I recently went to the Smoky Mountains with some friends to do some rock climbing. We came to a small town near Knoxville, Tennessee, and pulled into a little country store.

I walked in. Three white guys sitting there gave me, a black guy, looks I've never seen before. One of them said, "You don't belong around here--boy."

At first I couldn't believe he was talking to me. Then I couldn't believe my ears when he said, "Stick around here after dark and we'll hang you." I was thinking, Man, we're sending rockets to Mars and there are still people living in this kind of blind racial ignorance. Suddenly, I was experiencing hatred, the kind of bigotry I'd only read about or seen on TV. I'll never forget how I felt in that little country store. Less than human. Alone.

Fortunately, I didn't lash out; I knew Jesus wouldn't have. I knew God wanted me to keep my anger under control. So I calmly explained to that man that racism is a thing of the past. I even surprised myself at the restraint I showed.