I just returned from a vacation in Hawaii. More on that in
another blog.
But I had a lot of time to think about the terrible event
that took place in Charleston a few weeks ago.
Charleston is a city I know fairly well, having lived there
for a couple of years and visited it as recently as last April.
It is a city trapped between old and new. Its physical
beauty makes it a wonderful place to visit and much has changed for the better
in its race relations since the sixties when I lived there. But it has been a
slow, gradual change that is of a kind with the pace of life for many. It is,
in many respects, an island built between the Ashley and Cooper Rivers, and it
lives in a different time zone.
It was brought abruptly awake by the actions of a racist murderer
who betrayed the very core of what should be man’s humanity to man. People who
offered love and support were paid in terror and death, in a location that
should be a sacred place of peace and love.
There is no way to understand this crushing of the shared
bond that is so integral to civilization. We can mourn the loss but it seems we
each lose a piece of ourselves when these incidents occur.
The families of those so directly affected have asked for
forgiveness and love to replace the anger. It is a hard, wonderful, thing for
them to do. And something that is hard for many of us to understand. I know
there is a lot of anger out there. I witnessed some of it myself when I was
criticized on facebook for not wanting the police to tear this heinous individual
apart when he was arrested. It seemed to me, however, that we would be asking
the police to do exactly what we have previously criticized them for doing.
We all react differently to these issues and our world seems
to grow more violent by the day. I am not sure if it is possible to ratchet it
down, but these families have certainly tried to set a good example. I hope
that the civil and societal leadership in Charleston gets the message and works
to bring the city together in a lasting and meaningful way.
I have been working on a new poem about these events and I
include it with this posting.
Here’s hoping for better things in the future.
Glenn K. Currie
Charleston Musings
(copyright 2015 Glenn K. Currie)
The scent of jasmine
and magnolia
Still remind the
visitor
That this is a city
of the old south.
Words are spoken
slowly,
Rolling off the
tongue
Like sweet cocktails,
Buried in ice and
umbrellas.
It was the city of
churches,
Once dominated by its
steeples.
But the skyline is
changing and
There are holes in
the pews
Of this Holy City.
The violence, so
often hidden,
Beneath the hoop
skirts,
Has exploded in the
very place
Where this world
sought peace.
The call,
unimaginable in its grace,
Is for forgiveness
and hope.
But the anger still
rises,
Like the heat off the
Battery.
Tempers are thin.
The Ashleys and the Coopers
Need to encompass
this “Holy City”
With rivers that
merge all the souls.
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