The War of Colors
You can't see every disaster coming. It isn't always a vast tsunami or a volcano spewing flame and lava. Sometimes, a disaster is just a tiny crack in the sidewalk, a flake of plaster spiraling down from the ceiling. You don't notice the crack; you don't notice the plaster--not, that is, until suddenly the chasm opens beneath your feet or the ceiling caves in on you. That was how it was for Charlie Williams. One day, he was just working as an honest cop doing an honest day's work. His partner on his beat wasn't the nicest guy in town, perhaps, but Charlie got used to him and his little ways, so he could handle it. Racism comes in all colors, and Rick's is the palest gray, for now. But then he falls under a malign influence, and the cracks under Charlie's feet that didn't bother him start to star and spread and damage more and more people. From that tiny speck, it grows, with the web engulfing not just Charlie and his family but the whole country. With a world in flames, a baby is born, a baby who will grow to join the band of good men who will rise and bring an end to the war of the colors. This is a book that everyone who has ever said, "It can't happen here, to me," should read. Because it can--slowly, insidiously, but not irrevocably. Read, think--and beware.
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