New Year’s Day, we awoke to the sound of sirens.
WHERE WE COME FROM But before we get to where we are going, let us back up to look at where we come from. What happened in 2018? We went around the table on New Year’s Eve and asked what everyone had achieved in the 12 months just passed. “We put a roof on one barn and a foundation under another,” we volunteered. We had just spent the holidays working on the family farm, shoring up an old barn with concrete and cinder blocks; the dirt was still under our fingernails and the work still fresh in our mind.
After a week at the family farm, we had come back to the city for New Year’s Eve. But hardly had the new year begun when the echoes of the old year filled the streets and alleyways. Over the holidays, a mental defective had firebombed nine cars near our house in Baltimore. And this morning, the bums are still sleeping at the church entrance next door. One of them has turned the whole area into a dump, with trash and rags strewn all over the steps. “Yes, it looks like 2019 is going to be a lot like 2018,” said one of the children.
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