Let me never declare that I have walked a mile in any other\u2019s shoes. I can seek to understand the circumstances of another. I can be earnest. Zealous. Totally sincere. I can work tirelessly to better comprehend another\u2019s plight or perspective. But I don\u2019t know that it\u2019s fair or accurate to ever suggest that I could somehow wear their shoes\u2026 feeling what they felt\u2026 the blisters, callouses, so much more. Something seems glaringly incomplete.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We were profoundly aware of that inability last weekend. The day was dreary \u2014 which indeed seemed fitting. There was a bit of a light rain. It never seemed to go away. I suppose one could say the storm came long ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
61 years ago today, in fact.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n It was nearing half past ten in the morning. Many were adorned in their Sunday best. Four of whom were young girls who were reportedly straightening their dresses and bows in the basement restroom\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n Addie Mae Collins\u2026 Cynthia Wesley\u2026 Carole Robertson\u2026 and Denise McNair.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n The first three were fourteen years old. The latter, eleven.<\/p>\n\n\n\n When the bomb then exploded, the incident and resulting intensity hoisted a glaring spotlight upon a clear evil in this world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n At the time, Birmingham was one of our nation\u2019s most segregated cities. It was 1963 and a highly, racially charged, discriminatory atmosphere. In May of that year, the city agreed to desegregate lunch counters, restrooms, drinking fountains, and fitting rooms, and to hire African Americans in stores as salesmen and clerks. The move was vehemently opposed by white segregationists. Rampant violence continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The downtown, 16th Street Baptist Church, no less, was a place where many civil rights leaders often gathered \u2014 among them Martin Luther King, Fred Shuttlesworth and more. They would organize and strategize. They would worship, too. It was the start of many protests \u2014 nonviolent, as they were. One could say the brown brick building became the fragile place were racial tension and white hostility sadly met.<\/p>\n\n\n\n On Sunday, September 15th, 1963, a bomb was detonated under the steps of the church, spraying mortar, caving in interior walls prior to the start of their weekly service. Many were injured, but most were able to evacuate \u2014 not those, however, in the basement restroom. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Sadly still, it has been long characterized as an incident where no one wondered if this was any accident. It was immediately presumed to be intentional. And therefore, as we soberly conclude, evil. People killed people because of the color of their skin. People killed people because of hate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As we walked the hallowed grounds last weekend we were overcome with a profound sobriety. We strolled slowly, mostly in silence. Tears, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I watched my youngest son get a glimpse of what actually happened, an incident that occurred long before he was even born. As noted, Josh has Down syndrome, and while he typically scores lower on a stereotypical IQ test, he is full of great wisdom. (Fact: intelligence and wisdom are not the same.) <\/em>Watching him process reality, therefore, is beautifully, insightfully fascinating\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n Why would someone do that? How could they hate another so much? They didn\u2019t even know them.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Only two months after the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing, our national grief would be unfathomably compounded, as the sitting U.S. President was assassinated. I can\u2019t imagine what that felt like. Those two awful acts would eventually then prompt the passage of the 1964 Civil Rights Act, which required equal access to public places and employment and the right to vote; race, color, religion, sex, or national origin were to matter no more. Granted, legislation alone cannot eradicate the evil in people\u2019s hearts. <\/p>\n\n\n\n While the Act then did not end discrimination, it was a step of tremendous progress. It was a step toward learning how to treat all people well. The stark reality is we oft need a reminder \u2014 especially since intelligence and wisdom and age, too, are not the same thing. We need to learn how to love and honor our neighbor well, whoever our neighbor is. We need to learn to be earnest in understanding the circumstances of another, especially when they are not our own. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I continue to wonder, keenly aware of the hatred that exists still today. Some of it\u2019s based on race. Some of it\u2019s based on religion, sex, politics, too. I wonder if we\u2019re not careful\u2026 when will this go too far? <\/p>\n\n\n\n Respectfully\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n AR<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Let me never declare that I have walked a mile in any other\u2019s shoes. I can seek to understand the circumstances of another. I can be earnest. Zealous. Totally sincere. I can work tirelessly to better comprehend another\u2019s plight or perspective. But I don\u2019t know that it\u2019s fair or accurate to ever suggest that I … <\/p>\n