Travels with Harrison on 12/21/2020
We two have been traveling and dining companions for over a year now. No trip has ever been the same, even if the place traveling to was driven before. Travels were such on this day as we found ourselves heading to Crisfield, MD. On this day, as are most, we headed first on a trash run. As we depart the house through the garage, I notice numerous tied trash bags and paper bags with recyclables sitting at the base of the slalom course that serves as a ramp for Harrison and his walker. I’ve often wondered why it’s not called a wheeler, as it’s something you wheel along in front of you.
Harrison is forever in amazement with the recently built Round-About which graces the intersections of, Camden, Riverside, Carroll and Mill streets in Salisbury. This section of roadway always leads to conversation about the Netherlands and that countries many roundabouts. Harrison’s father emigrated to the United State from the Netherlands back around the turn of the century. This time last year we were in the Netherlands as well as a host of other countries in the general area. On one day’s trip from Garmisch, Germany to the Netherlands we hit Austria, Switzerland, Lichtenstein and France. Most of that trip while traveling through the Alps was in a snow storm.
Let me get back to our trip to Crisfield. At five miles outside of the city we notice a combination bike and walking trail all paved and running parallel to Rt. 413. With Harrison being eighty eight years young, and me only ten years behind him we pass on parking at the beginning of this trail and choose to drive into town. With age comes common sense.
We drive around town, check out the waterfront and hit a few neighborhoods. There has been a lot of rain the past few months and many properties not usually waterfront, are now so. There is not a whole lot of high ground on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, especially in Crisfield, The Blue Crab Capitol of the world.
There were few restaurants open on this cold dreary day so we settled on a McDonald’s. With a Cheeseburger being my partners favorite meal of choice, how could we go wrong. Well folks, let me tell you, it was not to be a Cheeseburger, no sir, not on this day. A big old sign said “Back by popular demand, The McRib sandwich.”
If you never had one of these, wear a bib, old clothes, get plenty of napkins, wet paper towels and look for a shower near by. There was enough Sweet Baby Ray’s likened sauce on this baby to float a small boat, or at least a Gator. The two of us made a contest out of who would win the sticky finger, shirt, pants contest. Harrison won this contest and yours truly came in a close second. Thank you Lord for the bountiful backpack with wet naps in it. This is something not to order if eating in your vehicle.
We took a circuitous route back to Salisbury while avoiding main roads. I’m forever requested to turn onto a road after I hear “I wonder where that goes?” It was another adventure that would fill a page in the Journal I keep daily, especially my days with Harrison. I would get my buddy home safe, we would give his beloved Sylvia a recount of our day and especially our McRib adventure.
On this date, our last in the infamous 2020, I have only a few pages left to fill in my Journal. I remain vertical, as does my wife and all those close to me. Mask up my readers, be safe and I’ll see you next year.
Happy New Year
I was meaning to get this out on Monday last, as often happens life got in the way. Just a busy week is all, nothing earth shattering. Monday was spent with my eighty-eight year old friend. When he and I get out, his Mrs. gets a chance to get some personal things done. On this day we traveled north to the town of Ellendale, DE and the Bella Terra Nursery. Being on the safe side we dined Take-Out, Chic-Fil-A fit the bill on Monday. With November coming to an end, I spent time on those Bills that seem to come in each month. The Hutch with the new (7 week old now) chicks needed some tending to, and I started to fence in a run for them. Gotta keep those hostile critters out. I got some PT in on my healing L/knee, old meniscus tear had been acting up. Nothing like cold damp Eastern Shore weather to bring out the worse in man and beast. Wednesday was quite important, in American Football the Baltimore Ravens were playing the Pittsburgh Steelers
Pittsburgh Steelers in a game delayed by Covid interference three different times. Saturday night was the annual WYC Boat Parade on the Wicomico River.
So, here I am a week late, but better late than never is what they say. Who are THEY, my eldest child would ask. Someone’s always has to be accountable, enjoy my friends.
We’ve dined, dined again, had eaten deserts and over indulged, now it’s time to slow the bulge.
I was trying Keto for a week or two, Thanksgiving arrived and I was through. I looked at my plate as I walked through the line, mostly Carbs were on that plate of mine.
Stuffing, Mac and Cheese, creamy potatoes and French style beans, there I was fulfilling my dreams. I passed on a drumstick and went with the white, smothered in gravy to smooth down the flight, what was I to experience, later that night?
With Covid around we worried a lot, were we too close, we worried not. The lord gave us warmth of 70 degrees, windows all open and a God given breeze. We ate and rejoiced and there wasn’t a sneeze. Ten days later we’re out of the woods, no one infected with those horrid goods.
Several years ago thirty two places were set, one of our busier Thanksgiving’s yet. With six in the Netherlands stuck in their home, we had no little ones around to roam. Many were missed and thought of with love. For now we are well and trying our best, to remain far apart, from all of the rest.
One holiday down with so many alone, who will have Santa enter their home? For you who read these words I’ll pray, that together again we will feast and play.
Cheers to you my reader friends, Christ was the beginning, not the end.
If you do nothing else, remember the task, in close proximity wear that mask.
The Nursing Notes for Shoo-Fly Pie
After following the recipe to a “T”, this is our final written word.
Line 2 pie pans with pie crust
- 3 cups of flour, 1 cup of Brown Sugar, (may use white) a generous 1/2 cups of shortening ( I split 1/2 Lard – 1/2 Butter) Mix with fingers till it resembles fine crumbs. Reserve 1 cup of crumbs to put on top of pie.
2. To the remaining crumbs add one teaspoon of cinnamon and one teaspoon of nutmeg.
3. Dissolve 1/2 teaspoon of Baking Soda in 1/2 teaspoon of Vinegar.
4. Mix together 1 cup of Dark Molasses with 1 cup of boiling water, add dissolved Baking Soda and Vinegar to Molasses mixture.
5. Add all to crumb mix, mix well, pour batter into lined pie pans.
6. Sprinkle the reserved crumbs evenly over the two pies.
7. Bake in 350 deg oven 30-45 minute until tooth pick comes out clear.
Let cool, eat and enjoy!
Below is a normal Thanksgiving Baking Tabel at the home of the Rooster. With daughter Kathryn supplying the venue, our normal seating chart of 25-53 names will not be reached this year.
Our new peeps arrived on October 20’th, 13 girls and a boy. At this point we have not a clue, which one is the boy, who will be named Gregory Peck? I had that contest back in September, if you recall. Hard to believe I’ve been this tardy since my last Blog Post.
These are a few of the chicks at four weeks of age in their new surroundings. We got a mixed batch of breeds this time so we must wait a bit yet to really know what we got. I’m guessing this will be our 6th flock over the past 17 years. Some years back we lost an entire flock due to the N1A1 Virus. Now we must worry about keeping this flock’s keepers healthy.
Who said, ” Wear your MASK?”
Over the years we have obtained our birds through a variety of sources. Several neighbors have provided a few from time to time, due to predatory birds and animals feasting. Eight birds at one time went to the larder of a local fox, on the same evening nonetheless. Busy little bugger he was, on that night. Our most recent loss was to a Bald Eagle several months ago. We are surrounded by 50 acres of farm land and allow are birds to free range once reaching adulthood. A good Rooster protects his flock quite well. Something circling overhead, crowing prevails and the girls are led under the closes tree. Knowing who provides the feed and snacks, we are like the Pied Piper of Hamelin and they follow us everywhere.
When we purchase from a commercial grower we will use Murray McMurry in Iowa and Meyer in Ohio. We have never been disappointed in either source. It’s a great Hobby and you can not beat a free range egg. This batch came from Meyer in Polk, OH. They were born early of the 19’th, put on a plane in Cleveland and arrived overnight in Baltimore. Somehow, by 1345 hrs, 1:45 PM for those who don’t know the children arrived at our local Post Office in Salisbury, Md. Who says the Post Office is slow? For those who wish to learn more, https://www.backyardchickens.com/ is a great site.
Be safe one and all.
God is the silence of the universe, and man is the cry that gives meaning to that silence.
If that be the case, what of the Rooster, asks this author?
I’m an avid follower of a.word.a.day with Anu Greg, I even throw them a $ or two from time to time. Appropriately, at least as this Rooster is concerned, a recent word this week was cock-horse.
(This site gives sharing permission) Thus, we’re all getting educated.
adverb: Mounted with a leg on each side.
noun: A hobby horse.
From cock (rooster) + horse, perhaps from the strutting of a rooster. Earliest documented use: 1566.
The best-known use of the term is in this nursery rhyme:
Ride a cock-horse to Banbury Cross,
To see a fine lady upon a white horse;
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
And she shall have music wherever she goes.
As in this nursery rhyme, the term is often used in contexts where a child is riding a hobby horse. The use of the term in today’s usage example though is not as innocent as it sounds. We’ll leave it at that.
“‘Do you want to ride a cock-horse today, Johnny?’ she asked.”
Jak. E. Rander; An Eye for an Eye; Xlibris; 2012.
I was surprised no-one wanted a Game Cock, no one out there from South Carolina?
After waiting another week, most likely due to hanging chad, the poor guy must be still dangling somewhere. Oh, and all the interference from China, Russia, and our friends in the Baltics, we have a WINNER.
We only had three choices after the first vote if you remember. The three to choose from were
Back to the Vote we had going.
- Gregory Peck (our winner)
- Kung Pow
- General Tso
I’m guessing a few of those voters did not see the original blog. https://elfidd.com/2020/09/02/this-rooster-needs-a-name/?
Kipper!!! Someone got a Herring issue!
Russell Crow – This Cock does not eat crow.
Rooster Cogburn after the Duke – (Doubt we could find an eye patch for that one.)
Gunny– Best I did was an E-6 Staff Sgt.
Duke– Duke of Earle? #1 song in 1962 https://youtu.be/h6Uht69h8Is
Someone threw in Colonel Sanders, the original passed on some years back, could not resurrect!
Now we say good by to the two losers on the ballot.
Tso, the general is a loser.
Pow, right in the kisser was gone in the first round with a TKO.
About our winner– When Gregory Peck was designated an enemy of the conservative Nixon establishment, it was as much a recognition of his role within the social symbolism of Hollywood films, as a reaction to his personal involvement with liberal causes. If James Stewart, in his work for Frank Capra, nostalgically embodies the populist image of the smalltown good citizen, Peck creates the figure of the decent and fairminded reformer or the fundamentally good man who rises to the moral demands of the occasion. Only rarely have other qualities of Peck’s persona been explored, particularly the resentment and anger which his intensity suggests. It is in these uncharacteristic roles that he has done some of his most interesting as well as some of his worst acting.
Congratulations Gregory Peck, back from the dead and, ready to live and love once more, your going to love these chicks! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gregory_Peck
His leading ladies are to arrive around 22 October. They shall be young’ns and Gregory shall protect them through the growth process.
There will be 12 leading ladies coming via the USPS. They shall be named after leading ladies of the movies. Some of these ladies are named here in: https://bestlifeonline.com/inspiring-leading-ladies-movies/?nab=1&utm_referrer=https%3A%2F%2Fduckduckgo.com%2F
Come back in late October for the arrival of Peckers chicks.
Knowing the politics of these days, we can only hope live chickens can still be sent through the mail.
Is your local box still there? Check early, check often. Ooops, that was supposed to be vote early, vote often. We shall check back on 3 November for that one. “Wow” that’s a week prior to the Marine CorpsBirthday! I vote for Chesty Puller.
Semper Fi theRooster
My being delivered was mentioned previously and names were sought on various venues. Of all the names chosen by my care givers, the Rooster and wife have selected three (3) they could live with. They are;
- Gregory Peck
- General Tso
- Kung Pow
(3) I know, you’re saying Kung Pao was misspelled. Not in this instance however. Mess with me if this turns out to be the name chosen and, POW, right in the kisser!
(2) General Tso, Tso, you wanna mess with me? I will be the leader and the one in charge for the forthcoming flock, I will be charged with to protect. Generally speaking there will be no issues I shall not be able to handle. Generally, get it?
(1) Who in the name of old deceased actors is Gregory Peck? Well Gregory Peck was the the lanky, handsome movie star whose long career included such classics as “Roman Holiday,” “Spellbound” and his Academy Award winner, “To Kill a Mockingbird.” He hung around until age 87. This Rooster likes the sound of longevity.
Gregory Peck is best remembered for his portrayals of honorable men. Whether it was the idealistic lawyer in “To Kill A Mockingbird” or the reporter exposing prejudice in “Gentleman’s Agreement,” Peck was the epitome of quiet courage and moral strength. Yep, that sounds kinda like me. Plus, if I run out of bullets, I can peck your eyes out if you bring mayhem to my flock.
Now just why are you being asked to name a new representative in the flock? Well, for the first time in 17 years, there is no flock. One of our resident Roosters got to go airborne with an American Eagle a few weeks ago. He was the white one in the Rooster’s banner. God rest his soul. We were down to 2 Hens & 1 Rooster and decided to start anew.
Daughter Sarah suggested a “Free to good home” post in the local FB Web Page. She did the post, Slam, Bam, Thank You Mam, countless contacts applied. Before the next day was out, a meet and greet was arranged and those three now reside across the river. In these parts, it’s kinda like the other side of the tracks. Still haven’t figured out if I’m on the Right or Left side, or is it the other side? Damn Politics!
We have settled on Meyer Hatchery as the Birthing mother for twelve (12) baby hens and one (1) Rooster. They are due on 19 October and shall arrive here on the 22’nd of October. We’ve used Meyer in the past and things have always gone well. We also checked with Murry McMurry Hatchery. Unfortunately no birds that we desired would be available until April. We’ve also used that hatchery in the past and they provided good quality birds as well as Meyer’s did.
It seems this Covid thing has increased the want for birds, chickens in particular. Be it eggs or meat, there is a great market at this time.
So, in the mean time, this rifle toting patriotic bird pictured here today shall be in charge. All we need is a name. Please give us your vote in the comments section and what ever you choose we shall be happy to name him according to our readers wishes.
As they say from our nations capitol, “Vote Early & Vote often.”
theRooster says Semper Fi
I present to you, the newest member of the family.
I’m the newest member of the Rooster‘a family. I was born on 8/11/2020. The doctor who delivered me had the initials UPS. I do not know what the initials stand for. The old Rooster wants everyone to submit a name via his Blog, FB, Twitter or Instagram site. The Rooster and the Mrs (an old hen), will then pick 3 names they like and put the name up for a vote. If you’ve taken the time to read this and decide to vote, here’s some personal info. I was hatched in China, I’m made of 100% synthetic fiber, I’m 19 inches tall and my hatchery named me Ranger as I went out the door. I’ve been called fine looking, the leader of the pack, boss of the hens and, I have colorful plumage. I shall strut about the barn-yard crowing. I’ve been called cocky and my claws and beak are very sharp. As we teach all who vote, when it’s time, vote early and vote often. Thanks guys and girls. No Green Card as yet, I’m hoping soon though.
Granddaughter Abigail was married on Saturday past. What was to be a 200 count guest list was cut to 80. We had a split Rehearsal dinner, daughter Kathryn and husband Jeff (Where in the world is Jeff Berthiaume,) hosted half, the Supreme Hen and theRooster hosted half. Rain had been called for that evening and fifty just would not fit in the Rooster’s hutch. The gathering departed at 8:45 PM after a great meal of Burgers and dogs with many sides. The sky opened up with heavy rain @ 9:15 PM, “Phew,” that was close.
The newly weds were to take a cruise out of Florida, thanks to Covid-19 that was not to be. They did get a few days at the beach in Ocean City, MD.
It turns out that my neighbor from the opposite side of the street out here in the country needed some help with his pool yesterday. I’ve had some experience with filters and such, so I was pressed into service.
Just as I was returning from an exercise walk, my phone rings, it’s my neighbor Jim. He explains the dilemma he’s presently having with his pool filter. I’m actually at the mouth of his driveway when I get the call. I tell him I’ll be right over. I walk to my house to check in, the wife is in the midst of fixing a wonderful country breakfast. I let her know the issue Jim is having with his pool, that I’m going to give him a hand and I’ll return in a jiffy, NOT. I get that look, if you’ve been married fifty-five years you know the look.
I walk back across the street and find my neighbor poolside, standing next to the filter outside the pool. He fills me in on what was going on, he can’t seed the guts of the filter properly and is pumping Diatomaceous Earth back in the pool. Jim looks at me and says, ”Linda is going to Kill me,” together for over thirty some years, I’m guessing he knows “that” look also.
I survey the situation, eventually figuring out the flow scheme and how the guts need to fit into a plethora of tubes, few, if any are properly seeded. Jim proceeds to tell me he’s not very mechanical, but if you need your appendix removed he could do that quite successfully. I request a rubber mallet and gently tap all into place. Combined we start to put the lid into place, I proceed to drop one of the wing nuts needed into the bottom of the filter. Once again the entire guts are remove and I go fishing blindly through the murky Diatomaceous earthen waters and retrieve the wing nut.
Slam, Bam, thank you Ma’am, the second try is the Coup de Gras. We check all the connections, hit the start switch and dang if we don’t have clear running water going back into the pool. Jim breaths a sigh of relief, the wrath of Linda shall not come upon him. Jim says thanks, I say “that’s what neighbors do.”
Back home the Mrs, God Bless her, says “two or three pieces of bacon” with my perfectly Butter Scrambled eggs and raspberry spread toast? “Three” I say, and proceed to tell her the pool filter event. All is calm in Dodge.
Fast forward 6 hours and Jim says on Face Book.
OK, so the day started out uneventfully. I was having a problem with my pool filter, no matter what I did the pressure would rise after a couple of hours post back washing. I called my pool service and was told that they don’t do service calls on Saturday. So I called my good friend, next door neighbor, former Marine, retired State Trooper, and all around recognized pool guru.
Linda and I decided to put the leaf net over the pool since the Crepe Myrtles were dropping tons of blossoms into the pool. We couldn’t find any clothesline rope so we decided to use coated wire clothes line rope temporarily to hold the net in place until Monday. All good, right? My wire cutters wouldn’t cut the braided wire very well so Linda suggested using s hatchet to cut the line.
Good idea! But as I was cutting the third length of wire rope I chopped off the tip of my left thumb. Blood flew everywhere and I headed to the house, irrigated the wound for ten minutes, Applied an antibiotic cream, wrapped it with a paper towel, then a second, then a third, and a fourth and still the blood was spewing from the wound. So much for taking daily aspirin. I elevated it above my head to no avail until Linda came into the house, took charge and put a proper bandage on the wound.
Not the best of days, tomorrow I am going to sit in the recliner all day and try not to further damage my body or my psyche. That is all. Hope you had a better day !
I, sometime after Jim’s post, look at the Face Book message Jim posted of the incident, and reply to Jim the following.
You should have called the Marine across the street. Rumor has it he always has a couple hundred feet of Para-Cord on hand, an extremely sharp knife that he knows how to use as well, is always clipped to his pocket. Another rumor I’ve been told is that the knife is so sharp than an Air Force PJ Medic once borrowed the same knife to perform an emergency appendectomy during a remote clandestine military mission.
Obviously this loping off the end of a thumb was not representative of good use of available resources. Lesson learned, when all else fails, call in the Marines. Semper Fi
Just another day in the country!
Last week Umair Hague wrote an article in Medium entitled “How Bad is America’s Coronavirus Surge? Really, Really Bad.” (This is my rain)
Earlier today I was checking on our weather forecast here on Delmarva and stumbled upon, like many of us do, the following. https://www.accuweather.com/en/leisure-recreation/our-top-20-weather-related-songs/655903 If you like weather, especially weather songs, check it out.
Once I got to hear “Have You Ever Seen The Rain,” and I got to thinking, yep, I’ve seen it and I’m now living it. That rain is COVID-19. You see, for those that don’t know, I’m in my late 70’s, and in my golden years. Every day up in the vertical is a Sunny Day! This dang Pandemic thing is just rain on my sunny days.
Just one week prior to my birthday we went into the Lockdown mode. That day was March 19. Part of my every week prior to the Lockdown, I got to spend Mondays and Thursdays for the past four months with a special buddy, his name is Harrison. This man was ten plus years my senior, married to a Bridge, card player, who needed some Her Time. My buddy also liked traveling the Eastern Shore of MD, DE, and VA and needed to get out some himself. Those two letter identifiers, that’s Maryland, Delaware and Virginia for you out of the country readers. That area is also referred to as the DELMARVA PENINSULA. Every day with Harrison was a sunny day.
Pretty much our day got started around nine and ended around four. We would go out for lunch and often would start talking about food shortly after deciding where we would go on that given day. My partner loved history, especially the history of and places available on Delmarva. On occasion we had pre-planned the day. Most often we would decide where to eat while going to get rid of several day’s household trash or going to the local Recycle Bin with the household magazines and newspapers.
We did a lot of pre-planning over our food. Just the planning was a sunny time and it always brought excitement into the future., especially Harrison.
“Have You Ever Seen the Rain?” is a song written by John Fogerty and released as a single in 1971 from the album Pendulum (1970) by roots rock group Creedence Clearwater Revival. The song charted highest in Canada, reaching number 1 on the RPM 100 national singles chart in March 1971. In the U.S., in the same year it peaked at number 8 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart (where it was listed as “Have You Ever Seen the Rain / Hey Tonight”, together with the B-side). On Cash Box pop chart, it peaked at number 3. In the UK, it reached number 36. It was the group’s eighth gold-selling single.
Some have speculated that the song’s lyrics are referencing the Vietnam War, with the “rain” being a metaphor for bombs falling from the sky. In his review for Allmusic website, Mark Deming suggests that the song is about the idealism of the 1960s and about how it faded in the wake of events such as the Altamont Free Concert and the Kent State shootings, and that Fogerty is saying that the same issues of the 1960s still existed in the 1970s but that people were no longer fighting for them. However, Fogerty himself has said in interviews and prior to playing the song in concert that it is about rising tension within CCR and the imminent departure of his brother Tom from the band. In an interview, Fogerty stated that the song was written about the fact that they were on the top of the charts, and had surpassed all of their wildest expectations of fame and fortune. They were rich and famous, but somehow all of the members of the band at the time were depressed and unhappy; thus the line “Have you ever seen the rain, coming down on a sunny day?”. The band split up in October the following year after the release of the album Mardi Gras.
In a literal sense the song describes a sunshower such in the lyric “It’ll rain a sunny day” and the chorus “have you ever seen the rain Comin’ down on a sunny day?”. These events are particularly common in Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama, but less common in other parts of the country, due to localized atmospheric wind shear effects. In Southern regional dialect, there is even a term for it: “the devil beating his wife”.
Just so we can see some light at the end of the tunnel we have
It never Rains in Southern California
This song’s lyrics and vocals are enthusiastic and hopeful. It reminds us that there is a brighter day coming after the rains. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_Never_Rains_in_Southern_California
So my friends out there in the world’s CVovid land, how are you coping? I ask, are you free for the present, soon to be locked down again? Was your 4’th of July parade rained upon? Is your SUNSHINE gone? Will I ever dine with my friend again?
Semper Fi theRooster
Last night we were invited to dinner at our daughter Sarah and son-in-law’ Greg’s home. Grandson Tommy was home from NC for the weekend. Kathryn, Abby, Rachael and pets Cooper & Riley were in attendance. Jeff was on his way to Michigan and Antwaine was working. Low humidity, and a gorgeous sky with no wind made the evening delightful.
Our concentrated discussion centered on Juneteenth. Not one of us prior to the recent events beginning in Minnesota we are all so aware of, had ever heard of Juneteenth.
Oh, the menu you ask. Skirt Steak, fresh caught Tuna and Scallops, Corn on the Cob, (Best ultra sweet, tooth sucking corn I’ve ever tasted,) Asparagus, fresh salad, and it all ended with home made Peach Cobbler by Grannie. Sorry we couldn’t have had you all there. Thanks Sarah and Greg!
Usher Raymond IV is a musician, actor and entrepreneur. He recently submitted this essay to the Washington Post.
At the 2015 Essence Music Festival in New Orleans, I wore a T-shirt that caught a lot of people’s attention. The design was simple. The words “July Fourth” were crossed out and under them, one word was written: “Juneteenth.” I wore the shirt because, for many years, I celebrated the Fourth of July without a true understanding that the date of independence for our people, black people, is actually June 19, 1865: the day that the news of the Emancipation Proclamation finally reached some of the last people in America still held in bondage.
I have no issue with celebrating America’s independence on July 4. For me, wearing the shirt was an opportunity to inform others who may not necessarily know the history of black people in America, and who are not aware that Juneteenth is our authentic day of self-determination. It is ours to honor the legacy of our ancestors, ours to celebrate and ours to remember where we once were as a people. And it should be a national holiday, observed by all Americans.AD
Growing up in Chattanooga, Tenn., I was taught in school one version of U.S. history that frequently excluded the history of my family and my community. The black history I learned came from the “Eyes On the Prize” documentary that aired during Black History Month. That was where I learned about Emmett Till, Rosa Parks and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. When I moved to Atlanta at age 13, I went deeper and discovered more about the movement, the horrors of slavery and the resilience of our people. I came to understand Juneteenth’s history a decade ago during a period of reflection and in pursuit of any ancestral history that would tell me who I am.
The liberation Juneteenth commemorates is cause for celebration, but it also reminds us how equality can be delayed. On June 19, 1865, on the shores of Galveston, Tex., Union Gen. Gordon Granger arrived by boat to announce to enslaved African Americans that the Civil War had ended and they were now free. While President Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation was issued two and a half years prior, and the Civil War had ended in April of that year, it wasn’t until June 19, 1865, that almost all of our ancestors were free. We should honor their lives and celebrate that day of freedom forever.
I cherish the words of Nina Simone. I respect the legacy of Harry Belafonte and the unapologetic blackness of James Brown. I admire the entrepreneurship of Madam C.J. Walker. I have learned from my elders. Their wisdom has taught me to use my voice to support my people, so many of whom are hurting right now. Making sure that our history is told is critical to supporting and sustaining our growth as a people. The least we deserve is to have this essential moment included in the broader American story.
Checking the Calendars
So, today I looked at our active working calendar and there on the date block of June 19, 2020 was the word “JUNETEENTH.” I save calendars, along with my Journals, I can go back to the year 2014. No where on any of these previous years was 19 June designated “JUNETEENTH.”
So I wonder, what History I, we, us, were taught back in the 50 & 60’s?
To wrap up this Juneteenth discussion, have you ever learned about this day in history? What else were we never taught, or were those who came before us not willing to share with us?