Last week at church there was a reference to white folks needing to speak up and be counted in reference to some recent stuff. I recently got back some Ancestry.com results about where I'm genetically from and such, but there's actually some history in my family that may be more interesting. Ms. Lottie Harris helped raise my Father, an Uncle, and an Aunt. She was African-American, and when she was born, about everyone in her community over 45 years of age or so would have been someone who would have been born an enslaved person. Many of us over so many centuries have so horribly erred, especially non-POC folks in the some areas where I'm in part from in the South. By my parentage, I am German and I am Southern - for all our challenges, I would like to think we have some experience in addressing issues of forgiveness, because there have been times when we've needed it…. For so much of my life, I knew dropping by Ms. Lottie’s home to say hello when passing by Greenville as any regular family visit when swinging the that area of North Carolina. One of the last times I thought I’d ever see her on this side of things I asked if she had any favorite foods I might do for her towards which she might not be reticent, and she said mashed potatoes, and at her wake I recall passing along the recipe I’d done. When Ms. Lottie passed away after well eclipsing her 100th year, there was an African-American gentleman in the White House. At the service for her funeral, I and my parents were asked to be seated with the rest of her family, our family as we’d been invited, and I express greatest thanks. My Dad was privileged to give one of her many eulogies. And half of her Ms. Lottie's pallbearers were Black, and half of them were not. And I was one of them. It appears we’ve still got a long way to go, but we're not going to let Ms. Lottie down. Amen.