We had a splendid weekend spending time with our friend Fiona, who is visiting all the way from Edinburgh, Scotland. Our time included an overnight in Champaign, Ill., where we joined friends to see Mavis Staples, who is carrying on the Staples Singers tradition with a joyous, infectious energy.
Our visiting friend got a crash course in the volatility of Midwestern weather as we drove home on Saturday afternoon. Vicious cross-gusts left overturned semis scattered in both directions and brought us to an hour-long dead stop on I-57. As we arrived in Chicago, there was blizzardy snow. And then, a couple hours later, sunshine, and then on Sunday, 60 degrees. Fiona has been a good sport.
First Church of Deliverance.
On Sunday morning, I dropped Beth and Fiona off at the First Church of Deliverance on South Wabash in the heart of the historic African American Bronzeville neighborhood. We befriended the choir director there years ago, and he made it clear we were welcome anytime. When we have out of town visitors who want to experience something uniquely Chicago that isn’t the top of a skyscraper or hot dogs, Beth likes to take them there.
That church is on the National Register of Historic places. Of course, it’s more than that. It’s a center of gravity. Beth has sought out these places wherever we’ve lived. There’s nothing like them. I’m not religious, but the power of righteousness is the power of righteousness, and when the gospel choir sings, it penetrates the soul. You float.
Bronzeville is still proud — there are magnificent historic stone homes as well as charming clapboards, and there are signs of renaissance. On the drive there, though, we were struck by the condition of the roads — bad. Just a million signs of benign neglect of public infrastructure, neglect, a history of housing segregation, local governmental ineptitude and corruption. And of course, of our collective messed up history.
As I pulled up to the curb, a well-dressed gentleman approached the car and greeted us. He escorted Beth and Fiona into the church, and I drove off. When Beth and Fiona returned, they talked of the typical experience at First Deliverance: Gracious, friendly, and welcoming to all comers. They also said that the sidewalk they took to catch the 29 bus home was so jagged it was hard to navigate. Good sidewalks, roads, enforcing care of abandoned lots, sound public schools — that’s basic stuff that everyone should expect from local government everywhere. Apart from the physical value, it says that the broader community and government cares enough to bother.
A clip from MLK’s last speech.
Yesterday was also the anniversary of Martin Luther King’s last speech — the “I’ve been to the mountaintop” one in which he seemed resigned to his imminent death.
That came soon enough, 48 years ago today. That speech is worth reading or listening to. I hope you will.
In the middle of an especially nutzoid presidential campaign it’s easy to get caught up in talk of top-down solutions. To be sure, what leaders do at that level matters. But perhaps it’s more about us pushing a boulder up a hill — which is exactly what Martin Luther King, Jr. was doing. He was there in Memphis, after all, to support striking garbage workers. Real change starts from the bottom up. The “leaders” will eventually follow if we make them.
Beautiful, Mike.
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