Once, several years back, I attended a Halloween party with some friends. As I arrived, I noticed the parties' host, a good friend of mine, had a swastika armband on as part of a quarter-assed costume he'd thrown together an hour before his guests showed up.
I remember my stomach
sinking when I saw it.
I knew this guy well — he was kind and generous person. I knew there wasn't an ounce of anything resembling Nazi-support in him. His costume was at worst an indication of his naivety, immaturity and one thoughtless decision, not evidence of calculated bigotry or deep-seated darkness.
I'd known him...
