|
|
A Sympathy Most PeculiarJan 21 '07 (Updated Jan 23 '07) Write an essay on this topic.The Bottom Line Exploration number five into a South you'll never find on a map. Up until that awful night, everyone who knew him agreed that Vernon Bell was the kindest man ever set down amongst us sinners by the mysterious and omniscient hand of the Lord Almighty himself. If a better feller ever walked the land, then he sure didn’t appear before the humble people of Pindle Hill. Remembering what a righteous member of the community he was just makes the events of that cold winter evening even more incomprehensible, but the preacher said God does everything according to a plan us mortals could never understand, so I guess I ought to try to find some comfort in that. Even back when it was common practice to lash the backs of niggers, Vernon Bell’s reputation for compassion was widely known. On becoming the master of the manor due to the sudden death of the elder Bell, he immediately renounced the whip and treated his slaves from then on with more beneficence than white men are wont to treat each other. So well-fed, cared for, and educated were Vernon’s workers that other planters joked about putting their own plantations up for sale so that they could pick cotton in one of Vernon’s fields. And while his agreeable personality ensured that none of his peers would harbor anything other than friendly envy at the efficiency and harmony of Vernon’s situation, they certainly weren’t inspired enough by his example to treat their own Negroes with any degree of courtesy or respect. When the Civil War came along to sweep that despicable institution from the face of the land, Vernon Bell was forced to grant his slaves the freedom to which the victors of the conflict said all men are entitled. A few stayed on as hired hands, several continued to work the land as sharecroppers, but the majority of Vernon’s former laborers were forced to eke out whatever existence they could in the nearby town of Pindle Hill. Tears welled up in the eyes of the newly freed as they said their goodbyes to the master who had treated them so very well. The fortunes of Bell Plantation declined, as did those of the other planters, while the blacks who used to toil in Vernon’s fields found themselves often reflecting upon the simplicity and security of bygone days. Encounters between the man and his erstwhile slaves on the former’s occasional forays into Pindle Hill always resulted in tears and long embraces, all the more so when it became apparent that many of them were unemployed and suffering from hunger, physical ailments, and the usual host of misfortunes that typically accompany poverty. In fact, it was then that Vernon noticed for the very first time just how many miserable, downtrodden, and otherwise deprived characters called the streets of Pindle Hill their home, and his aching heart decreed that he should do something about it. Several weeks later, in the heart of the coldest winter to hit this far south in quite some time, the servants still in Bell’s employ fanned throughout the avenues and alleys of Pindle Hill, bearing invitations they had been instructed to place in the hands of each and every person who appeared to be hungry, poor, ill, or just plain unhappy. A few threw aside the paper they received, but most were ecstatic at the prospect of attending the banquet scheduled to take place that very night in the massive barn on Vernon Bell’s property. They all assembled at the designated hour and place, then were loaded onto mule-drawn carts and carried off into the countryside. Vernon personally greeted them all upon arrival, the four or five dozen unfortunates who were astonished that a man like Bell could care so much about their plight. White and black, male and woman, ex-slave and disabled Johnny Reb, they each took his hand in theirs before taking their places at the long wooden tables set out for the occasion. And thus began the most glorious feast, with meat and bird of every kind, as well as sweet potatoes, corn, and piping hot biscuits. Coffee and pecan pie were served up for dessert, and in what must have been the ultimate gesture of love for one’s fellow man, Vernon even brought several bottles of expensive port to share with the beautiful people who were kind enough to join him for dinner on such a bitterly frosty night. Once everybody had eaten their fill and most of the guests were on the verge of slumber thanks in no small part to a certain by-product of the grape, Vernon proceeded to speak at length on his wish that no one should ever again have to miss a meal or sleep in a rat-infested alleyway. He smiled and cried and asked everybody in the barn to think back to the good old days, and while some bore memories of a past far darker than that of Bell and his pampered slaves, the ones who had not yet passed out from the wine were more than willing to humor a man in his cups, especially one as generous as Vernon had proven to be. Little did they know that while the man was expressing his genuine desire to banish their privations, his two most trusted servants were fulfilling their earlier instructions by blocking both doors of the barn with wagons, plows, and whatever else they could find. Having sealed off any and all means of escape, they set the structure on fire and thus realized the dream of Vernon Bell. You can still see the little that’s left of the tragedy if you’re ever out by Bell Plantation. The servants who started the blaze leaped into the flames with Vernon and the others, so I guess you could say the only survivor of that inferno is a local ordinance that forbids a crowd of ten or more from assembling in a barn. Copyright 2007 Changing Out The Ghosts http://www.epinions.com/content_4941586564 The Coming of Elliot Stephens http://www.epinions.com/content_4939489412 Where Everybody Looks The Same http://www.epinions.com/content_4938047620 Abner http://www.epinions.com/content_4937785476  |
| Write the first comment on this review! |
