When I moved to Jackson to attend Union University, I had no connections to the community. I didn’t know anyone who lived here and planned to escape Jackson as soon as I got my degree. A few weeks into my freshman year, one of my professors gave his class two options: we could write a ten-page research paper, or we could volunteer for a couple hours a week throughout the semester at an after-school program called the HUB Club.
Read MoreWhen I was five or six years old, I attended a Vacation Bible School at a Baptist church somewhere on the south side of Jackson. I can’t remember the name of the church now, only that on the last afternoon every boy and girl, ages five to nine, were packed into a multi-purpose room (what Baptists might call a “fellowship hall”), and a man or woman told us that we needed to be saved. I don’t ever remember any name of the devil being used . . . no Satan, Lucifer, or Beelzebub.
Read More
