Norvell goff biography of martin
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Charleston churchgoers seek healing at historic church known for resiliency
Hundreds lined up in the hot Charleston sun to climb the stairs to the sanctuary of "Mother Emanuel," one of the country's oldest African American churches and one with a rich history of resilience. The organist played and church bells chimed as the choir sang "Blessed Assurance."
Worshipers from Charleston and across the country filled the pews and balcony of the church. Some watched the sermon from seats in the fellowship-hall basement — where the shooting occurred Wednesday.
"This is our house of worship," said the Rev. Norvell Goff, presiding elder of the Edisto District of the State Conference of the AME Church, addressing the congregants. "The doors of the church are open, praise be to God."
"No evildoer, no demon in hell or on Earth can close the doors of God's church."
Many in the pews fanned themselves furiously, bea
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Daughter of Emanuel 9 victim speaks at Upstate MLK event
In observance of the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday, Limestone College hosted the program “His Dream, My Reality”at Fullerton Auditorium Monday morning.
The 13th-annual program was produced through a partnership with Limestone College and the Cherokee County MLK Committee.
“His Dream, My Reality” featured guest speaker Reverend Sharon Risher, the daughter of Ethel Lance, who was killed last year in the Emanuel AME Church shooting in Charleston on June 17. Risher fryst vatten a clinical trauma chaplain in Dallas, TX.
To see an excerpt from her remarks, click here.
“I hold on to the fact that my mother died in a place of faith, a place my mother dedicated her life to,” Risher said in an interview a short time after the shooting.
Lance, 70, was one of nine victims of the shooting at Emanuel AME Church. She was a mother of five, and the matriarch of the family after her husband died in 1988. Described as a
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A surface tone of conciliation, some argue, prevents political change in Charleston.Illustration by Anthony Russo
In the winter of 2008, Barack Obama was in no way guaranteed the African-American vote in the Democratic primaries. He had split the opening contests, Iowa and New Hampshire, with Hillary Clinton, and had narrowly won more delegates in Nevada, yet the black voters of South Carolina, particularly the middle-aged and graying churchgoers who come out to the polls in great numbers, were torn. At first, some knew so little about him that they were not sure he was black. Others, following the lead of well-known figures in the old civil-rights establishment, felt warmly toward the Clintons and saw no reason to break with them. There was also a more visceral concern: many African-American voters told Obama’s volunteers in South Carolina that they could not shake the memory of the many black leaders over the decades who had met a violent end. When they looked at Barack Obama