Hands and fists were flung wildly in the air. Jesus was being lifted high. I had my eyes clothed. Then, I felt someone tapping me on my shoulder. Startled, I jumped as if I had just had an encounter with the risen God. I hadn’t. It was time to go.
Winter is dark in the South. Ghosts ride on every chill. I felt them all. The road was dark. In the high beams, I searched for the light. In every moment, I was scared. I just didn’t know what I was going to find.
Basketball always spoke to my soul. I was terrible. However, basketball had a way of making me feel stronger each time I played it. When we arrived, I went straight in to join my team. The coach never looked real kindly at tardiness. Not long after I ran a few drills, a black police officer walked in with two angry men. “There!” The officer rushed to arrest one of my teammates, a large black guy named Micah. After he found the CD in Micah’s bag, the officer declared, “I’m going to handle this out back!”
Micah had no rights that night.
When human rights are denied, justice is too.
I never know where to start.
For the sake of brevity, I’ll start with the shots. Immediately, I turned to get people out of there. For some time, I didn’t know the full extent of what was going on. Then, I saw it on the screen, “Shooter Kills 5 Dallas Officers.”
Micah Johnson wanted to cause as much terror as he could. His actions were those of a monster. With five officers dead and scores of others wounded, everyone thought that there would be more blood running down the street that night. It was a desperate situation. Ultimately, Chief David Brown and his officers cornered Micah. Negotiations proved unfruitful. Brown decided to take matters into his own hands. Using explosives strapped to a police robot, Brown gave the order to blow him up.
Micah had no rights that night.
When human rights are denied, justice is too.
It’s been many years since that night.
I remain haunted.
Injustice is not the precursor of justice…
and it never will be.
Amen.
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