The 21st night, September...

This is the second email I sent to friends over the weekend after the march.
Do you remember the 21st night September?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders,
while chasing the clouds away...

How many times have I danced in the kitchen with Claire to this song? It's become something of a theme song for us. It was, however especially poignant to think of the words Friday night.

Thursday, September 20 came and went. The buses rolled out of town, leaving a confused town in their wake. Friday night we sat in the football stands and watched our kids play ball. Black and white. The night after the march. The 21st night of September.

Love was changing the minds of pretenders...

Could it be possible that love could change the minds of the pretenders (Sharpton, Jackson)? Could love chase the clouds of hatred away?

I think of Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson and I weep for them. They seem to thrive on finding evil. Instead standing for the good things and making heroes of honorable young black men and women, they came here and vilified our town and bestowed heroism upon young men who do not deserve such accolades. Jackson, Sharpton and their ilk pretend to care for their fellow African Americans, I don't see that their actions follow their words.

The pretenders in the media came here expecting (possibly hoping for) a riot. What they got instead was a peaceful rally. The town of Jena opened it's streets for the marchers and were gracious hosts. The marchers came and protested and were gracious guests. The media pretends to want the truth, yet they report half-truths and twisted facts in hopes of what?

While chasing the clouds away...

The clouds of fear, the clouds of hate. Love for each other, love for our neighbor, love for the guy two blocks over. That's what will make the clouds go away.

On Thursday, we as a town took a step in the right direction. The media, the marchers and the world expected us to line the streets spewing evil at the marchers. They were wrong. We did just the opposite. I know people who opened their homes to marchers, I know people who opened their hearts to the marchers.

Love was changing the minds...

So, on the 21st night of September I sat in the bleachers at Ferriday and made a vow to myself. I will not let the pretenders change me. I will not let the pretenders change who I am. I will however, continue to try to let love rule my actions and my life.