Erica and I went to an HBO screening of The Trials of Darryl Hunt by Annie Sundberg and Ricki Stern last night. Erica wrote an excellent article about the evening at Watching Things.

I fear I lack sufficient eloquence to describe the anger his story stirred in me. Racism is evil, and how this goes beyond the notice of so many simply astonishes me. But then there are people like Hunt. Darryl Hunt, who attended the screening with his wife and one of his defense attorneys, humbles me with his compassion and capacity to forgive. He has founded a nonprofit to help others that are wrongly convicted and provide reentry support for the newly released. I truly hope that with the publicity he receives from the film, The Darryl Hunt Project will be blessed with the financial backing to take Darryl’s message out into the world.

When the projection faded, I was feeling a deep need to pray for Darryl and his family - that he might live the rest of his life in peace. But when he spoke, he asked for prayers for the family of the murdered woman, that they might know justice and peace that the real killer of their loved one has finally been brought to justice. He remembers each day that a life was lost, and while his struggle has been hard, there is no pain like that of losing a loved one.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousands winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.

Mary Elizabeth Frye - 1932