The tally of shootings and homicides this summer fails to convey the human loss and incalculable harm to the psyche and soul of a people.
FOUNTAIN: When boys slap-boxed. Made slingshots. Licked icy cups. And girls jumped rope. Hopscotched. Kissed lollipops. And nobody got shot.
FOUNTAIN: Was it the loss of hope, faith and purpose that contributed to a sense of disillusionment?
As sure as my American flag flutters in the summer wind, I am cognizant of this truth. Always painfully aware of the skin I’m in.
FOUNTAIN: Among my heritage mothers: Ida B. Wells whose scholarship and advocacy — by speech and by pen — helped lift America’s cruel lynching hand.
JOHN FOUNTAIN: I could never abandon my children. It cuts against every fiber and fabric of fatherhood.
As summer dawns, let us not accept that with it must come the seasonal voluminous murder toll. Lord, save my city’s soul.
FOUNTAIN: Back in the day when only old folks died, we lived by truth instead of being consumed by lies. And yet, I still believe that we can rise.
Although at 86, Coach is a schoolboy compared to some.
Let the world know we are not “America’s Millstone.”