I’ve never heard this story of friendship and brotherly love before, truly groundbreaking and a poignant reminder for our ignorant leaders in charge.
I had another post on the schedule for this morning, but when I came upon this on The Jon S. Randall Peace Page, I re-scheduled the other one and chose this for this morning’s post. I think when you read it, you’ll see why.
He remembered growing up when his father pointed out a tree to him, and told him that a black man was lynched from a branch of that tree. At that time, he could not understand how another human being could hate another human being, to the point of killing him.
Harold Henry was born on July 23, 1918 in Ekron, Kentucky. When he was 8-years-old, his family moved to racially segregated Louisville. He was 10-years-old when his father took him to see that tree in which the black man was lynched.
Harold never got to know any black folks growing up. He said, “the schools…
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