Log in
Register
Search
Search titles only
By:
Search titles only
By:
Forums
New posts
Forum list
Search forums
Leaderboards
Games
Our Blog
Blogs
New entries
New comments
Blog list
Search blogs
Credits
Transactions
Shop
Blessings: ✟0.00
Tickets
Open new ticket
Watched
Donate
Log in
Register
Search
Search titles only
By:
Search titles only
By:
More options
Toggle width
Share this page
Share this page
Share
Reddit
Pinterest
Tumblr
WhatsApp
Email
Share
Link
Menu
Install the app
Install
Forums
Leisure and Society
Society
History & Genealogy
Birmingham, Alabama, 1963
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Salsa_1960" data-source="post: 1452368" data-attributes="member: 16551"><p>This is a poem I remember first reading when I was in college, but it is more than literature. It is also history. It is based on an historical event-- the 1963 bombing of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s church, the Sixteenth Avenue Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, by white terrorists. Four young girls died in the bombing. </p><p style="margin-left: 20px"><span style="font-size: 12px"><strong><u>Ballad of Birmingham</u></strong></span></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">~by Dudley Randall~</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Mother dear, may I go downtown</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Instead of out to play,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">And march the streets of Birmingham</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">In a Freedom March today? </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">No, baby, no, you may not go,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">For the dogs are fierce and wild,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">And clubs and hoses, guns and jails</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Aren't good for a little child. </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">But, mother, I won't be alone.</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Other children will go with me,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">And march the streets of Birmingham</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">To make our country free. </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">No, baby, no, you may not go,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">For I fear those guns will fire.</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">But you may go to church instead</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">And sing in the children's choir. </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">And bathed rose petal sweet,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">And drawn white gloves on her small brown hands,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">And white shoes on her feet. </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">The mother smiled to know her child</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Was in the sacred place,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">But that smile was the last smile</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">To come upon her face. </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">For when she heard the explosion,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Her eyes grew wet and wild.</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">She raced through the streets of Birmingham</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Calling for her child. </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">She clawed through bits of glass and brick,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">Then lifted out a shoe.</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">O, here's the shoe my baby wore,</p> <p style="margin-left: 20px">But, baby, where are you? </p> <p style="margin-left: 20px"></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Salsa_1960, post: 1452368, member: 16551"] This is a poem I remember first reading when I was in college, but it is more than literature. It is also history. It is based on an historical event-- the 1963 bombing of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s church, the Sixteenth Avenue Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, by white terrorists. Four young girls died in the bombing. [indent][size=3][b][u]Ballad of Birmingham[/u][/b][/size] ~by Dudley Randall~ [/indent][indent]Mother dear, may I go downtown Instead of out to play, And march the streets of Birmingham In a Freedom March today? No, baby, no, you may not go, For the dogs are fierce and wild, And clubs and hoses, guns and jails Aren't good for a little child. But, mother, I won't be alone. Other children will go with me, And march the streets of Birmingham To make our country free. No, baby, no, you may not go, For I fear those guns will fire. But you may go to church instead And sing in the children's choir. She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair, And bathed rose petal sweet, And drawn white gloves on her small brown hands, And white shoes on her feet. The mother smiled to know her child Was in the sacred place, But that smile was the last smile To come upon her face. For when she heard the explosion, Her eyes grew wet and wild. She raced through the streets of Birmingham Calling for her child. She clawed through bits of glass and brick, Then lifted out a shoe. O, here's the shoe my baby wore, But, baby, where are you? [/indent] [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Forums
Leisure and Society
Society
History & Genealogy
Birmingham, Alabama, 1963
Top
Bottom