I don’t imagine Calvin ever sang the blues. A person could get
fired for doing that as well.
I also recall the “cotton-choppers” that traded at my father’s
little country grocery store. A truck with a covered bed would pick them up
before daylight to take them to the fields. They would stop at our store and buy
food to eat at noon. Then, after chopping all day, they would stop back by after
dark and get something for supper and, if there was enough money left,
breakfast.
This went on until the crops were laid by. I don’t know what
they did for food until it was time to pick the cotton.
I’ll admit I never heard them sing the blues. I never heard
them sing at all. They were too tired.
I do know that I have heard stories about this farmer and
that one who would “short” them on pay and laugh about it for the victims had
no recourse for justice. Maybe they did sing the blues in the quiet and safety
of their own homes.
I also know they led a wretched, oppressed life in which
they couldn’t drink from a white water fountain, use a public restroom, send
their children to a decent school, or—oftentimes—vote.
From what I understand, it must have been those poor black folks up north that sang the blues. Those in the south were happy with their lot. Saw that on Fox News. - C.W. |
I do know that anyone who would believe they chose such a life
would be ignorant enough to believe that we choose our sexuality, or that we
should be either rewarded or punished for it.
I do know that these experiences caused me to try to lead a
life that would attend to the poor in spirit and the downtrodden and to be wary
of those who worship riches too much, whether they be hedge-fund managers,
corporate executives, or televangelists. I’ve also remained aware of the many
unearned benefits resulting from enough northern-European DNA to have me
classified as “Caucasian.”
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