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Woody Norman expresses his opinions on this blog. Many of the posts are written in verse.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Waiting
Waiting
“It is
difficult to accept that politics, like history itself,
Is a
never-ending process in which nothing is ever definitely over.”
Paris, October 27, 1992
At one end of the great
wide spectrum
Some waited for
Godot,
As their saving
welcome
To freedom from
bondage, at minimum a furlough.
This kind of
continual waiting
In bondage one
learns to cope.
But the idea of
Godot is baiting
A falsehood
killing hope.
The opposite end
of the spectrum
Lives a waiting of
another kind.
It is a longing
and vocation that beckons
The practice of
patience in the heart and mind.
Certain types of
waiting have no meaning,
Those of
hopelessness and personal inaction
Plant nothing but
false leaning,
Wishing for some
reversing traction.
The breadth of
life requires understanding,
World, Being, and
History move on their own.
Impatience makes
no mark on their processes,
Patient waiting slowly
tarries, sometimes with a groan.
Rational plans
move forward
Envision Utopia, a
well-documented plan.
Enlightenment
thought notwithstanding,
Incapable of controlling
and to fully understand.
The art of patient
waiting is something to be learned,
Like sowing a seed
and watering the land.
There is nothing that impatience could turn
Life’s processes rapidly
around and as grand.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
1958 School Desegregation in Norfolk City Schools
In an earlier post today I wrote about the passing of Andrew Heidelberg, I wish now to place more detail about the context of that period of history.
Over the years many of my fellow 1962 graduates of Norview High School have kept in touch. Thanks to emails, the Internet and such, communication among us has been fairly easy. Due to this technology those fellow graduates who remained in the Tidewater area throughout their adult lives planned our 50th class reunion. That reunion was well-attended.
Andrew was unable to attend. He was missed and so were many others. In all there were 17 African Americans who entered previously all-white schools in 1958: the three high schools (Granby, Norview, and Maury) and several junior high schools.
From one perspective, the 17 were social test cases. From another point of view, the white students, teachers, and parents were test cases. It was painful for everyone, but for the 17 it was also dangerous. Few knew what might happen, and bad things did happen. Some of the seventeen dropped out and returned to their original schools. Andrew Heidelberg was one of those who stayed.
Though Andrew may have trembled in silent fear, his outward appearance was strong: not defiant, but strong and confident. Quickly he became friends with many. Likewise, many did not hold him in any high regard. These were some of the signs of that era. Many of us 14-year-olds at that time wanted to make good of an unwanted and potentially violent situation.
In 1959 when the closed schools were re-opened by a federal court order, the Norview campus was crowded not only with students but with the press. I, among others, was interviewed by some reporter.Pictures of that day can be viewed on Google Images.
Andrew wrote about his high school experience in a book (see link below). He pursued a successful career as a banker and late in life he began a masters degree program at Old Dominion University. In his book he told of his walk to school and his thoughts while approach the campus in February, He also wrote of his football friends especially on a football game trip to play EC Glass in Lynchburg. His football buddies ate with him in the kitchen of a restaurant because Andrew was not allowed to eat in the public dining area.
History was made that February and Andrew went on to be the engaging personality eliciting the best hopes from his white fellow students. Finally in his senior year he was allowed to play football and became a hero. He was fast. After graduation he played for Norfolk State.
I joined the United States Marine Corps just days after high school graduation. In my final year in the USMC I was stationed at Quantico, Virginia. I was a military musician in the band at Quantico. One day in 1966 there was a college sporting event on base. After playing the national anthem the band marched off the field returning to our barracks. On the march - I was on the left column when I spotted Andrew walking to the athletic field with his NSC teammates. I yelled out his name. He looked into the ranks of the band but could not find his caller.
In 2012 when talking to Andrew on the telephone I asked him if he remembered. A couple of years earlier I had emailed him about the same. He did. I wrote about that moment in my first book (see below).
Andrew Heidelberg, in my opinion, was the face of the history-making Norfolk 17.
Over the years many of my fellow 1962 graduates of Norview High School have kept in touch. Thanks to emails, the Internet and such, communication among us has been fairly easy. Due to this technology those fellow graduates who remained in the Tidewater area throughout their adult lives planned our 50th class reunion. That reunion was well-attended.
Andrew was unable to attend. He was missed and so were many others. In all there were 17 African Americans who entered previously all-white schools in 1958: the three high schools (Granby, Norview, and Maury) and several junior high schools.
From one perspective, the 17 were social test cases. From another point of view, the white students, teachers, and parents were test cases. It was painful for everyone, but for the 17 it was also dangerous. Few knew what might happen, and bad things did happen. Some of the seventeen dropped out and returned to their original schools. Andrew Heidelberg was one of those who stayed.
Though Andrew may have trembled in silent fear, his outward appearance was strong: not defiant, but strong and confident. Quickly he became friends with many. Likewise, many did not hold him in any high regard. These were some of the signs of that era. Many of us 14-year-olds at that time wanted to make good of an unwanted and potentially violent situation.
In 1959 when the closed schools were re-opened by a federal court order, the Norview campus was crowded not only with students but with the press. I, among others, was interviewed by some reporter.Pictures of that day can be viewed on Google Images.
Andrew wrote about his high school experience in a book (see link below). He pursued a successful career as a banker and late in life he began a masters degree program at Old Dominion University. In his book he told of his walk to school and his thoughts while approach the campus in February, He also wrote of his football friends especially on a football game trip to play EC Glass in Lynchburg. His football buddies ate with him in the kitchen of a restaurant because Andrew was not allowed to eat in the public dining area.
History was made that February and Andrew went on to be the engaging personality eliciting the best hopes from his white fellow students. Finally in his senior year he was allowed to play football and became a hero. He was fast. After graduation he played for Norfolk State.
I joined the United States Marine Corps just days after high school graduation. In my final year in the USMC I was stationed at Quantico, Virginia. I was a military musician in the band at Quantico. One day in 1966 there was a college sporting event on base. After playing the national anthem the band marched off the field returning to our barracks. On the march - I was on the left column when I spotted Andrew walking to the athletic field with his NSC teammates. I yelled out his name. He looked into the ranks of the band but could not find his caller.
In 2012 when talking to Andrew on the telephone I asked him if he remembered. A couple of years earlier I had emailed him about the same. He did. I wrote about that moment in my first book (see below).
Andrew Heidelberg, in my opinion, was the face of the history-making Norfolk 17.
Remembering Andrew Heidelberg
Remembering Andrew Heidelberg
Life was quite
different in the year 1958,
Not a century
since the end of the war.
‘Separate but
equal’ had been law of the land,
The 1954 court declared its 1896 decision lore.
Suddenly change
became rapid and real,
And certain states
declined to accept.
The Old Dominion
was one such commonwealth
Closing certain
schools reacting to the ruling dealt.
Instead of us entering Norview High
As a freshman with
the world’s promises ahead,
The governor shut
down all those selected schools,
The start of that
school year appeared dead.
Seven African
American students
Assigned to the
school,
Were thrust into political
spotlight,
Though probably
necessary, an awful and unwanted tool.
Andrew, the six, and
all others near
Were denied their schooling rights that fall.
But the 1958 school
year
Did not stop, but
came to a crawl.
Pad locks and door
blocks
On the school were
fixed,
Because of a
certain way of thinking,
That races could
not mix.
Alternative
schooling took root very fast,
Some churches
acted quickly seen as their task.
The Feds and the
Dominion worked on a solution,
And in February
1959 schools re-opened with no diminution.
It was rough new
day for Andrew and the six,
Walking to school
with some trepidation.
Their hearts beat
fast
With anxiety, yet with
hopeful anticipation.
Not all went
smoothly
The four years of
school,
But successful in
the long,
Would prove the
rule.
Andrew died just
the other day,
After
the Fourth of July
In the year 2015,
A grand old man
with whom many identify.
Rest in Peace,
Andrew.
Sunday, July 5, 2015
A Prophet Without Honor and His Apostolate
A Prophet Without Honor and His Apostolate
He departed from where He
was
With fishermen to His
hometown.
Teaching on the Sabbath was
His cause,
Unexpected amazement by the
crowd to His sound.
Though He not a stranger,
people overwhelmed by His skill,
How did such wisdom come
from His soul?
Only a carpenter, His
miracles brought chills
And offended those who thought Him too bold.
No prophet, He certainly knew,
is honored at home
By neighbors and family in
their unbelief.
He lay His hands on His own
People, to those sick He
brings relief.
He went on to other villages
and about,
Sending His fishermen out by
two
With authority to rout
Impure spirits they knew.
Before their departure
Instructions He gave:
“No bread, no bag, no money,
Enter a house, stay and be
brave.”
“To those who offer no
welcome,
Nor listen with love,
Shake the dust off you feet,
But leave the spirit of
the dove.”
To others the fishermen did preach
To new believers whose lives repent.
Out drove they the demons each,
Anointing sick people, then on to others they went.
Taken from Mark 6:1-13
Saturday, July 4, 2015
Arrogance of Supremacy
Arrogance of Supremacy
Of the branch in itself,
The five were a majority.
To render Caesar’s particular
ruling,
They lacked cosmic
authority.
As a delegated power
From the Creator’s own
hand,
Its power intentionally
limited
To stability in their
land.
But usurpation of the
Eternal’s
Planned breath for
living,
An arrogance coded
journal
Superseded Creation’s
giving.
A rump court at best
With no precedence
basis,
Changed world history
none the less,
Hide on the high bench
iconostasis.
We struggle not against flesh and blood,
But against rulers, powers, and authorities.
And so the dark world spreads like a flood,
When only five constitute a majority.
Friday, July 3, 2015
Fourth of July 2015
Purging for Purity
It’s the year twenty
fifteen
On the Fourth of July,
Revelers holding in
esteem
Their freedom and honorable
defenders who died.
Internal detractors’
Minds distorted about
history,
Giving no thought to many
factors,
Create anti-monuments to
be shrouded in future mystery.
There was a period
Not long ago,
When Bolsheviks deadly
serious,
Forged an ugly human
low.
History was banished,
A new dictionary born,
Making levels of human
classes,
Minor ranks to be
mourned.
In their own
self-righteousness,
Those communists moved
on,
Eliminating history and
people
Not meeting their imposed norm.
Some in this universe
continue to assert
Their disdain for Yahweh’s
Chosen.
In vitriolic rhetoric they
flirt
With destroying their
enemy in a nuclear explosion.
“There was no holocaust”
they insist.
History re-cast, they
urge
The State of the Chosen to vaporize into mist.
“No remembrance, let’s
purge!”
America now on the
tipping point,
She could fall either
way.
Her social structure forced
out of joint,
Dare the chips fall where
they may?
Where are America’s true
thinkers, defenders, and believers?
After Virtue is gone, a disquieting suggestion:
The charlatans and
deceivers
Will gather remaining
pieces and lead by deception.
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