To step inside Plant Riverside District’s Baobab Lounge is to immerse oneself deep within an authentic experience of the grace, wisdom, and beautiful mystery of an Africa rarely evoked on this side of the Atlantic. The experience comes largely at the courtesy of diverse artists’ (only some of whom are mentioned in this essay) and once-living animals’ whose presence successfully conjures the meaning of another name by which the word-famous Baobab tree is known: “The Tree of Life.”
​
But even before entering its doors from within the Power Plant lobby, one is greeted (in a manner of speaking) by White American sculptor Terry Lee’s life-sized creations of a Massai Maiden and Warrior. Their bearing leaves no doubt you are about to exchange one known reality for another.    

Among the  most  enthralling  examples are  two descendants of dinosaurs, in the form of giant crocodiles that look large enough to swallow an adult human in one gulp, hanging from the ceiling and wall of the lounge. One is named Nero and the other Brutus. (According to an info packet generously provided by Plant Riverside District’s PR office, Brutus hangs upside down “because he jumped into Mr. Kessler’s boat and started doing the death roll.”) They have ample company, including two ostriches named Otis and Ostara. (It should be noted that, for some, as often happens with grand-scaled ventures, these and various aspects of the lounge have been the subject of debates and controversies regarding interpretations or possible misinterpretations of how they are curated.)   

On a very different note, the soulful oversized canvases of Black Zimbabwean Munyaradzi Chibaya bring visitors face to face (literally) with dynamically-colored portraits of heritage and dignity. Similarly, and yet differently, White American painter John Banovich’s renderings of African wildlife at peace with itself. Ceramic sculptures by Black American “African Nouveau” artist Woodrow Nash, whose work is celebrated internationally. It is further underscored by White South African Kobus Moller’s vibrant mural painting of Black Africans in the village setting of the Zambezi River Valley.  

The convergence of works by different artists from different national and racial backgrounds presenting their visions of African life and culture within this space provides compelling evidence of the syncretic splendor that becomes possible when diversity is cultivated rather than suppressed. In truth, an abundance of such evidence may be viewed in William Austin Smith’s documentary, “300 Years in the Making” The Story of Savannah’s Historic Plant Riverside.
​
“I think this African lounge,” says Kessler, speaking in the video, “which we call the Baobab Lounge after the Baobab tree, the famous tree that grows to be thousands of years old, it ties all together into the history of African culture and the richness it brings to Savannah, Georgia.”

Throughout the video, the voices of Black, White, and Brown people, men and women (including members of the Kessler family) are heard expressing astonished joy in what they have been able to bring to the project. The contributions of demolition workers, concrete pumpers, and construction laborers are clearly no less indispensable than those of the financiers, architects, and designers whose collective efforts shaped a dream into a one-of-a-kind physical phenomenon.

Watching and listening to different participants is almost like watching a contemporary film adaptation of Walt Whitman’s famous poem, “A Song for Occupations,” in which he extols the innate value and virtues of the everyday worker and human being:
​
“The sum of all known reverence I add up in you whoever you are,
The President is there in the White House for you, it is not you
            who are here for him,
The Secretaries act in their bureaus for you, not you here for them…”

Among the most astonishing aspects of the District’s story is the relatively short period of time it took to transform almost four acres of structures designed to meet a city’s energy needs in the 20th century, into a complex of 21st century hospitality suites and entertainment platforms designed to help a community reclaim a large part of its once fragmented identity.  

Consider the following timeline factors: from the former power plant’s closing in 2005, to Kessler’s purchase of the property in 2013, then breaking ground for the rehabilitation project on December 7, 2016, and the District’s grand opening on July 29, 2020, took only fifteen years. The period of actual reconstruction, from 2016 until 2020, took only four.
​
By way of contrast: the bridge spanning the Savannah River just a short distance from Plant Riverside has also undergone different forms of metamorphoses since its initial construction as a two-lane cantilever truss bridge in 1953. While still in the planning stages, developers recommended naming it the Tomochichi Bridge, in honor of the Yamacraw Mico Chief who helped James Oglethorpe make Georgia America’s thirteenth colony. That idea was scrapped and Talmadge’s name adopted instead. 

When the current cable-stayed bridge took the place of the two-lane bridge in 1991, advocates for change (then Mayor John Rousakis among them) felt the time perfect to adopt a new name representative of a new era. That did not happen then, and did not happen later in 2017 when Mayor Eddie W. DeLoach submitted to the Georgia General Assembly a letter in which he shared this:

“…residents of Savannah and historians from across the region have made compelling cases that the bridge’s namesake, former Gov. Eugene Talmadge, is not a reflection of modern Georgia, and has no strong connection with the City of Savannah…”

How absurdly ironic is it that the word dinosaur should take on two extremely different meanings when, on one hand, contemplating “the bridge’s namesake” along with struggles to have the name changed, then on the other hand, marveling at a 135-foot chrome wonder named Miss Chromina Joule. The first instance points to an ongoing decades-long battle against intergenerational trauma generated by something and someone which, as Mayor DeLoach pointed out,” is not a reflection of modern Georgia, and has no strong connection with the City of Savannah…” That makes the name itself a dinosaur in the sense of an antiquated relic with no functional value.

In the second instance, the word dinosaur indicates something new, inspiring, and paradoxical––as in the aforementioned Chromina Joule. Risen like a phoenix from history’s icy ashes. This phenomenon would seem much less probable, and yet there she is. 

​What may be most tragic about distant legislators’ insistence on flattering the overindulged vanity of a few at the anguished psychological, spiritual, and economic expense of many, is that instead of bringing greater honor to the former governor’s name, it has done the exact opposite. People who knew nothing about his white supremacy agenda (or how son Herman extended it for much of his time in office) and who were content to respect his political victories while leaving everything else to historical footnotes, now find themselves stunned when learning about his aggressive oppression of African Americans.  

Allowing dynastic authoritarianism and the presumption of privilege to dictate the name of public space is more likely to guarantee failure of attempts to establish a more perfect union than successful achievements of the same as we mark America’s 250th birthday, and brace ourselves for whatever comes next. What makes the attachment of a demoralizing discordant name to a bridge is that the structure itself serves both literally and symbolically as a means of connecting divided sides. When representative of someone who promoted the exact opposite, the intended purpose, regardless of rationales and justifications offered, is thoroughly defeated.

The almost surrealistic presentation of Plant Riverside District’s curated displays of dinosaurs, boulder-sized crystals, captivating art reflecting diverse cultures, and replicated wildlife commands more than well-earned admiration. It proposes a narrative of renewal and sustainability that effectively combats the more toxic storyline of America succumbing to dystopian conditions characterized by unchecked demagoguery and the incremental erasure of basic civil liberties.
Even more importantly, it provides a compelling reminder that the story of humanity upon planet Earth within the known universe is only a fraction of a fraction of something more incomprehensibly infinite! The cosmos, Earth itself, and all living things upon it have their own tales of existential being and non-being.

The pettiness of bigotry and greed, which too often define structures of human hierarchies, when viewed through such a multifaceted lens, loses any appearance of value in the dizzying whirl of countless endings and beginnings. The kind of human-sustained culture of disregard and impunity that makes practices of racism, xenophobia, sexism, class domination, and addiction to war appealing to many, becomes verifiably moronic and insufferably obsolete. That more mindful sense of stewardship along with freedom and justice for the one and the many gains a better chance at realization beyond even the worst of nefarious schemes or the very best of well-intended dreams. 

So far as any recognition as any recognition which the two Talmadge governors may be due for public services rendered goes, it could still be sufficiently acknowledged with a historical marker documenting the history of the bridge. In addition, it should not be forgotten that an actual statue of Eugene Talmadge stands on the grounds of Georgia’s state capitol building in Atlanta. A short walking-distance from that is the Talmage Plaza, where a statue of his son Herman also stands.

Furthermore: a number of books on the former governors are readily available, most notably perhaps The Wild Man from Sugar Creek: The Political Career of Eugene Talmadge (1975) by William Anderson. There is also the essay, “The Bridge and the Monument: A Tale of Two Legacies,” published in The American Poet Who Went Home Again (2008). (The essay, which contrasts the legacy of the governor with that of the late Dr. Abigail H. Jordan, was one of the catalysts for the historic "Re-naming the Talmadge Bridge: A Conversation About Community Reconciliation and Progress" symposium held at the Savannah Theater in 2017.)   
​
The question of why such extensive confirmation of the name’s historical importance has not been determined sufficient is worth consideration. Part of the reason might the absence of any kind of full-length documentary or fictional dramatization of the highly-polarizing figures. With the state of Georgia having become a major film industry hub, one might think producers, directors, and script writers would find the story of its father-and-son governors irresistible.  

​​Neither the Savannah City Council, troops of Girl Scouts, national journalists, poets, nor a succession of mayors have been able to convince special-interest Talmadge lobbyists to relinquish their insistence on chaining the bridge like a runaway slave to nightmares from the past, an insistence repeatedly proven more harmful than beneficial. More ignominious than laudable. One way to measure the likely truth, or falsehood, of such an assertion is by examining the apparent values and intentions reflected in the phoenix-like rise of something old and yet new on Savannah’s riverfront: the Plant Riverside District, known more officially as JW Marriott Savannah Plant Riverside District.

For its manifestation of an inspiring vision of “revitalization and enrichment of communities…creating a new legacy and vibrant destination on Savannah’s riverfront,” the Plant Riverside District has been celebrated in many ways.
​
The Congress for New Urbanism recognized the accomplishment with its 2021 Charter Awards Grand Prize; Time Magazine shined a spotlight on it in 2021 when declaring Savannah one of the “World’s Greatest Places”; and the Urban Land Institute acknowledged it with the 2021 Global and Americas Awards for Excellence. Since those plague-haunted pandemic days, the District’s JW Marriott Hotel has appeared on numerous “best of” lists, including US News & World Report 2026 selections of choice hotels in Savannah. 

​The District’s 2022 induction into the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s Historic Hotels of America is particularly notable for recognition of how it honors history, restores shared utility, and ensures sustainability. That this 21st century marvel was once an abandoned power plant more than 100 years old, is now a frequently-storied fact. How long it might have remained that way if hotelier Richard C. Kessler and diverse teams of experts had not worked to transform it, at a cost of some $375 million, is anybody’s guess. That they managed to do this while preserving integral elements of the original structure, like its twin smokestacks and original wall of manually-operated power switches, is a feat that challenges belief.

More important than the accolades bestowed upon the triumphant achievement itself may be the flexibility of the mindset that made it possible. Much like the liberating convictions that made American democracy itself possible (despite flawed applications of the same), it basically is one that embraces a culture of mindful stewardship and celebratory inclusion over their opposites. Throngs of tourists and Savannahians have discovered there is much to admire about the results thus far. 

Savannah native Kessler is a well-known lover of art. His passion for inspired creative vision is evident to anyone familiar with his Kessler Collection luxury boutique properties, or the Autograph Collection of hotels developed in association with Bill Marriott, Jr. In many ways, the Plant Riverside District, where displays of captivating art and historic artefacts meet the eye at nearly turn, is the ultimate expression of the concept that gave birth to its predecessors. In many other ways, it is much more than that.
​
The overall design of the hospitality and entertainment complex presents a story of emergence from an extraordinary past to claim splendors of the present and secure possibilities for the future. The suspended 135-foot chrome skeleton replica of the Amphicoelias fragillimus dinosaur, “lovingly named Miss Chromina Joule,” leaves no doubt about that. Soaring all around her are rainbow-winged pterodactyls, plus more dinosaurs are outlined on occasional tiles of the floor far beneath them in the atrium of the Power Plant Building lobby. 

Positioned near the shining tail end of the dinosaur, just beneath the ledge of Beethoven’s Music Terrace where a life-sized bronze statue of Ludwig van Beethoven stands enraptured by music, is a large, embossed sculpture of a stegosaurus. Adding to the historical effect are such unexpected displays as the tusks of giant mastodons, the full-sized remains of a giant turtle, and the jaw-dropping skeleton of an Ice-age cave bear standing upright. Not too surprising, then, that many visitors refer to the riverfront accommodations as the “Dinosaur Hotel.” How does Kessler feel about that?

“Plant Riverside District’s dinosaur is the hallmark of the property,” he said, speaking with Debra Bokur for Global Traveler magazine. “All over the country, people know us as the Dinosaur Hotel and come here specifically to see this feature. Staying at JW Marriott at Plant Riverside District feels like you are in the movie A Night at the Museum, where history is all around you and coming to life before your very eyes.”
​

The Jurassic-period installation is, however, only one spectacular feature offered within the massive complex. Free museum tours, art galleries, rooftop lounges, dazzling amethyst geodes and huge quartz crystals, live music venues, public plazas, the Martin Luther King Jr. Park, diversely-themed restaurants and bars, 419 exquisitely-curated rooms, and increased access to the Savannah River itself with a 1,100-foot extension of the public riverwalk gives substantial weight to its designation as a “destination within a destination.” 

The bust of Dr. King in the District’s MLK Park, created by sculptor Franco Castelluccio, makes a powerful addition to public representations of Blacks in Savannah. More than a simple likeness of the great civil rights leader, the base of the bust is inscribed with texts from some of Dr. King’s most famous speeches. It also quotes extensively an “Emancipation Day Address” he gave in the city in 1961. Although not labeled as such, his words reject any suggestion that the name on the nearby bridge should remain as it is:

“…The problem we face down here in the South is not only tension between black men and white men. That isn’t it. It is the tension between justice and injustice.”

The relative scarceness of such representations compared to the numerous historic white male figures perched on pedestals throughout the city (the soldier atop the controversial Confederate Monument in Forsyth Park among the most famous), was a driving force behind the decade-long battle to erect the African American Family Monument further east on River Street in 2002. Progress continued in 2024 with the successful renaming of the former Calhoun Square to [Susie King] Taylor Square. Still, acknowledgement of Blacks’ many contributions to the history and present-day cultural and economic vitality of the city does not end with the bust of Dr. King.

NEXT: Democracy and Dinosaurs down by the Riverside (part 3 of 3)

A culture of disregard built upon an infrastructure of impunity, more than likely, is not something most Americans would knowingly choose to include in celebrations of America250. A choice of that nature would mean celebrating such developments as diminished civil liberties, disdain for guidelines provided in the U.S. Constitution on behalf of U.S. citizens, the overt promotion of xenophobia, and the presentation of rewards in honor of heinous infamy.

Although hardly in alignment with what are generally referred to as democratic values, evidence of such a culture “in the land of the free and the home of the brave” is announced in news headlines almost daily. Possibly more damning than anything else is that millions of Americans in 2026 are convinced their government is more representative of an authoritarian regime, or an oligarchy, or a fascist dictatorship rather than a democratic republic. Polls like the Navigator Research and the PEW Research Center have confirmed that perception repeatedly.

Such 21st-century U.S. Supreme Court rulings as restricting women’s reproduction rights in 2022, and diluting the hard-won safeguards of the 1965 Voting Rights Act in 2026, reveal fundamental social and political divisions yet to be resolved in a manner satisfactory to all stakeholders. A barrage of 225 executive orders in 2025, with one incomprehensibly-crammed bill signed into law on July 4, 2025, and a succession of wars labeled “military campaigns” guaranteed movements more toward autocracy than government for the people or by the people. 

​One of the most harmful repercussions of maintaining a culture of disregard built upon an infrastructure of impunity––whether while observing Juneteenth, July 4th, Thanksgiving, or any other holiday––is the reinforcement of conditions previously identified as toxic or corrosive. Then promoting them as somehow ethically responsible or patriotic. Consequently, various communities end up experiencing different examples of prolonged pain-riddled regression.

A long-standing illustration is the success which special-interest lobbyists and “old guard” social groups have had to date preventing the name of the Eugene Talmadge Memorial Bridge from being changed to something less racially antagonizing to citizens of Savannah, Georgia. And for that matter, to millions of tourists who visit the city every year. If any kind of momentum was building in the late 2010s and mid-2020s to renew efforts to make the change, it appears to have vanished in the wake of attention commanded by aggressive raids of the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in the southeast.

Suddenly orphaned children and disappeared men and women have a way of shifting existential priorities. Yet the sociopolitical dynamics that prompted the shift in the first place remain to be addressed before conditions deteriorate further.
​
You might think it would have been a lot easier to change the name of the Eugene Talmadge Memorial Bridge than it was to convert the decommissioned Georgia Power Plant Riverside facility, on the northwest end of River Street in Savannah, into the visionary model of urban revitalization now known as: the JW Marriott Savannah Plant Riverside District. Apparently, however, you and the rest of the world would be wrong. 

Despite repeated attempts by Savannah residents since the early 1990s to have the name changed, it has remained firmly in place. For that, die-hard regressionists can indeed thank ICE for its shock-and-awe attention-grabbing tactics. But mostly they can thank the powerful Georgia General Assembly (GGA) lobbyists whose agenda aligns more neatly with contempt and privileged indulgence than it does with any concepts of unified coexistence.
Rationale offered for retaining the name evokes such reasons as ensuring historical authenticity, and abiding by state mandates that prohibit the renaming of state-owned structures designated as “memorials” without approval of the GGA. It is difficult to take the point regarding authenticity seriously because Talmadge’s name along with achievements and misdeeds associated with it are thoroughly documented. What stands irrefutable are observations of the kind noted in Kennesaw State University’s Georgia Journeys:

“Talmadge claimed [the case of] King v. Chapman threatened segregation and white supremacy in Georgia and he promised as governor he would defend both.”

How can a landmark as dominating as a 10,037-foot-long bridge bearing his name not be viewed as an extension of those same stated intentions? For that matter, how could congressional district maps, intentionally and with unapologetic impunity, redrawn to favor republican candidates in Texas, Alabama, Florida, Louisiana, Missouri, North Carolina, and Tennessee for 2026 mid-term elections not be viewed through a similar lens? 

​Considerations are underway to possibly rename the bridge when a new one, or a tunnel, is constructed to replace the current structure. For that reason, some contend the best opportunity to change the name would be whenever the new thoroughfare is completed. Residents cannot help being skeptical because the previous replacement made zero difference.

​For individuals who lived through Jim Crow-era terrorism (lynchings, false imprisonments, disenfranchisement) during Eugene Talmadge’s multiple terms as governor, and his son Herman Talmadge’s terms as governor and a senator, the bridge’s name is one that helps fuel the current rise in hate groups determined to reenact those infamous times. 

There undoubtedly are people who do not agree that what has been called the psychic damage inflicted by a culture of disregard that dismisses the psychological pain and physical well-being of African Americans, and others, holds any noteworthy significance. What, in fact, makes it overwhelmingly significant is knowing how easily dismissal at such a basic level can carry over (and historically often has caried over) into assassinations at more organically existential levels. That means it becomes easier to ignore, and in essence “normalize,” such under-reported injustices as:

1. Extreme disparities in rates of imprisonment when it comes to African Americans.
2. The disturbing higher rate of infant mortality deaths among Black women.
3. The greater likelihood of impaired health caused by environmental hazards.
4. The persistent plague of excessive violence, including death, at the hands of law enforcement officials.
5. The ever-persistent wealth gap.

What does all of this have to do with the name of a certain bridge? The fact that African Americans and non-African American citizens of Savannah, as well as millions of visitors to the city, interpret the bridge’s name as an official endorsement of white supremacy by the state is not a minor matter. Add to the above observations the fact that Savannah has long had a majority Black population and it becomes (or at least should become) even more clear why citizens have peacefully, respectfully, and via official channels, requested removal of the name.

NEXT: Democracy and Dinosaurs down by the Riverside (part 2 of 3): Chromina

If you missed part 1 of Portrait of Dynamic Soul-Warrior Dr. Patricia M. Stewart and would like to read it, PLEASE CLICK HERE. Part 2 with concluding poem and reflections begins now:

It was amazing to witness her winning tennis championships in her 70s, and winning a battle against COVID-19 in her 90s when science declared the odds stacked against her. It was astounding to see so many others benefit from the increasing luminosity of her spiritual clarity as she continued to provide counsel, empowerment, and guidance for them even as she fought her own personal battles on a daily basis. A “phenomenal woman,” as Maya Angelou might have said,  indeed.

I mentioned before the inevitability of poetry developing from the meeting of our minds-hearts-souls. What follows is a dialogic example which began composing itself of both our voices several years ago and which took on its present form over the past few weeks.

I.
Once, when talking with my Beloved Phenomenal Friend,
my soul complained about senseless cruelties in the world,
about the way ignorance had demolished democracy,
and demagogues rained bombs on little boys and girls.

“In a time such as now,” my Friend replied, “it’s people like you
who weave word fabric for embodied life and tent-tapestry
weaving and repair. With unlimited imagination these are
primary corners holding up life, artistry and lure of language.”

II.
Sometimes, in unexpected hours on uncertain days,
my heart would drum rhythms of rage and  anxiety
over human beings’ disregard for Mother Earth,
over the way too many abused her precious sanctity.

“For me,” said my Friend, “there’s a place and space here
to hum, mumble, rap, testify and wander into a broad
complementary belonging that is an accumulative process
of corners of prayer, peace, prosperity and planetary survival.”
 
III.
Certain moments would arrive, every now and then,
when in meditation or a dream I would sit with my Friend,
we would gather broken fragments of trust and belief,
then glue the shattered-heart pieces back together again.

“We’ve got such an embodiment of brilliance
in the light spectrum of blessings! I’m finding born
light that is a source of joy. It is holding corners
of umbilical literacy as storage and loving space.”
 
lV.
In deep meditation still. Or a dream. Blessed with an image
of us on a grassy hill laughing at pompous drunk kings
angrily chasing butterflies they could never claim––
making light in your eyes laugh and tears in my voice sing.

“Looking and capturing trips and stories that stay tuned,
and soaring in the slopes. My ongoing wandering and wondering
is the charge and channel for giving eyes and effort to
an Ubuntu collection of gifts to ‘heaven havens on earth.’”

V.
Toni Morrison said this for us: that the word “goodbye”
has little meaning for a companion to one’s mind.
Whether at joyful day’s beginning or lonely night’s ending––
one bird trilling jazz, and another gospel, remain two of a kind.

“My friend I’ve been in a Genesis world of change. The sweetest
moment that holds grace as a forever priceless belonging—gifted.
Making life for corners that refresh, reclaim, the energy of love
holding it up. Mellow and glorified… and soaring in the slopes.”

(by Aberjhani and Patricia M. Stewart, Jan 2019 – Jan 19, 2026)

​Considering the origins and definitions associated with her name, everything about Dr. Patricia Metheuse Stewart made and makes sense: “Patricia,” indicating a graceful aristocratic bearing or manners of nobility; “Matheus,” meaning “Gift of God/Yahweh”; and “Stewart,” as in steward, or guardian of the house. That others appreciated these qualities in her was celebrated while she lived when the Georgia State Assembly, in honor of her 2019 90th birthday, named her  one of Georgia’s Outstanding Citizens. To put it another way, members of the Assembly realized she was an extremely valuable guardian of at least one corner of the state over which they had been given official charge.

Moreover, in her diverse roles as a grandmother, university professor, senior VP for social service organizations, and authority on religious education, she was (and remains) for me nothing less than a dynamic soul warrior. Meaning someone fully committed to, and engaged in, efforts to heal the wounded spirits of individuals and communities traumatized by heinous disregard. As such, her practice of embracing people from various backgrounds with love and compassion was never subordinate to that of employing intellectual brilliance to right social wrongs. They were intertwined, both designed like the threads in her metaphor of the tent woven by a tapestry weaver, to shield us from the more destructive forces of human beings' sometimes unkind nature.

The same way the state of Georgia celebrated Dr. Stewart’s many contributions to her community, numerous friends, family, and colleagues celebrated Pat’s extraordinary character beyond regional boundaries during a remembrance observation held on Zoom, December 28, 2025. A diverse group of online attendees, granddaughter Taylor Stewart and grandson Sydney Stewart among them, shared remarkable stories of her impact upon their lives. Some spoke of studying together, working with her on community projects, or receiving assistance on dissertations, while others recalled playing tennis with her, being nursed back to health by the doctor within her home, and traveling with her to France for a conference on Toni Morrison. Common to all was a profound sense of love and gratitude.  

When news reached me in mid-December 2025 of my Friend’s passing at the age of 96, I thought of how tremendously blessed I had been to know her for as long as I did. I recalled clearly that evening she first walked into my store, and life, with her friend Dessie Baker. Dessie returned to New Jersey several years before Pat’s transition and I, in fact, alluded to our first meeting in a tribute poem titled Where Only Freedom Reigned, dedicated to Dessie upon her death in 2023. Passages from different spiritual texts on the wisdom of treating strangers with kindness––such as “for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (KJB Heb. 13:2), and the story of the unknown “honored guests” (The Qur'an, Adh-Dhariyat 51:24–27)––  came to mind. I was glad I had heeded them.

Now, instead of connecting with my Friend at book signings and lectures and historic events, or exchanging emails, texts, and returned calls, we would have to hold our chats in dreams. I consider that a blessing as well.

​Anyone wishing to comment on this article is invited to do so in the section below the contact form.

Aberjhani
Author of These Black and Blue Red Zone Days
and Dreams of the Immortal City Savannah
Co-author of Encyclopedia of the Harlem Renaissance