Craig Ransom raps on a pretend door. Come in, says Charles Barnes Jr., a large man partial to print shirts. Ransom shuffles in. He leads with a handshake. Brief, but firm. Very good. Don't make that mistake of the unprofessional soul-brother handshake, Barnes will later caution. Barnes sits, but Ransom still stands. He hasn't been asked to take a seat. He addresses this point of etiquette: "May I sit, or do you... More >>>
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By Jennifer Silverberg
"I knew what kind of father I wanted to be to my daughter," Craig Ransom (with daughter Taronda) says. "Problem was, I didn't really know how to be a father."