Hello from my little slice of Lewiston, Maine!
So... today’s fascinating installment of “Letters from an American” by Heather Cox Richardson reminded me it’s April 9th, the day Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox.
Two things she didn’t say about that morning back in 1865: It was Palm Sunday, and the Civil War didn’t end.
Lincoln was shot later that week, on Good Friday. Jefferson Davis continued to lead a Confederate government for another month or so. Other Southern armies tapped out in spurts throughout the year.
The War didn’t officially “end” until 1866.
It was replaced in the South by Lost Cause mythology, voter suppression, the Klan. And it was replaced in the North with Easter Resurrection mythology — a Palm Sunday victory, a Good Friday assassination, Lincoln as our savior — which helps us think the job is done, the struggle for equity complete.
And yet here we are a century and a half later, facing down a host of new election laws fashioned after Jim Crow. Arguing as a nation whether it’s okay to kneel on the neck of a citizen begging to breathe.
That war didn’t end.
Countless Americans have had to keep fighting it in their REAL lives, while the rest of us are carried more easily on the momentum of one or another myth.
Last year I wrote a song about trying to disentangle ourselves from those myths. It’s about Marian Anderson. World-renowned Contralto singer. Black American.
One Sunday in 1939 she stood at the intersection of it all, in our nation’s capital, on the border between North and South. She’d been barred from performing at Constitution Hall.
“White Performers Only.”
So she raised hell. She raised her voice. And with the help of Eleanor Roosevelt and the NAACP, sang an open-air concert on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.
It was April 9th.
It was Easter Sunday.
75,000 people were there.
Millions more listening at home.
She began with these words cutting through the air and airwaves….
My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing.
Marian went on to receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the Congressional Gold Medal, the National Medal of Arts, and a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award. She sang at multiple inaugurations. She won more awards and honors. She died in Portland, Oregon at the age of 96.
She fought and sang because the job wasn’t finished at Appomattox.
The job still isn’t done.
The war isn’t over.
———
Here are the lyrics to that song I wrote. Sorry there’s no recording of it yet. Today seemed like the day to at least share the words. I invite you to invent your own melody as you sing your way through them.
———
"Sunday is a Sunday"
The Jews of Jerusalem
Laid palms at Jesus' feet
And the Army of Virginia
Laid their arms down in defeat…
A Sunday’s a Sunday
A belief is just belief
The hardest part of waking from a dream
Is holding on to what you think it means
In the damp of Appomattox
Those lines of Union blue
All saluted Bobby Lee
Like Lincoln said to do
A brother’s a brother
I don’t know if that’s true
But Christ he cried forgive them when he spoke
With the wolf fangs of the world around his throat
*
Easter 1939
Marian’s a star
But “only white performers”
Or so says the D.A.R.
And Thomas doubted Jesus
Until he saw the scars
The hardest part of waking from a dream
Is holding on to what you think it means
Marian, she was banned
From Constitution Hall
So she stood up on the marble steps
To belt across the Mall
And listening on the radio
A million, maybe more
Something 'bout a country 'tis of thee
Still wondering how to set its people free
*
Mary Todd and Abraham
Laughing at a play
After four unending years
Since the Slave States broke away
Good Friday is a Friday
A day is just a day
Who can tell the forest for the trees
When both of them are rustling in the breeze
The doormen knew the actor
They let him through the door
He waited for the punchline
That always made the people roar
And now forever after
As it was before
The hardest part of waking from a dream
Is holding on to what you think it means
*
In the damp of Appomattox
In that cross upon a hill
Mine eyes have seen the glory
And they’re waiting for it still
But Marian Anderson
By sheer force of will
Her voice cut us like the coming of the lord
Equal parts forgiveness and the sword
—————
I hope you're well today and getting your shots like a good puppy (I got mine yesterday).
Be warm, keep cool, stay kind.
- Chris
