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The New 50s
The knock on our bedroom door came at 2 a.m. It was my 11-year-old daughter, Ariane, complaining through tears that her legs were cramping in pain. Rising from bed, I stood gingerly on my own creaky legs. Some kind of “-itis” was stiffening them, but I didn’t want to claim it by giving it a…
Black News and Black Views with a Whole Lotta Attitude
