Hollis also took us to church every Sunday. It was an old Southern Baptist church where the services bugged me out. I loved the Bible stories I was reading, but I didn’t like this room where people were falling out, catching the Holy Ghost, slobbering all over the place. That happened in a lot of black churches, and I could immediately see it was phony. The screaming and moaning just didn’t feel right. The spirit of God sounded beautiful to me, but I quickly separated the experience of God from church. I just couldn’t see God in the fake-ass preachers or people wallowing on the ground. But I
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