While I was recording my broadcast for Thanksgiving Day (Thursday, November 25), the verdict was announced in the court room in Brunswick, Georgia. Normally, my broadcast is live, but every year I pre-record the Thanksgiving program. This year, that pre-recording strategy left me without the top story in the entire short history of The Meetinghouse.
Two weeks ago, I stood on the steps of the courthouse and broadcast The Meetinghouse, on the very spot where today the family and friends of Ahmaud Arbery celebrated the guilty verdicts. I wish I had been there today, but my family had previously decided to gather, not at our home in Georgia but at my apartment in North Carolina. One is here now with four more (plus two dogs) on the way.
Today, when my Meetinghouse recording was over, I turned on the TV and sat for several hours listening to the reactions of family, friends, lawyers, ministers, and journalists. I confess I was moved, almost to tears, and when Rev. Al Sharpton stepped to the microphones and lifted his voice in prayer, I bowed my head and prayed.
As you may know, my home is in Glynn County, Georgia. I launched The Meetinghouse broadcast in Brunswick just days after the murder and have followed it closely on air and off. I have interviewed several persons involved, especially local ministers (including my then pastor). I was convinced from the beginning of the guilt of the three men but was wary of the will of Georgia citizens to find three white men guilty of murdering a black man.
I was wrong.
And I am glad I was wrong. I am proud today to be a Georgia citizen, a Georgia voter, a Georgia broadcaster covering the biggest story to come out of Georgia since, well, John and Charles Wesley took up ministry here in the 18th century, or since hundreds of Liberty Ships rolled off the drydocks during World War II, or since Jimmy Brown worked his way from St. Simons Island to the National Football League.
I am proud of state officials in the governor’s office and legal establishment who took charge of the investigation and appointed a prosecutorial team from Atlanta and a judge from Savannah. I am proud of state legislators who repealed the state’s citizen’s arrest law and passed a hate crime law.
I am extremely proud of my (then) pastor Tony Lankford who took a stand for justice and took to the streets to express that conviction (not knowing that it would undermine his support and lead to his resignation). I am proud of two other ministers: Rabbi Rachael Bregmen of Temple Beth Tefillah and Rev. John Perry, president of the local chapter of the NAACP, who organized regional ministers to press for justice and plead for calm.
I am sad, truly, for the three men who will likely spend their lives behind bars. I do not think they intended to do violence or murder Ahmaud Arbery. But bad things happen when guns leave the house and play a role in human confrontations. Every day brings evidence of this fundamental truth. I recall the chorus of that Johnny Cash song, “Don’t bring your guns to town.”
It is not over. There could be appeals. There are federal charges of hate crimes. A civil suit awaits. Then there will be one or more sentencing dates. And who knows what unintended consequences await: to individual people, to churches and businesses, to the legal and justice communities of Glynn County. This much is certain: the murder and trial are the most significant events in decades in this region, and it will find its place in history books, legal case books, political campaigns, and personal memories. Perhaps even art: murals, songs, plays, even movies. After all, during all this legal drama, “Black Panther 2” has been filming right here in Brunswick, Georgia.
What a day! What a trial! What a year! What a relief! What a Thanksgiving!
