Growing up in East St. Louis Trayvon Martin’s father, Tracy
Martin lived in our neighborhood. Along
with the other kids on our block , we played basketball right across
the street from my house. On 21st Street and Caseyville Avenue, as children, we were carefree. Back then, none of us ever
would have imagined in our wildest nightmare what would happen more than thirty years later. We could not have forseen that Tracy would have a son
who would be murdered, that it would spark nationwide protests and that it would even be commented on by the President of the United States (who would be
Black). If anyone would have told us then that this would happen, we would not have believed it. When I called Tracy to express my condolences over his son's death, it was surreal. In this world we never know what’s going to happen to us, or to the people we know. The twists and turns of this life can never be predicted. We must believe and trust that God will navigate us through them, even in our darkest hour.
