Reflections of my Experiences in Natchez Mississippi: May 1965

In the spring of 1965, SNCC sent me to Natchez Mississippi, a Klan stronghold and scene of bombings, beatings and deaths. I dodged bullets, looked down the barrel of a .38, went to jail, registered voters, marched and made friends and sang freedom songs.

Purple green sky shines darkly

Streetlights glitter violence

Raindrops beat gently

Music serenades a slumbering town

Torn and tormented little town

Night cools you as people plan pain

Some crawl some stand tall above the lights

Above the mountains seeking life for all

Tin tanky music chatters across my face

Hot sauce grease turns inside

Soul music caresses my soul

Police cars chill me

Whiteness wears heavy in a glittering blackness

FREEDOM ALL OVER ME

We weary worn stomachs stare

Look down toward torn alleyways

Hold huddled sorrow sobbing

Sing silent broken drums dry

Oh freedom got all over me

It goes through churning out sleep

Leaving hollow dreams and bright blanks

Scattered nearby and everywhere

Me touching nothing turned two ways