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FREEDOM

At all costs, In all yards, For all of us…

By MaSuPublished 2 years ago 5 min read
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All of them came home a little different than when they left, mentally.

Yesterday my friend who is totally visually impaired called me as he does every week to set our manicure-pedicure day and chat about the state of things. We were contemplating going to the Atlanta Jazz Festival held in the middle of the city at Piedmont Park the entire weekend. Tho his other senses are on high alert in crowds; not that he can’t and won’t, he’s just more comfortable navigating crowds with a seeing friend. That’s how he met me, navigating his way to the House In The Park festival at Grant Park about 10 years ago.

Trains I do, but the Marta Bus System back then needed a Fairy Godfather and a overhaul. I sat in the second seat at the front of the bus feeling lost as a mosquito in a Zapper. This kid with a red-tipped white cane cheerfully asked the driver if he was on the right bus to go to the largest House Party in the South. The driver’s response was a good as a can of paint. (I always wanted to insert that phrase in a story 😁)

I looked at the driver that probably was grumpy because he missed his Weight Watchers meeting because he had to run an extra route ‘cause Johnarella was late again because her hairdresser ran out of pink hair and had to stop on the way to get it and the #10 bus was late again! (Yep that was one-long intrusive sentence!)

I told the kid that was at the bottom of the steps, “Yes, this is the bus. I’m going there too.”

He climbed on, said hello to everyone and sat in the first seat next to me. He asked me if I could help him get to the main stage because he was a Conga and Bongo player and his drums were being brought by a friend. Well, I’d never experienced this world-wide House party so why not escort my way to the VIP section?

Oh! Sorry I was telling you about the Atlanta Jazz Festival that’s going on this weekend. The main reason I started to go was for my Dad. Every year I took pictures of Chic Corea, Carlos Santana, India Arie (when she was barely unknown) each day of the weekend just to send to Daddy to let him know I could appreciate what he called the “real music” that he loved.

But on the Saturday before I made my way to the park, I would involuntarily have to stop on just about every sidewalk and watch the parades that stopped traffic and paused the city to honor the Veterans that fought in wars and political conflicts for Freedom. I did it out of respect mainly because my family had served, fought and all came home physically as they had left. I did it for Daddy.

They fought at all costs… even at the expense of their sanity.

All of them came home a little different than when they left, mentally. What they saw in battle, what they experienced in the countries where they stationed and the people they befriended while waiting on war and peace changed all of them. So my Dad held on to his sanity thru Jazz.

In all yards…but our own.

Before my Dad passed away in 2005, he wanted me to understand how lucky the United States was, because since the Civil War, a war has not touched American soil. (No, the war on drugs was not a real war. Except maybe for two minority communities I need not state but we all know who.) He believed that when war came to our yard, to our own door; life would be forever changed. Dad was right, tho he didn’t live to see the Covid-19 Global Plandemic reset.

The Fight for Freedom is for all of us.

We don’t have to whisper behind their backs anymore, we can Google them; or whatever it is we want to know. We don’t have to face and fight our demons, we can just change our hair, clothes and gender; Tik Tok with filters is the “act” of choice tho. We can sing, dance, gamble, Game, Ball or write our way out of our mess, fear, dilemma or wars.

Freedom is the perfect memory of our History.

1619 - White Lion, (1st Slave Ship to US) Hampton Virginia

1921 - Tulsa Race Massacre, (fire) Tulsa Oklahoma

1954 - Dexter Ave Baptist Church, (bomb) Montgomery AL

1996 - Centennial Olympic Park, (bomb) Atlanta Georgia

2001 - World Trade Center, (domestic attack) New York NY

2013 - Boston Marathon (bomb) Boston Massachusetts

2017 - Route 91 Harvest Music Festival- Las Vegas Nevada

2020 - Covid-19 Global Plandemic (financial reset) Entire Planet

2021 - Attack on the US Capitol (domestic attack) Washington DC

I won’t and can’t regurgitate the names of all my family and friends that have served and died for political, economic, religious, racial differences. For their individual reasons they chose to stand and fight; I am grateful for your service and sacrifice.

I love writing as did my Mom and Dad. I usually find my pen moves best to Afro Beats, House, Alternative and Chill music. But today I’m writing to Dizzy Gillespie, Sarah Vaughan, Count Basie, Nat King Cole, James Brown and Aretha Franklin. (James and Aretha brought out my revolutionary side, can you hear it?)

Life has changed for all of us, all over the world.

I’m not going to the Atlanta Jazz festival, running the Peachtree Road Race, or attending House in the Park this year. Not because I’m spooked but because I have my first grandchild and want to see him grow, graduate and have children of his own.

I won’t always order from Amazon, sometimes I’ll go in the store to smell the mangos and squeeze the Charmin. I want to see LL Kool J, Mary J Blige and Missy Elliot in concert before they retire and hear in concert Earth, Wind and Fire for the first time. I run a few miles around my neighborhood, cook for and feed the less fortunate… so I’m good as a pig basking in slop the day after the 4th of July.

My visually impaired friend Said he’d go to the Atlanta Jazz Festival and will take some pictures for me.. and Daddy.

humanity
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About the Creator

MaSu

I see life and people at many angles to embrace my creativity and ignite diversity. I write to motivate all of us to step into our greatness so we can boldly build a strong and resilient community that will change our footprint.

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