While living in Botswana, I talked with a friend who wore a medallion identifying him as a member of the Zion Christian Church. Attached to it was a fringe of blue cloth. I asked what that meant.
While living in Botswana, I talked with a friend who wore a medallion identifying him as a member of the Zion Christian Church. Attached to it was a fringe of blue cloth. I asked what that meant.
On a Sunday afternoon, after a sedate morning worship gathering, I took a hand-lettered sign and boarded the train to join whatever marchers might be gathering in downtown Atlanta after the latest spate of gun violence and national hurt. I found a crowd assembling in Woodruff Park at the foot of the avenue that leads to Martin Luther King’s birth home and the renowned Ebenezer Baptist Church.
