On Sunday, January 17th at 9:45 a.m., I left my hotel in Branson, drove an hour south to the town of Zinc, Arkansas, headquarters of the Knights of the Ku Klux Klan, and went to church. I went to church with the Klan.
Saturday night, falling asleep was difficult. I lied in bed, eyes open, mind racing. Should I go? Should I not? What will it be like? How will they treat me? What will people think about me for going? Fear consumed me.
But before my eyes closed for the night, as I was listening to the worship song Sing Over Me, I decided I must go.