We seem doomed to fight the same battles, replay the same massacres, weep again beneath the same old lynching tree. Now we’re caught in the knots our ancestors tied. We’ve been running from history for a long while now, watering the continent with blood and imagining all along the way that we were racing forward: not fleeing in fear but charging into a bolder, freer future. I t is hard, as an American, to take much pleasure in the irony that the past appears to be catching up with the United States.
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