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First Baptist Church East End, Newport NewsUpon the shore, a ship arrived. It sails heavy with shadows, not weighted by cargo, but souls chained, torn from homelands. Their names whispered into salt air. Point comfort bore no comfort. Only the first echo of centuries where labor was stolen, where bodies were broken, and yet where spirit endured. On auction blocks, names were broken like chains, reshaped, new ones hammered on by strangers. Old ones settled, scattered in the dust. Shame, not their own.