I heard the following story from a docent at St. Joseph Plantation in Vacherie, Louisiana. It keeps replaying in my head, today even more in the wake of another mass shooting. Prayers for all the victims of the shooting in Las Vegas and for their families and friends.
In July 2016, shortly after the Dallas policemen were killed and the country was on edge, a black man on her tour began to talk about how upset he was about all the racial violence. He had come to St. Joseph that day because it was the most peaceful place he knew and he needed peace. He had grown up on the plantation. Other people may have seen poverty and deprivation, but to him it was a perfect place for a boy to grow up, with fields to roam and fish to catch and other kids to play with. It was home. And "my momma made the best gumbo."
