Jakobi––a young black man, nineteen or so––waited on us at Steak 'n Shake last week. He called me ma'am and recommended the salad. I prayed he'd make it home safely after work, but I already saw him as a corpse. So many things could go wrong. I imagined the whole scene––maybe he'd get stopped for a broken taillight and maybe the officer would mistake Jakobi's wallet for a gun.
The other day at the gym, we were talking with an African-American trainer. I saw him as a corpse, too. And also the kid who joined church last Sunday. And I'm worried for my brothers, cousins, and nephews.
A parade of corpses, real and imagined, woke me at 2:00 AM. Ben and I gave up on sleep. We passed the time with a DVD, Wall-E. It was kind of a sad movie, but at least it had a happy ending. Sometimes all you can do is hold hands and watch cartoons.
(Read more about Ferguson)