Curtis Johnson | + Follow Poet |
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The Whitworths-F

It was both a complicated and simpler place and time.
Mostly a quiet place tucked away, but not far off the beaten path.
Occasionally, a noisy and sometimes uncivil place, but very little crime.
A place though legally dry, yet illegally wet and filled with moonshine and wine.
A place where peace and freedom were purchased by everyone staying in line.
A place where ‘the few’ ruled, and the masses got further and further behind.

It's no secret that many African Americans in the Deep South decided to desert
To points North, East, and West, to minimize and even avoid the hurt.
You would too if like them, you were kicked around like dust.
Jim Crow built a Social Order nearly impossible to defeat.
There was lots of sowing, and very little to reap.
But in spite of Jim, faith and hope grew deep.
Most lessons learned never came cheap.
Education was key, but ignorance was hard to beat.
People learned to endure the bitter and embrace the sweet.

Corn, cotton, hay, and soybeans ruled the day from rising to setting sun.
People there believed in the Bible, but also cherished their rights of owning a gun.  For us kids, the crickets and lightning bugs on dark nights were great sources of fun, and except for a few bad apples, the people I knew were good and decent ones. The women were strong, kids well mannered, and the men hard working and worn.

The southern social order of the region was well established long before I was born. As I was growing up in the '50s and '60s, my life moved at a very slow pace. In this separate and unequal society, I knew several families in the White race. There was one custom required by all those of us who were blessed with a black face. This Jim Crow custom required that we enter by the back door for any care, cause, or case.

The Jim Crow custom or system was implemented after the Civil War and met its fate after a long season and much civil unrest. You may have never encountered Jim, but some things you might already know. Jim was not a real individual, but rather a caricature designed to berate, distort, and ridicule an entire race of people. He represented a system, behind which stood millions of people within the confines of these brave and free American states. They gave birth to him and upheld him proudly. Jim Crow was used to implement their blood-letting ideas throughout the South.

As if put in place by God to ease the plight and the pain, there was a most memorable home to which I must refer.  In the midst of all the pain and shame, 
the awful and the ugly, there was beauty. These dear ones were as white as all the rest, but they were different in both their demeanor and their deeds.           When in my middle teens, I was hired to mow their lawn once a week. The Social Order was for Blacks to enter the back door of a home that was White.  It’s not that they did not have a door in both front and back, but I well remember mostly being encouraged to enter through their front door.

I left home after high school and never saw them again, but till now I have the most pleasant memory of them. I remember their chickens, hen house, and eggs. I remember their gentleness which even now gives me watery eyes because they were nice to me in a way that was not popular at  the time. I knew them 50 years ago, a man and his wife, both elderly at the time. They did their best to make America work. They were the Whitworths. 

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