I drew a slow hand

One of my favorite movies is Cool Hand Luke starring Paul Newman.  I so identify with him.  The "system" tried to kill him, emasculate him, but, he fought back.  He lost but he fought back.

That's me.  Can you image a mother so corrupt she stalks you with a vengeance for sixty-two years! ?  A woman that was so demon possessed you still have night terrors and you are old.  "Old" as in ancient.  "Old" as in retired.  "Old" as in missed the fucking boat.  "Old" as in LORD please don't let my breast hang any longer, I can't see my knees!

 I am not sure I will ever go back in a "Church" again.  I sat up in church with this DEMON EVERY SUNDAY for most of my life never knowing or accepting the fact she was the ravenous wolf Jesus was warning us about.

I had to ask myself why, what was the "church" doing?  Taking up money! Money! Money! Money! I remember we used to take up money twice a Sunday.  Once for Sunday school and once for service.  It was always an elaborate affair.  The ushers passed the plates.  Our plates where silver chargers lined with velvet.  We didn't wait at our church.  All the money was counted, the numbers posted.  The Sunday school class that gave the most got the banner.

I always loved the evening collection.  After the plates were passed and the ushers performed a stunning co-eographed dance complete with gloves and matching nurse  shoes,  the money was counted right there in public view.   They used a small wooden table, counted the money out loud, by hand, old fashioned arithmetic, no calulators.   They scratched the numbers into the ledger.  Once the money was counted and announced, the begging began.  It was fascinating.  I enjoyed this part of church more than the "hacking" sermons.  Brother Calvin ********* would always coax us by reminding us that the sum was good but,  not good enough and could we please m'am, please sir, ; "Thanky m'am, thanky sur fuh  fuh fif-tee mo'cents  …can we git fif-tee-mo cents!"

I loved Sundays in Wade, North Carolina on the yard of Wesley Chapel A.M.E.Zion  Church with my grandfather, Jerome Walters.  Sure we stayed in church for hours , hooping and hollering but,  the wait was often worth it.

Fried silver white corn, fried collard greens, fried chicken, fried every thing.  Cakes, and pies.  Laughing,  socializing and loving.  Something went wrong.

"Come ye out from among them."