President Barack Obama _220
We were always sympathetic, when they just wanted to talk about ordinary things on the way to the cinema or football ground. But we knew it was wrong to beat down protesters on the streets of a country born in the belief that all men were equal. We loved the poetry and melody in the songs, which expressed that sentiment.
Now, we have a black president and we can look across the Atlantic from these Liverpool shores, where millions set off for the New World, and we can hope a man, not a god, can make some old dreams come true in the unfolding of the years.
Today, though, I think of George Francis, a slim American, born in New Orleans in times of oppression, but he heard his friend, Louis Armstrong, blowing the trumpet. George, who was 112, saw three centuries, and he jumped with joy from his wheelchair on learning Obama had won. He died with that memory a few days later.
