I have always had an affinity for African American people. Their music always moved me more than the bland songs sung by white performers. Their distinctly different clothing choices made me want to be colorful like them instead of rigid and uniform like all of the white kids. In high school in the 70s I had a crush on Clemmie, a pretty black girl who never gave me the time of day. After school, I worked in the kitchen at the old Baptist Hospital and was treated like a brother by the mostly black staff. Even as a young kid, I envied African Americans for their spiritual freedom. I felt like people of color seemed to have more animated, joyous reactions to