Rooftop Revelation: We Will Not Let Freedom Die
Corey Brooks, a pastor and founder of Project HOOD, shared that a visit to the Fredericksburg battlefield in Virginia brought to mind the “freedom” that soldiers fought to secure for Americans. He emphasized the importance of remembering the “heroism” of these soldiers and urged the nation to take lessons from their bravery.
As I walk the Richmond Slave Trail in Virginia, the sun beats down. I’ve been journeying across the country to raise both funds and awareness for Project HOOD, which aims to create opportunities in Chicago’s neglected neighborhoods. However, this particular stroll feels different. Following the path where enslaved Africans once marched in chains, I can almost sense the presence of their spirits, and it’s made me reflect deeply on my faith.
Richmond is a city steeped in historical irony. Once the heart of Confederate efforts to maintain slavery, I now walk its streets as a Black pastor from Chicago’s South Side, advocating for unity and hope. My intention isn’t to erase the past but to move forward, step by prayerful step.
The Slave Trail winds along the James River, passing sites of former slave cabins and locations where human lives were traded like livestock. Unlike our ancestors, who were compelled to march, my walks are voluntary—though they represent a struggle against the modern-day chains of poverty, government dependency, violence, and despair.
Galatians 5:1 reminds us, “It is for freedom that Christ has made us free.” The initial fight for freedom was against physical bondage, whereas today’s challenges are more spiritual, economic, and educational. Project HOOD seeks to liberate individuals from harmful policies, breaking the cycle that limits children’s potential.
Without God, pursuing dreams feels empty, like I learned during my travels across America.
The Bible has accompanied me throughout this journey, turning each mile into a moment for contemplation. Like Abraham in Genesis 12:1-4, who was instructed to leave his homeland, I’ve embraced faith without knowing what lies ahead. Every blister and mile represents a step of belief.
Next, I think of Joshua of Jericho (Joshua 6:1-20), who followed God’s command to march for seven days until the city walls fell. His journey was one of obedience and patience—some barriers can only be toppled through steadfast faith. In Richmond, I reflect on those who walked in silence, yearning for freedom they never attained—people who longed for liberty in ways that challenge those of us who take it for granted.
As I make this journey, Thomas Sowell’s warnings resonate with me.
On the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13-35), the disciples walked in confusion until Jesus joined them. Initially, I set out to raise money, but through this journey, my faith has deepened. We keep encountering Christ in the kindness of strangers and in conversations with locals about Richmond’s progress. An elderly woman, a descendant of a slave, said to me, “You’re walking for all of us.” In that moment, the walk revealed the Lord.
Reflecting on Paul’s own journeys (Acts 13-21), I recall how he carried hope amidst persecution. My path is no less challenging, with its struggles, yet it is sacred. Psalm 23:4 echoes in my mind, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.” I’ve traveled through dark moments but have never walked alone; God’s presence has steadied me.
Hebrews 12:1-2 encourages us to “persevere in the race set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus.” While I might say I’m “running,” it feels more like enduring—a search for salvation rather than competition. Below Richmond lies a legacy of both bondage and freedom, inviting this generation to choose which path to follow.
The route through Richmond symbolizes recovery. As 2 Chronicles 7:14 affirms, “If my people who are called by my name humble themselves and pray…” If Richmond can transform from a location associated with auctions to one of freedom, surely America’s struggling neighborhoods can too. But revival starts with one step, one prayer, one heart.
Leaving the slave path, I feel exhausted but uplifted. Those who endured here did more than survive; they prophesied that their children would one day exchange chains for the freedom to walk this very trail.
I walk for them, for every child in Chicago who deserves a chance to find purpose in life. Ultimately, freedom begins when purpose is created.
