I live in Small Town, USA. Make that, Small Southern Town, USA.
This week, we made and UN-made history, all at the same time. Let me explain.
Near our little uptown are two cemeteries, the Old English Cemetery, and the Freedman's Cemetery. The Old English Cemetery is marked with gravestones, many from the Revolutionary War. The headstones are well-etched and readable. The grounds are well-maintained.
The Freedman's Cemetery, a cemetery for slaves and freed blacks from the late 1700's and early 1800's, adjoins the Old English Cemetery -- with a granite wall between the two. The original wall was wooden, built in 1842. The granite replacement was erected in 1855. There are no grave markers in the Freedman's Cemetery. The cemetery was tampered with twice, first in the creation of the nearby street, and later in the widening of that street.
A year ago, our little town, I guess in an effort at making amends for generations of wrong, held a contest for artists to compete at ideas for honoring the Freedman's Cemetery. The artist who won, (her name is Maggie, too, btw), came up with the idea of creating an opening in the granite wall, a symbolic gesture. So far, good intentions, good idea.
Her original idea was to create a 20-foot gateway between the two cemeteries. Cities being what they are, a public debate ensued as the size of the opening. Granite is valuable! The wall is history! The Historic Preservation Commission got involved. The City Planner had to get his quotes in.
Finally, 7 stones have been removed from the wall, for an opening that is 5 feet wide at the widest point and 3 feet wide at the narrowest. The stones have been numbered in case we would want to replace them
~~help me understand this! Are we making this bold gesture and providing a backup plan in case we get pissed with black people again?? I don't get this part~~
and in the meanwhile, "the stones can be used for benches and tables," --direct quote from The Planner, one of my favorite people. "Part of the reason for the wall project was an attempt at making amends for the desecration," The Planner said.
Oh. Right.
Right. We're going to create a database as to where the tables and benches are, with the numbers still crayola'ed underneath, so that, if we get stupid and reinstate White Supremacy, we can dissemble them and rebuild the wall!! Brilliant.
Are the people who cry out "Historic!" really saying, "I like the walls between the races!" ?
Give me a break. Just because something's been there for a long time doesn't mean it always has to stay. Remember the story about the generations of women who cut both ends off their hams before cooking? And the generations of men who cringed to see the pricey meat go straight into the trash? They finally queried Great-grandma on her deathbed as to why she had cut the ends off before cooking. "My pot was only this big," she wheezed.
Correcting the flawed thinking of the past isn't sacrilege. It's ENLIGHTENMENT. It's growth. It's creating a NEW page of history.
Do not, do NOT, read this and say that ol' Maggie is anti-preservation. My heart breaks every time I see a tree pulled down. Damnable parking lots. I live in an historic home and attend an historic church. President of an historic neighborhood.
The difference is in the PAIN caused by the walls, by the damned Confederate flag, by the giant monument standing in the center of our uptown. Yes, it's history, folks, and HISTORY BE DAMNED.
Speaking of which, how much rectification can we claim? We pull out 7 stones, mark them for future replacement, to create a 3-foot gateway, and KEEP the GIANT STATUE in HONOR of the many who lost their lives fighting to keep slavery??
I've got to wonder if anyone else notices the irony of the whole thing...
Sunday, June 26
Thursday, June 23
Reflections
Another day in the life of a middle-aged female wasp in normal town, usa. Arts & crafts at VBS this morning. Amazing what a few "That's beautiful!" or "Five me on that one!" can do for a kid. Suddenly, they love you forever. Hug your legs in the grocery. They don't remember my name, but they remember my smile. I guess that's even better.
Refinishing of kitchen floor is ongoing this week so we are OUT of the kitchen. Refrigerator is in hallway -- walk through sideways. Calling out for dinner every night is not as much fun as I had imagined. Suddenly I like my own food. The floor is looking lovely (on the few occasions I'm allowed to peek in) and Dear Husband has worked himself silly getting it all done. We have vacuumed and vacuumed, the whole house, to ensure that not a speck of dust gets trapped in the varnish. Vacuumed the actual kitchen floor this evening, before this coat, and DH followed me around kitchen, carrying vacuum cleaner. Did not want wheels to mar delicate floor before protective layers are placed.
Darling Grandbaby in NYC is much, much better. Thank you, God, we give you all the glory.
My first actual paid free-lance article for local paper runs tomorrow. How cool is this -- that you can actually get paid for writing?? Next thing you know, they'll pay me to breathe. Goes to show you can be 50 and finally do what you're meant to do, all along. I love, love, love, the whole process and am totally in a state of perpetual disbelief that it has all happened so easily.
Visited the site today for the prospective park. Sat on the hill and let the dog run. Listened to the neighborhood sounds. Local church playing chimes. One lone cricket singing. Distant weedeater. Very peaceful. This is the life. I just don't know how on earth to be appreciative enough....
Refinishing of kitchen floor is ongoing this week so we are OUT of the kitchen. Refrigerator is in hallway -- walk through sideways. Calling out for dinner every night is not as much fun as I had imagined. Suddenly I like my own food. The floor is looking lovely (on the few occasions I'm allowed to peek in) and Dear Husband has worked himself silly getting it all done. We have vacuumed and vacuumed, the whole house, to ensure that not a speck of dust gets trapped in the varnish. Vacuumed the actual kitchen floor this evening, before this coat, and DH followed me around kitchen, carrying vacuum cleaner. Did not want wheels to mar delicate floor before protective layers are placed.
Darling Grandbaby in NYC is much, much better. Thank you, God, we give you all the glory.
My first actual paid free-lance article for local paper runs tomorrow. How cool is this -- that you can actually get paid for writing?? Next thing you know, they'll pay me to breathe. Goes to show you can be 50 and finally do what you're meant to do, all along. I love, love, love, the whole process and am totally in a state of perpetual disbelief that it has all happened so easily.
Visited the site today for the prospective park. Sat on the hill and let the dog run. Listened to the neighborhood sounds. Local church playing chimes. One lone cricket singing. Distant weedeater. Very peaceful. This is the life. I just don't know how on earth to be appreciative enough....
Sunday, June 12
Little One is Away
We returned home from NYC with an uneventful, but long, Amtrak ride. Little One glows when asked about the trip. On our last evening, we went to Columbus Circle and rode the horse-drawn carriage. When asked about her favorite part of NYC, she always says, "The subway."
We had one week to recuperate and pack for this week, her Week with Mother. You see, I am the Nana and Dear Husband is the Papaw. For reasons too long and emotional to share here, we are raising our Little One.
Today I put her on a plane to the Midwest to visit her Mom for one week. Cried a little, but not as much as I had feared. Returned to an *empty* home to find an E-greeting in our e-mail.
"Dear Nana and Papaw, Have fun and don't be too sad while I am gone. Love, Me."
who can ask for more?
We had one week to recuperate and pack for this week, her Week with Mother. You see, I am the Nana and Dear Husband is the Papaw. For reasons too long and emotional to share here, we are raising our Little One.
Today I put her on a plane to the Midwest to visit her Mom for one week. Cried a little, but not as much as I had feared. Returned to an *empty* home to find an E-greeting in our e-mail.
"Dear Nana and Papaw, Have fun and don't be too sad while I am gone. Love, Me."
who can ask for more?
Thursday, June 2
Last Day in NY
Tomorrow we awaken at, ahem, Eldest Son called it, "Butt-thirty," and I must say I agree. We board Amtrak homeward at 7:15 -- that's am, folks. So today we go for it.
It's noon and Little One is resting as we had a long trip and day/night visiting Eldest Son. It was a great visit, I hasten to say, but a little tiring, and when Little One actually asks for a nap, I must listen.
In a half-hour or so, we venture to 180th to the post office I found online; we need to mail our post cards before we return! We will, however, beat them home. Then up to 181 to board Bus #3 to the NY Public Library. Been there three times and still not gotten inside. I don't understand their days/hours.
Then to Times Square to find a silk tie from a street vendor for Dear Husband, uptown, east, for Metropolitan Museum. Across Central Park for Lincoln Center. Stop at Columbus Circle for a buggy ride. Expensive, but I am feeling guilty at not having gotten her to see The Lion King.
Yesterday. Yesterday was a day to remember. Getting to know DIL and DGB -- you can't put a price on that. We took the ferry over to Staten Island. Saw Statue of Liberty from afar, took pics. Strangest thing. You can't go see Statue then ferry on over to Staten Island, even though you're already halfway there. You have to go back to Manhatten and start over.
We did normal home crap, ordered pizza in, figured out DIL's new sewing machine, watched videos. It got so late we could only sleep there, too late to return to apt. Awoke early this am and took ferry back over with Elder Son. Valuable time; we did not have any earth-shattering discoveries, but basic, normal, talking time, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. Life is fragile. When you see someone you love so infrequently, you gotta savor every second. Anything can happen.
Yesterday was also a day of many strangers coming into our lives. Early on the subway, we had 2 ladies in front of us with their elderly mother in a wheelchair. Mother was apparently in poor health; she was wearing a coat, mittens, toboggan, and scarf. On June first. The sisters had a -- well -- not a heated discussion, it didn't appear to be an argument, more of a debate -- and they were speaking with conviction, and appeared to have differing viewpoints. I couldn't pick up enough to gather what they were discussing. Finally the one who tended to Mother the most, pulled a tattered New Testament from her pocket and read from it, smiling. Thank you, God, for reminding us that You are everywhere. Sometimes we forget.
At lunch, we were in a crowded lunchroom eating our sushi when an Indian woman, that is, a woman born in India, perched at the edge of our table to eat her food. Little One said, "You don't have to be on the edge like that -- please, join us." The woman smiled and joined us. Shared her story with us. It's too long for here but it was cool how Little One reaches out even in strange surroundings.
Well. 12:30 and she is sleeping hard. Maybe we won't go 'grab NYC' til 1.
It's noon and Little One is resting as we had a long trip and day/night visiting Eldest Son. It was a great visit, I hasten to say, but a little tiring, and when Little One actually asks for a nap, I must listen.
In a half-hour or so, we venture to 180th to the post office I found online; we need to mail our post cards before we return! We will, however, beat them home. Then up to 181 to board Bus #3 to the NY Public Library. Been there three times and still not gotten inside. I don't understand their days/hours.
Then to Times Square to find a silk tie from a street vendor for Dear Husband, uptown, east, for Metropolitan Museum. Across Central Park for Lincoln Center. Stop at Columbus Circle for a buggy ride. Expensive, but I am feeling guilty at not having gotten her to see The Lion King.
Yesterday. Yesterday was a day to remember. Getting to know DIL and DGB -- you can't put a price on that. We took the ferry over to Staten Island. Saw Statue of Liberty from afar, took pics. Strangest thing. You can't go see Statue then ferry on over to Staten Island, even though you're already halfway there. You have to go back to Manhatten and start over.
We did normal home crap, ordered pizza in, figured out DIL's new sewing machine, watched videos. It got so late we could only sleep there, too late to return to apt. Awoke early this am and took ferry back over with Elder Son. Valuable time; we did not have any earth-shattering discoveries, but basic, normal, talking time, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. Life is fragile. When you see someone you love so infrequently, you gotta savor every second. Anything can happen.
Yesterday was also a day of many strangers coming into our lives. Early on the subway, we had 2 ladies in front of us with their elderly mother in a wheelchair. Mother was apparently in poor health; she was wearing a coat, mittens, toboggan, and scarf. On June first. The sisters had a -- well -- not a heated discussion, it didn't appear to be an argument, more of a debate -- and they were speaking with conviction, and appeared to have differing viewpoints. I couldn't pick up enough to gather what they were discussing. Finally the one who tended to Mother the most, pulled a tattered New Testament from her pocket and read from it, smiling. Thank you, God, for reminding us that You are everywhere. Sometimes we forget.
At lunch, we were in a crowded lunchroom eating our sushi when an Indian woman, that is, a woman born in India, perched at the edge of our table to eat her food. Little One said, "You don't have to be on the edge like that -- please, join us." The woman smiled and joined us. Shared her story with us. It's too long for here but it was cool how Little One reaches out even in strange surroundings.
Well. 12:30 and she is sleeping hard. Maybe we won't go 'grab NYC' til 1.
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