Several days ago, I received a letter from Mark, a 21-year-old African American who lives in Washington. He described himself as a "clean-cut and responsible young man" who once was gainfully employed. On Feb. 23, while walking to a church revival, Mark said, he saw a group of black teen-agers chasing two other teens. As he attempted to get out of their way, gunfire erupted. Seconds later, "I felt my chest on fire." Mark blacked out and did not regain consciousness until several days later.

When he woke up in Howard University Hospital, he was told he had a bullet in his lung. For eight days his life hung by a thread. Now he's going through a slow and painful recovery. He owes the hospital tens of thousands of dollars. He can't work. He lost his apartment. He is angry. I am furious!

Mark is angry because he feels no one cares about his predicament. The media never reported his story, he said; the thugs, murderers and drug dealers who poison the community seem to get all the press attention. The community, he feels, is silent. Every social service agency that he turned to for help just referred him to yet another agency.

Before I attempted to call Mark, I felt as though I already knew him. Over the years, I have visited and prayed with many innocent victims of senseless crimes. I have held the hands of countless mothers and fathers in hospital waiting rooms and at cemeteries, as I shared in their grief the loss of a child killed in the dawn of life.

After finishing Mark's letter, I wondered: If he had been shot by a group of white teens or by a white police officer, would he be in the state that he is in today? I don't think so. First, the African American community would have rallied behind him. The press would have camped outside his hospital room seeking the first interview. He probably would have gotten a call from the President. All of the mayoral candidates in Washington would have found time to visit him. And somehow, that hefty hospital bill would have been taken care of.

Patterns have shown that whenever a white person attacks a black person, there always is a public outcry from the African American community, as was the case in Bensonhurst and Howard Beach, N.Y., and, just last month, in suburban Teaneck, N.J. When a white-on-black crime occurs, preachers call in the business leaders. They call in the community activists and they all flood my office with telephone calls. Everyone is mobilized and a press conference is held. Cries go out for grand jury investigations and for the appointment of a special prosecutor. The next morning the attack is headline news.