BIRDIE
DIES AT 108
She came
to my hometown of Denton, Texas before I was born, and she eventually
attained some degree of notoriety for her longevity. For several
years she got her picture in our local paper for being the oldest
person in our county. When she recently died at 108 her picture not
only appeared once more but there was an extensive writeup as well.
That is because Birdie Washington, a black woman, did more than
simply survive in this troubled world for 108 years, though that is
no mean accomplishment.
When her
story appeared in the paper I decided that I would attend her
funeral, even though I had never met her. I was impressed that while
she outlived her husband and all of her four children she was
survived by 13 grandchildren, 31 great-grandchildren, and 10
great-great grandchildren. I wanted to look in on such a funeral as
that, and I was hopeful of talking to some of them about what they
had learned from her. Besides, we should all attend a black person’s
funeral now and again, for where else will one hear the old spiritual
“Walking Around Heaven All Day.” It does something to
your innards.
I have
visited every black church in Denton and I always found myself the
only white person present, which is of course all right with me,
except that it is a grim reminder of how segregated our society is.
Since Birdie had lived among us for so long I supposed that the
service this time would be integrated, but again, except for a white
woman who had married into a black family, I was the only white
person in the packed church.
Birdie
left us in style, all first class. Not only were there beautiful
flowers, but her small, frail form rested in a pure white stainless
steel casket. As they say, she was put away nice. Back when she
worked as a farm hand for $5.00 a week she could hardly have dreamed
of ever faring so well.
The
reverend pastor spoke briefly, as requested by “the worn out
family,” on the brevity of life. Even Methuselah who lived 969
years, he noted, finally “had to get out of here.” Using
a biblical metaphor in an unusual way, he pointed out that all of us
who live in this world, whether few or many years, will one day hear
the trumpet and will have to “get out of here.” Birdie
Washington, at 108, which he thought was a long time, at last heard
the trumpet. Now she’s “walking around heaven all day.”
I thought
more could have been said about what Birdie’s life says to our
drug-addicted, dope-peddling, crime-ridden, welfare-oriented society,
which was probably well-represented in the assembled mourners. Birdie
lived in a day when the poor had no choice but to work. She arrived
in Denton by train with only one possession of any real value, a big
horse, which she traded in as a down payment on a little home. She
paid the mortgage by picking cotton in the fields that were abundant
in Denton county when she was a young woman. She eventually became a
capitalist, buying property next to her and renting it.
U sing a
wooden box as a cradle for her baby, she would nail it to the trunk
of a tree while she worked in the field and her other children played
beneath the tree. When the baby needed her, the family’s
trained dog would pull it to her in a little wagon. Birdie of course
knew the pain of being black in a white person’s world. She
could not attend the “good” school with little white
girls, nor drink from the same fountain or even go to the same
toilet. She was delighted to play with the white girls’
throw-away dolls. She was an old woman before she ever dared to enter
a white man’s restaurant or call at a white family’s
front door. So she never got much of that kind of thing done. She
grew up with no illusion that she was anything more than a
second-class citizen, “a Negro” (when folk were nice to
her) that hardly counted at all. In her day she was not even “a
black,” and civil rights was not even a dream. She learned to
survive by working for the white folks and otherwise staying out of
their way. She wasn’t interested in handouts. She at last owned
two houses side by side!
Her’s
was a simple philosophy. Work hard, mind your business, and look to
the good Lord. Early on she joined the Church of God in Christ, and
it was at this church that her home going was celebrated. Jesus was
her Lord, the church her larger family, and faith her victory. When I
asked one of her clan what she would remember most about Birdie, the
answer was that she was always kind and generous. Another referred to
the joy in her life. Hard work, kindly deeds, joyous living all add
up to 108 years.
They
say Birdie is now walking around heaven all day. Unlike Denton,
Texas, heaven we may assume is everywhere integrated. Birdie doesn’t
have to call at nobody’s back door no more.—the Editor
_________________________
The
unexamined life is not worth living.—Socrates