Unnoticed stones

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When she knew she was dying, my grandmother took me to see the cornerstone of a small brick church in my hometown of Kansas City, Missouri. I didn’t recognize the sign outside. It was a Baptist church, I think. It was pretty rundown, but still in better shape than the neighborhood. Overgrown vacant lots were everywhere; it was like visiting an abandoned church in the jungle.

But here we were, my grandmother showing me where to pull the car over so we could get out and see. She took me to the side of the building where we could look at the cornerstone. Sure enough, it was 2nd Christian Church—a common church name for the first Disciples of Christ church started by African Americans in a given community.