I know by now you all are sick of me and my father recent passing. So this will be the last post on my father’s transition……maybe.
It’s been really hectic with here after my father’s recent passing. Things have come together really well with help of family and friends and of course all the well wishers. I want to thank you all for prayers sent this way, they have been felted and well received. With that I would like to re-post a very personal piece for all that didn’t read it the first time and for the new subs that may have missed it. Please enjoy.
I dread sun rise.
Spanish moss hung from trees like the raggedy dress on that old hag from up the line.
The swamp on the other side of the plantation always haunted me. Thick, bottom heavy cypress standing like sentries warned me of the dark places where a little boy could get missing. Many went missing in that swamp.
The midday heat laced the air with what seemed like black strap molasses that stuck to a little boy like an old quilt; dense, heavy and inescapable. Something like ol’ miss’s eyes, she had hate in her–from birth.
Cotton could be seen from one end of the Earth to the other or what was Earth to a little boy. A little boy also knew white meant nothing good, be it soft bolls of cotton or ol’ miss.
As a little boy, I was still in the fields along side grown folks, but I couldn’t work like them. Their lives depended on their work and their lives ended because of their work. I have seen with my two eyes how this work breaks people and makes them nothing more than hell spun cattle. The mind of a little boy could think of nothing but work and punishment. I had lost my before and never knew an after.
On soft, slow half way nights, a little boy would often wonder what kind of god would allow this. Did this god hate Black people also? He had to, look at us. The people still called out to this god that could not see nor hear them. I asked this god that if you could hear me, to please strip this skin off of me so I could breath free air. A little boy driven crazy before he could stand on his own, only wanted to breath free air and if this god couldn’t do that then this little boy would leave him alone. As he had been left alone.
I dread sun rise.
A little boy has not known peace since he first opened his eyes, never knew his mother either. She died with me tied to her back, in that midday heat shortly after giving birth to me. She’d given this world all she had. From that day a little boy’s life was not his, but the highest bidder. He saw his mother treated like a dead mule, kicked to the side so work could continue. That does something to a little boy and it did something to me.
This little boy never knew his father at all. Like most fathers his job was to make as many little boys as he could. Little girls came, but where not wanted as much, just something to play with when they got ripe.
My bones were made out of hate and fear and they fought often. Fear won most of the time as I can tell this story. On most days I was mad enough to chew nails and spit rust, but that meant nothing. Git yo ass back in that field boy!!
As a little boy I picked up on a few things. The others didn’t speak much during daylight, nor did they speak to anyone they suspected. A little boy had stop speaking before he speak good. He gotten all the talk beaten out of him one night for stealing some rotten ham from the dog’s bowl. The dog got some fresh ham to replace what I had choked down.
As a little boy I knew that to stop this world from hurting me was to die. I had seen many people die and they didn’t want for anything after they stopped kicking. Tight ropes didn’t swing anymore and empty stomachs didn’t crave. Tears stop flowing and hardened faces were now soft and full of peace. They weren’t hated and they didn’t hate after that rope was cut. They were put in the ground and a tree planted over top of them. That’s what I wanted for myself, but I was afraid to die because I didn’t know what was after that. Maybe that deaf and blind god would continue to be deaf and blind and let me stay in the cold ground. Much like now.
Moses Mathis, who created a charity that gave thousands of bicycles to needy children in Fayetteville over two decades, died this morning after a long period of poor health.
He was 76.
Ann Mathis, his wife of nearly 46 years, said he died in his sleep at home shortly before 5 a.m.
“He had a peace with him,” she said.
Mrs. Mathis was with her husband at the time, as was a hospice worker.
Mathis had been battling health problems for months and had been confined to medical facilities as he tried to recover his strength. Recently, though, he returned home under hospice care.
Mathis, who served in the Navy and worked at Black & Decker before it closed, became known as “The Bicycle Man” for the Christmastime bicycle giveaway that he orchestrated each year. Mrs. Mathis has headed the charity during her husband’s illness and said it will continue.
Funeral plans have not yet been set.
THE SINGLE BIGGEST INFLUENCE IN MY LIFE HAS LEFT US. HIS NAME IS MOSES MATHIS, THE BICYCLE MAN AND MY FATHER15 Jul
My father left me this morning about 4:00am. I had a chance to see me and talk to him Saturday before I left to come back home. I told him that I loved him and I wanted him to let go so his pain would stop. Just before he died last night my mother had the same conversation and that’s when he finally felt he could start the next leg of his journey.
Right now I feel kick in the head, but I did get my chance to say good-bye and he acknowledged me one last time.
I’m not much into prayer, so I just ask that the Most High receives him and bless him.
HAWTHORNE (CBSLA.com) The group “Anonymous” — self-described “hack-tivists” — have targeted the Hawthorne Police department in response to authorities fatally shooting a man’s dog.
The video of that dog’s shooting has gone viral with more than 4 million hits on YouTube.
CBS2′s Suzie Suh said the cyber threat is being taken seriously and Hawthorne Police are on high alert.
“Anonymous” is known for hacking into — and shutting down — computer networks of major companies like Bank of America and organizations like the Tea Party.
The threat was posted Wednesday and Hawthorne Police immediately called in a computer specialists to work through the holiday.
The threat begins, “Hello fellow citizens of Earth. We are ‘Anonymous.’ Police of Hawthorne, you should know you are our primary target. This matter will not remain unresolved. We are ‘Anonymous.’ We are legion. We do not forgive. We do not forget. Expect us.”
Hawthorne Police Sgt. Joel Romero said that all IT technicians were called in to minimize the threat.
“They are working around the clock to start upgrading and they are working on our information systems and firewall systems,” said Romero.
The FBI and LA County Sheriff’s are both monitoring social media to investigate any threats.
Three detectives involved in the shooting have been reassigned for their protection.
Meanwhile, Hawthorne dispatch has been bombarded with phone calls — including death threats from around the world.
The City of Hawthorne’s website was hacked Monday and it’s been down ever since.
The city is hoping that public outrage over the dog’s shooting will subside over the holiday weekend.
The Police have announced two separate investigations regarding the shooting.