Melanie was — depending on who you talked to — sharing the love of Christ or trying to cause trouble. Forty-five years later I like to think it was both. Nixon was president, gas was 36 cents a gallon, and everything in my hometown was separate and unequal.
My father was the pastor of Calvary Baptist Church in West Point, Miss. The good people at Calvary encouraged me to fear anyone who did not look like us. We understood that there are Bible verses about God’s love for all people, but we ignored them. We sang “red and yellow, black and white” without realizing that was offensive. The sign out front said “Everyone is welcome.” We knew how to read the sign.
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