Free at last, free at last…

Been up to McDonalds for my fitty-four cent (“you look old Mister, here, here’s the Senior rate for Java”) neverending cuppa coffee, the Sunday paper - and people-watching.

Driving home - a Golden Retriever, free of all worries, free of chain link fence, free of leash - was runnin’ with the wind across the grounds of the local elementary school near my home. Dammit, I think I even witnessed a smile across his face. I did, I really did. Now we all know this sudden freedom won’t last long - a car, an Animal Control Officer, a caring nearby resident, or - frantic searching owners will interject. Nonetheless, it’s the point. Free at last, free at last.

My mother’s 86 year old cousin. A heart-tugging ‘victim’ of her 2,500 square foot ‘forever’ home. Some battles with equilibrium landed her (temporarily) in the hospital - followed by a shorterm stay in a nursing home. Thank goodness there was improvement - she was able to go home… and alongside this she came to the frank realization - I can’t do 2,500 square feet again. She happily moved into her own apartment at an assisted living facility (desk help there 24/7 should she need, should she not answer phone - they can get to her in a moment’s notice.) She has an exercise area, arranged meals with others who can talk the Depression, WWII, Stan Musial and the like. Her own area to garden as she pleases, a wonderful studio apartment. A bright, nifty place. With certain pulls to the heartstrings of giving up her forever home - she’s free at last, free at last.

I remember as a child going to the Courthouse to use the restroom in Fulton, Missouri in the late 50’s, early 60’s. As an eight/nine year old - I didn’t understand the four restrooms. White women, Colored women, White men, Colored men. As an eleven year old, I never understood how my hometown football coach could have the quarterback handoff the ball to the most fleetfooted (happened to be black) tailback you’d ever seen - and then the coach (who also owned the local swimming pool, wouldn’t allow the tailback to swim in his pool the following summer.

Martin Luther King had a dream. In an August 1963 speech from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial - led to Lyndon Johnson’s July, 1964 signing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 outlawing segregation in the U.S. schools and public places.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual:
Free at last! Free at last!
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!³

Free at last. The Golden’s jaunt. The newfound happiness/relief of my 86 yr old relative. MLK’s speech providing the impetus for that running back to demonstrate his best cannonball off the high dive the following summer. Free at last, free at last.

There is happiness associated with free at last, free at last. There’s a possible chance Maynard and I will have to move - certainly a wanted free at last, free at last good ending/result, but not at this very moment with our specific intent. (Thanks in large part to no emergency fund planning on my own damn part to rescue the now $3200 Hot... Rod.. Lincoln I purchased for $1500 a year ago. VICTOR! You shouldn’t share that! Ahm, whatshername, you don’t have control of that any longer! (Free at last, free at last.)

It’s all good. I’ll (even at fitty-five) run like the wind as the Golden does. I’ll splash the hell outta whatever lifeguard is tending the diving area. I’ll plant my mom’s favorite morning glories in my next gardening area as my 86 yr old relative does. Free at last, free at last. Mebbe bassackwards, but free at last, free at last. Love, Freebird Victurd.