We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.
— Martin Luther King, Jr.
The way she appeared suddenly just outside the gallery door alarmed me.
I can’t say she looked at us as much as she looked through us, her expression blank and dry despite the humid Charleston heat.
My first outing of this recent day was a lovely morning walk with my brother as we photographed hundreds-year-old churches and through a fence examined the stockades that held slaves awaiting their eventual sale. On the way back to the quaint hotel in which we had been staying comfortably, with its free bottles of water and sodas and its afternoon wine and cheese pairings, we traveled past the site of a former Freemason headquarters and, incongruously, a modern motel. As I sat in my air-conditioned room, I thought of the peace of the boardwalk that had…