As I walked along Bourbon Street in New Orleans a couple of nights before the 2013 Super Bowl, my heart broke repeatedly. Young teen girls were paraded in and out of strip clubs while their pimps talked on cell phones, arranging “dates” for their victims, who would be forced to turn over every dime “earned” for providing sexual services.
As I walked toward the grocery store entrance, I cringed. The table by the door and the guy in front of the table could mean only one thing: some organization was asking people to give.
