roger bevins iii
But (we stopped ourselves short) was this not just wishful thinking? Weren’t we, in order to enable ourselves to go on, positing from our boy a blessing we could not possibly verify?
Yes.
Yes we were.
hans vollman
But we must do so, and believe it, or else we were ruined.
roger bevins iii
And we must not be ruined.
hans vollman
But must go on.
roger bevins iii
We saw all of this in the instant it took Mr. Lincoln to pass through us.
hans vollman
And then he was out the door, and into the night.
roger bevins iii
XCV.
We black folks had not gone into the church with the others.
Our experience having been that white people are not especially fond of having us in their churches. Unless it is to hold a baby, or prop up or hand-fan some old one.
Then here came that tall white man out the door, right at me.
I held my ground as he passed through and got something along the lines of I will go on, I will. With God’s help. Though it seems killing must go hard against the will of God. Where might God stand on this. He has shown us. He could stop it. But has not. We must see God not as a Him (some linear rewarding fellow) but an IT, a great beast beyond our understanding, who wants something from us, and we must give it, and all we may control is the spirit in which we give it and the ultimate end which the giving serves. What end does IT wish served? I do not know. What IT wants, it seems, for now, is blood, more blood, and to alter things from what they are, to what IT wills they should be. But what that new state is, I do not know, and patiently wait to learn, even as those three thousand fallen stare foul-eyed at me, working dead hands anxiously, asking, What end might this thing yet attain, that will make our terrible sacrifice worthwh— Then he was through me and I was glad.
Near the front gate stood Mr. Havens, square in that white man’s path, as I had been, but doing, then, something I had not the nerve (nor desire) to do.
mrs. francis hodge
XCVI.
I don’t know what came over me. Never, in that previous place, had I been a rash person. What need had I to be? Mr. Conner, and his good wife, and all of their children and grandchildren were like family to me. Never was I separated from my own wife or children. We ate well, were never beaten. They had given us a small but attractive yellow cottage. It was a happy arrangement, all things considered.
So I don’t know what came over me.
As that gentleman passed through, I felt a kinship.
And decided to stay a bit.