Hurt


The hurt's gone but not the memory.

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  Speech Written by Daughter of Tenant Farmer Let's begin here. Spring 1927. The young woman is a junior, probably rising senior. Her subject:  Her speech. I invite you to read the photographs of the written remarks. I am including some paraphrasing mostly as a way of getting the student's intent recognised publicly. I think that is what she would want. It is a privilege I speak to you on a subject of universal concern I am certain that everybody is in favor of good education Our system has made progress but education is still feeble because of inadequate funding. Alabama is a wealthy state. It can afford to better support education. Education is a state responsibility because we are a democracy and in a democracy the people should be educated Our writer notes that Alabama is ahead of other states in terms of laws and regulations regarding public education. But other states are far ahead in terms of financing education.  More to follow....
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Tenant Farming

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Tenant Farming I was reminded of my mother's family's background this weekend when we visited the Southern Tenant Farmers Union Museum in Tyronza Arkansas. They, the family of Will and Jessie Daffron, moved about central and northern Alabama farming lands as they went. They had no union. They often struggled and they moved regularly.  I wish they had had a union. They had the close-knit family, but I mean something more than that. Such as  My Granddaddy Daffron wrote all his life. Here is something that has come down to me in typescript (one of the daughters began typing up Granddaddy's "poems" years later and unless somebody else in the family has the original handwritten copy then I am afraid it has disappeared.)  I will date it to 1934 because of the reference to the Bankhead law.  And by the way, "dope" was a term that Granddaddy used for "medicine".   The Hayseeder’s Lament By Will Daffron, Millport Alabama What do you think  About the gin
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THIS IS WHAT MY FATHER SAID OF DYING

  My father, Julius Page Allen, was a man of few words. Maybe as a consequence, I remember many of the things that he said.  He said to me one day, "I just want to wake up dead."  That is a marvelous attitude, thinking on arrival at that moment without thinking about suffering or guilt or any of the other things that often accompany dying.  He had watched many people die. He knew. He knew that dying could come as the conclusion of a long days of suffering and insufferable visits from relatives who check in on you to see if you are dead yet.  As it happens, he woke up on the day of his death. He had a nice breakfast. I think he did a reasonably good job of running a Norelco around his chin. "I'm ready for a nap." He liked a good nap and took one as often as he could.  At any rate, he lay down. I hope he went to sleep. He did not get up. 
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