“Life is an unanswered question, but let’s still believe in the dignity and importance of the question.”
—Tennessee Williams
Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter
“Life is an unanswered question, but let’s still believe in the dignity and importance of the question.”
—Tennessee Williams
Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter
Why has it taken me so long to figure out how to make perfectly peeled hard-boiled eggs
Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter
“The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order in the continuous thread of revelation.”
—Eudora Welty
Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter
“The quietly pacifist peaceful always die to make room for men who shout.”
— Alice Walker
Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter
Two weeks ago, the Mid-South was blanketed first with freezing rain, then with two or three rounds of sleet and snow. Butch Boehm’s photographic record of the
“white-washing” shows just how beautiful, (while sometimes treacherous and deadly) Mother Nature can be.
“If I’m an advocate for anything, it’s to move. As far as you can, as much as you can. Across the ocean, or simply across the river. Walk in someone else’s shoes or at least eat their food. It’s a plus for everybody.”
— Anthony Bourdain
Photo: Deborah Fagan Carpenter
February, Black History Month: A Personal Tribute to Three Mississippi Heroes.
As a boy growing up in Mississippi, I read the “Whites Only” signs posted around town. “Whites” and “Colored” designations painted on water fountains, restroom doors, and waiting rooms decorated our town. Schools, churches, restaurants, and hotels needed no such notices. It was understood: “No Colored Allowed.” “Whites Only” on our side of the tracks.
I was 12, when Bob Moses, Hollis Watkins, and Brenda Travis appealed to our consciences by publicly protesting what was, in Mississippi and throughout the South, “legally right, but morally wrong:” Segregation.
Each of these three Civil Rights heroes, put their lives on the line by taking direct action for voting rights, access to public facilities, and fair and equal status for all Americans in our society. Bob led voter registration drives, Hollis “sat-in” at our Woolworth lunch counter, Brenda “sat-in” at our Greyhound bus station, and led a march on City Hall. Each of the three faced violence and jail sentences. Brenda was exiled from our state.
“Every name-in-the-book” was hurled, or spat, at these three crusaders. Repeatedly, I heard how evil they were. The assessment seemed wrong to me. Fairness seemed right. Courage to stand up against injustice seemed right. Bob, Hollis, and Brenda became my heroes.
As an adult, I am today privileged to know Bob Moses, Hollis Watkins, and Brenda Travis. These are three of the finest, kindness, gentlest, humblest, most caring and genuinely good persons I am blessed to know.
In this, Black History Month, wherein we celebrate African-American contributions to our nation in the fields of science, government, literature, music, athletics, military, politics, and other, I would like to add a word and category.
Thank you, dear black sisters and brothers, for helping us become better people.
J. Randall O’Brien, February 2021
Photo taken at the National Civil Rights Museum: Deborah Fagan Carpenter