When Barack Obama was elected president, my late friend Emerson Stamps asked me to help him write a letter to his father, born in 1865, the year slavery ended. In this imagined correspondence, he wanted his father to know a black man had been elected.

​All four of his grandparents were enslaved and his parents were sharecroppers. In his early life, he was exposed to deprivation and bigotry. He had no shoes, but he said, “I understood the situation.” He didn’t blame anyone. He saw his childhood as an unfolding of riches.

What is completely remarkable about him is the love he had for everyone, even those who slighted him, who meant to insult him, or do violence to him because of his skin color. He recounted his history quietly, without a trace of bitterness.

As I transcribed his story, I wrote poems, and Emerson asked me to include them in his book. He wanted to share the book with his family, his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, so that they could know their family’s history.

​His story has universal importance because of his historical perspective, his non-violent position, and his enduring spiritual values. About his anger, Emerson said, “It’s there, but it’s cold.” He didn’t take on the anger his father lived by. He emulated his mother’s quiet faith, never wasting energy on bitterness. He made the choice to rise above anger. His life was driven by unconditional love.