Submitted. Personalities clash. Tempers flare. Anger erupts. Visions compete …

Anguish is remembered. Pain re-lived. Hate re-kindled. Passion rises …

Broken people cry for help. Damaged people try to help. Fools have courage knowing not what they are saying … nor where they are going … or how to get there.

A community rebuilds its shattered soul.

A people, so battered by the ugliness and shame of those who have smilingly issued words of reassurance that all that needed doing was being done while lying and committing horrific acts while clasping their bibles to their chests.

How does a people begin to repair the damage, done in its name to fellow citizens who may never recover from the hatred imposed upon them by those with guns, authority and the permission granted by a careless disregard for our collective responsibility?

By forging ahead in the hopes that whatever redemption may hang in the balance is meaningless. What matters … the only thing that matters … is that one more person than yesterday is sleeping safe, belly full, undisturbed by the merchants of hate who, until now have operated with impunity in our city because they claimed to have our permission.

Shame on those who would stand in our way on this road to redemption. For they have been the ones who have acted on our behalf and made us all guilty of their sins.

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