Be steady. Be sure.

On May 14, a white supremacist terrorist gunned down ten Black people. His manifesto detailed his belief in the ludicrous "great replacement theory," wherein liberal elites—mostly Jews, of course—are bringing in "hordes" of "mud people" to replace white Americans. It's an insane theory, and I won't bother going more into it.

I also won't mention the terrorist's name. His name will be swallowed up in obscurity. He will die in prison—either naturally, or by some other means—and no one will mourn him. He will be consigned to oblivion, which is what he deserves. He will not destroy this republic.

But remember these people.

Remember Aaron Salter, the store's security guard, who died trying to stop this excrement.

Remember Ruth Winfield, who was on her way back from visiting her husband in a nursing home.

Remember Pearly Young, who ran a food pantry, helping her community.

Remember Katherine Massey, who was spoken of as a beautiful soul.

Remember Deacon Heyward Patterson, who would help people get to the Tops Market where the pogrom happened.

Remember Celestine Chaney, grandmother of six, great-grandmother of one.

Remember Roberta A. Drury, 32, her life cut down before it had fully bloomed.

Remember Margus D. Morrison, a First Student bus aid who loved the kids he helped and almost never called in sick to work.

Remember Andre Mackneil, at the Tops store buying a cake for his three year old son.

Remember Geraldine Talley, who had just learned she was about to be a first-time grandmother.

These are the honored dead, who had no reason to die. These are the men and women, pillars of their communities, fiercely loved by their families and friends, whose names we need to cherish and hold dear. Their lives and deaths are what have meaning, not that small, evil man who took them.

I don't care what happens to the murderer. His fate is sealed, and is merited. Whether he lives or dies is inconsequential to me. All we can learn from him is that there are many more like him, and we will meet his like again. They are a dying race, and we should let them die.

My concern is for those of us who wish to live a decent life. My concern is for those of us who, as the poet said, know that force, history, hatred are not life for men and women, lives of insult. My concern is for those of us that know that the only thing which is really life is the opposite of hatred: love. We have a mighty struggle ahead of us. It's the mightiest, most consequential struggle in human history. It's the struggle in which we can secure that hopeful future for human beings. And it won't be a struggle without loss. It won't be a struggle without blood. But it's a struggle we cannot avoid. It's a struggle we must win.

They took our elders, but we have their memories. They took our elders, but we have their wisdom. They took our elders, but we are called upon to take their places.

We have a war to win. We can do no other.