Witty Witness

At a leadership conference I attended recently, the facilitator of the afternoon session told the room the following story (paraphrased from my memory)... "A man was walking down the road when he came across another man busting up rocks with a sledge hammer. The man working in the heat of the afternoon cussed and grumbled as he broke up the large rock. When the man walking down the road stopped and asked the man what he was doing, he replied that he was busting up rocks for some stupid reason, and he couldn't wait for 5 o'clock to arrive so he could leave this awful employment and go home. The man walking down the road walked a little farther and came across another man busting up rocks with a sledge hammer. The man working in the heat of the afternoon was grumbling a bit, but didn't seem quite as ill tempered as the man he had just met. When the man walking down the road stopped and asked the man busting up rocks what he was doing, he replied he was reducing the

Her name was Angela, at least that was the name she was given, the name on the plaque I read carefully in the hot Jamestown sun. Jamestown was the first permanent English settlement on the coast of Virginia in the early 1600's. I recently took my kids on vacation there for the last week of summer break. It turns out, my kids hate history, but love Busch Gardens. Who knew? I on the other hand, found myself captivated by the place, especially the story I learned about the life of "Angela." She was one of the first Africans to arrive in English America. Her life there wasn't easy, her journey to even arrive, was just as sad and brutal. She was just one of thousands of Africans captured in Angola by the Portuguese. In 1619 she was placed on a slave ship bound for Veracruz on the coast of Mexico. The ship never arrived. The slave ship Angela was on, was attacked by two English ships in the Gulf of Mexico and plundered of 60 "human cargo." Angela was one of tw