By Ericka Alston Buck
Special to the AFRO
The Enoch Pratt Free Library’s Central Branch hosted a full, yet intimate gathering Sept. 4th as Dr. Frances “Toni” Draper, fourth-generation publisher of the AFRO-American Newspapers, presented her newest work, “Prayer and Pen.”
In conversation with Karsonya “Dr. Kaye” Wise Whitehead of WEAA 88.9 FM, Draper invited Baltimore into the life and words of her grandfather, Carl J. Murphy, who led the AFRO from 1922 to 1967 and quietly penned prayers that spanned some of the nation’s most turbulent decades.
The evening opened with reflections on the AFRO’s enduring role in Baltimore and beyond.
Draper was quick to credit her predecessors.
“I stand on the shoulders of those who came before me, literally came before me,” she said, noting the presence of family, colleagues and longtime AFRO supporters in the audience.
One attendee, Alicia Wilson, who serves The Johns Hopkins University as vice president for civic engagement and opportunity, explained her motivation for coming.
“I understand the power of prayer,” she said. “Her family understands the power of prayer, and I couldn’t do anything but support her support what she does in Baltimore.”
The prayers as testimony
Draper described how her grandfather scribbled prayers on scraps of paper—never intended for publication, but now preserved as testimony.
“Editorial was his sword. His prayers were his Bible,” she said. One prayer, written after President Eisenhower’s dismissive reference to “our Negro citizens,” rang out in the Pratt auditorium:
“ ‘We do not belong to Mr. Eisenhower. We are not his but American citizens… Help us never accept an inferior status in our own thinking, nor to believe ourselves superior to others. Amen,’” read Draper, from the book of prayers.
Rebekah Opher, who had pre-ordered her copy, said she would not have missed the event.
“I was so excited to get Dr. Draper’s book pre-ordered… She said she was going to do signings and have a discussion—I could not have missed this. I love talking to her when I see her, and I can’t wait to see what we hear from her next,” said Opher.
Archives as compass
Working with Afro Charities, Draper and her team paired the prayers with period photographs and archival headlines.
“We divided them into chapters—politics, family, labor, seasons—and then matched them with the images that lived in that same moment,” she explained. The result is a book that reads as both devotional and historical record.
One short, but powerful prayer drew a collective hush from the crowd:
“…help us to distinguish the important from the unimportant and to keep our feet firmly in the path which leads to the main goals…”
Community dialogue and Q and A
The program included an audience Q and A segment. Questions ranged from time management to how Draper maintains enthusiasm for her work. She credited her faith, prayer partners and “being intentional” with her time. “Schedule yourself on your own calendar,” she urged.
For Natasha Murphy, the evening was a reminder of the power of storytelling.
“Dr. Draper is a legend, and so any opportunity to hear her speak– to hear her family’s legacy– is an opportunity that I will avail myself of,” said Murphy. “I’m walking away tonight with her final parting word—the notion that we all have a story that’s worth capturing, worth documenting and worth amplifying and sharing.”
A book signing that felt like revival
After the program, books were available for purchase, and a long line quickly formed for the signing. Attendees clutched their fresh copies, waiting to share a personal word, snap a photo and walk away with Draper’s signature. The line stretched through the Central Hall, underscoring both the draw of Draper’s name and the hunger for a book that fuses personal devotion with public history.
Draper also used the evening to sound a call for sustaining Black-owned media, noting that only about 200 such outlets remain nationwide. “Credible news is hard to come by,” she said. “We tell stories others don’t—and from a lens others can’t.”
When asked what advice her grandfather might offer Baltimore today, Draper’s answer was as succinct as one of his prayers.
“We’ve been this way before; we’ll be this way again. Remember your lessons—and keep moving. Don’t be scared,” Draper read. “Stand together. Focus on the outcomes you want to see.”
As the final prayers were read and the last books signed, a message lingered: history lives when it is spoken, shared and carried forward. “Prayer and Pen” is not just a book, but a bridge—linking Baltimore’s past to its present, and guiding its future with faith, truth and resolve.