Gifts from Prometheus explores the social and family circumstances that drove my grandfather from Georgia to Boston in 1917, and the insidious—but no less powerful—forms of racism that forced him to pass for White in 1929 when he joined the Boston Police Department.

The two-year journey to understand my grandfather’s life led me to Georgia, historic railroad towns of the Piedmont Airline route, Augusta’s segregated “Golden Blocks,” Cypress swamps along the Savannah River, forlorn cemeteries, and the neighborhoods of my native Boston. Places that long ago were imprinted in my DNA, but now are forever installed in my memories.

The book helped me understand–now with a stakeholder’s perspective–the realities of race in America. It forced me to confront my childhood complicity in bigotry and challenged half-truths we were taught about the righteousness of the North on matters of race.

Paradoxically, Gifts from Prometheus is a story about love. By discovering the unknown heroes in our family history–people of character and honor–I finally came to understand the redemptive power of family. This knowledge helped me heal generational wounds and discover feelings of belonging, heritage, and gratitude that I was so desperate for.

The book also revealed impossible-to-ignore coincidences and mysterious forces, that urged me along to complete the book and find peace in my remaining years.