b.r.w.

in the end, our names are not important. our stories are. after all, a name is the marker of personal glory. but it was brad who helped teach me that personal glory is not the most important thing.

when he was killed in the line of his personal fate and story, in the midst of bringing truth to us all, i was angered that he did not take better care of himself, of his own well-being, of his own person.

and in time, and with just a little reflection, i understood that this was part of his story, too. in fact, it may have been the most important part. for if one person puts their life in movement in the hopes of helping others, they can make much change. and if there were only one hundred brads in our many millions, we would have the spark we needed to burn down all the rot that has grown to cling to our eyes and clutter up our vision.

we can do this.

and the forces that would silence truth have no hope of defeating us. because you can kill one human with a bullet. and you can even kill thousands in a coup. but you can never hope to eliminate their hope, their truth, or the mission that fed their fight.

brad is dead. but his truth and his story live on. that tale and that lesson is ours, too. and now, his job, yours and mine to do.