it?
(Sorry Mom and Dad. I know you thought I was perfect. And to my kids, this doesn’t mean that it’s okay for you to try that. I’ll ground you for life just so we’re clear.)
Last night I saw a request for prayers for the people of the community I lived in while I was in junior and high school. Naturally I was curious as to why. What I found out was that because of a spark created at a presentation for Black History month, the Deceiver managed to use a favorite tool of his to start hammering wedges into that same community. Race. So I started praying. Fervently. Sincerely. And I ended up sitting and typing like I sometimes do after talking with God. And here’s what I wanted to share...