It’s not every day that you meet someone who lights up a room with their charismatic personality and zest for life while making you feel like you’re the most important individual inside those four walls.
Having recently commemorated the 53rd anniversary of Dr. King’s death, I think we can all agree that we are at a “powerful moment” in our history , as the events surrounding the death of George Floyd compel us to face, and to tell, the truth, concerning our nation’s history of slavery, Jim Crow, lynching and systemic racism. To be sure, these last several months have been a period of great reflection.
Sitting in my sixth grade home room with the laughter of fellow classmates echoing in my ears, I felt an air of melancholy sweep over me like a tidal wave while contemplating my last day of instruction at Bentworth Middle School.
They were between a rock and a hard place. Being a Jewish religious and political leader in Jerusalem in the early first century was a tough job. The rock was the Roman government, and the hard place was the constant tension caused by the common Jewish citizens.
When I was growing up an ice cream cone was a nickel a scoop. Now, a single scoop cone at my local Baskin Robbins is three dollars. That’s sixty nickels. So far as I am aware, there is no shortage of cows or sugar.
Since I am a self-appointed family genealogist tracing my lineage back through and annals of history, I was pleasantly surprised upon making the discovery of having followed in the footsteps of a distant relative without even realizing it.