Old Josh: The Funeral (Ozark, Alabama, 1864) [Episode Four]

Old Josh: The Funeral

[Ozark, Alabama, 1864]

Chapter Episode Four 8/2005]

[Josh and Silas: The funeral] Josh stood by the wooden cross in Jordan Cemetery, his cousin, who had wrestled for the Yankees, had come home; Josh and his two sons, Silas and Toby, had traveled to a section of South Carolina known as Richland Country, they wanted Josh to give a sermon. Mr. Hightower, his foreman, agreed to allow this, and wrote a letter, had it notarized stating that these Negroes belonged to him and were not escaping or fleeing, so that anyone in authority would permit them to attend the funeral without delay. .

This part of the country had its share, or should I say, more than its share of superstitions (having lived in the Carolinas, I can attest to that). There were tales of the African terror created by the cane fields and the jungles: their yellow waters, their dams and their slave water. And so Josh found his way to the funeral site.

Interlude

The dialect is, of course, English influenced by the traditions and meanings of the time of the African slaves. I agree that few words stand out, but there is a rhythm and I am tired of duplicating it. It is a peculiar sound with meaning. This is/was once pure black, not a dialect of the coast, or the Black Frontier, but a distinct product of the soil, the race, the environment, their world. It is an English adapted to the needs of its speakers.

In those days, many of the blacks were little hybrids, blacks with white and Indian blood, or as we say now, part of their gene pool. Now back to the story.

The funeral:

Says Josh, standing by his cousin’s grave, fifty blacks, blacks there with him: family members and old friends:

Josh: Are you his news dad?

Voices: wuh news

Josh: Hey folks, the blue coats are going to win the job!

Silas: pop ‘tanint makes no difference, the two are the same when it’s white folk, free or not.

Toby: Y’all remember what seromon pop?

Josh looking at the crowd, then at his children, especially Silas:

Josh: We live on bacon, cornbread and cabbage…

Silas: pop, dla serman…

Josh: So luh dem wite folk roams… (Everyone starts laughing, but Silas, he just shakes his head.)

Josh: Silas wants us blacks to go to those swamps and live like the locals want…”

A Voices: It’s better not to be in the middle with anyone, that’s what I say

Josh: I see a dog go into the wasp and get lost, and not dying of air makes a lot of sense as a losing man. I tell my boys to bring them to their senses with a stick. (Josh now moves, waving his staff in the air, skyward, as if he were Moses.)

Well none is er dem wite folk–da religious gray guh hep dem.

Silas: Pappy, I’m not going to mislead you on everything you say; Now give the sermon.

(Josh clears his throat, looks at the son, smiles, pats him on the shoulder, looks up at the sky…)

Josh: I know I’m not thinking about any love, er God, when I’m broken, so forgive me, but my bones are as white as my boss’s, MR. Hightower, he can’t see you, and don’t lecture me folks:

‘Our brother is gone, he is dead, lives at rest, arms of glory, breathes Jesus, free from this world below, asleep in the old graveyard and listens to the sound birds… ol brother Jordan – look down with pity, of us old friends, smile, free from this world below… he sleeps underground for the soul that flies from the arms of the savior, my brother and sisters, we are here today to meddle cries, his life is full of problems and hardships He was suffering to free us blacks, he left, he gave Jordon’s body, stiff and fresh, life ended… he now at the gates of heaven in ‘and his body life for us weepers and mourners of song singers.

–Most of the blacks were barefoot, people with sacks of cotton and sacks of broken flour. Some umbrellas by his side, some mules tied to a tree. Some grumpy faces. The tombstone was plain; just a flat stone with his name, and his name carved on it: a date and the date carved on it–: showing his birth and death [1803-1864]; that was it. On earth she left. It was a bit damp, and Josh’s rheumatism was acting up, his hands were heavy, difficult to lift; he limped along with his children leaving the cemetery, using a stick as a cane. Then three men picked up shovels–