No matter where you travel, nor how long you stay there, a calling back to the Mississippi Delta is a given. I wonder why. Its a decades old question that no one to this point has reasonably answered. Sure, people have their theories, and that pretty much sums up where I am on the issue. I have a theory, nothing more. Its not something that you can pick up and measure, inspect and dissect. For me its a question of the soul. Ill get to that later. Why does one man put his heart and body into a farm or his own mechanic shop? Who says its his mission in life to stay poor or better yet, to be rich? Stunning questions that escape our grasp of who is and who isnt and who should and who shouldnt. Why are some women driven to be the best they can be in the kitchen, cooking up a Southern storm, while others are completely satisfied with take out? Where does the desire, those needs come from? How can some pray for hours in earnest while others go to church on high holidays like Easter and Christmas? It there a reasonable balance that brings one to God and yet not spend his life time in total devotion? Now Ive been around enough Southern Baptist that profess total dedication to God is mandated. Yet, follow that dude late on Saturday night and youll get a totally different picture of his professing and his actions. An older gent, in his late seventies approached me about writing his life story. As a writer, one can get the feel of a person usually in the first conversation, as to whether that person is sincere or prodding and poking at the idea of having their life exposed in a book. This particular gentleman wanted whats known as a ghost writer. That is to say, he sought a writer to write his story, for an agreed amount of money and place his name on the work as if he had written it. Im not opposed to the idea, especially considering the monetary compensation is a premium. The reason of course is the writer gets no credit, nor does he get any compensation from the sale of the book. He could and its happened many times before, write a bestseller that pays high dividends, which the ghost writer has relinquished in the agreement. So a premium front end payment is standard. For the sake of the story, we will call this guy, Tom. Now Tom was completely committed to having his story told, especially one compelling chapter, in which he died. A writer cant tell a story without the background. Its the very backbone of his craft. What may seem trivia to most could in fact be instrumental and pivotal.Theres a drill down process that must be explored. It may not be critical to the story what brand of toothpaste he uses, but the fact that he brushes could play an important role. In Toms story it does. He may have not died, had an oral infection not set in. But one cant start an engaging story with an oral infection. You have to go back in time and find out what this person does, is doing and plans to do later on, even if he is in his late seventies. One must ask, why do you want your life story written? What is the purpose? What do you expect to accomplish? Toms mission will stun you. It certainly had me reeling. I needed a moment to absorb his words. His mission, his purpose and his driving force to have his story told was to debunk religion. Yep! He wanted his life story to clearly state, there is no God and that religion was a hoax.People are being fooled and I want them to know it! This gentle man, with a soft voice, dimmed eyes from age with an occasional shake in his farm weathered hands wanted to take on a two thousand year old belief system and destroy it. He felt his story would prove there is no God and all the hype and hymn singing was useless. I had to excuse myself from the conversation and catch my breath and find my clay feet underneath me. Why would such a worn guy that obviously worked hard all his life feel the need to deny God? Alone and grasping for answers, the most critical questions came rapid fire. Personally, deep down, can I write something that is so oppose to my very being and fiber? Could I; should I lend my writing abilities to such a story? Is my constitution so strong that as a writer I can separate myself from the story being told? And the final question I had to ask myself was, am I a professional or a hack writer that takes on what suits me? An actor playing a murderer, he doesnt really kill someone, but as a pro he takes the gig. Its not like my name will be on the book. He wants to hire a ghost writer. I went back into the conversation armed with the statement that separates the boys from the men, my price for the undertaking. It was high. I didnt back up and gave him a nice round figure. He shivered. There, I knew it! He isnt serious. He just wanted to vent. Then he came back with a counter offer. My next move was to ask more about his story. Maybe I can end the story with his questioning religion. Maybe I can inject my beliefs into his story. I was mentally scrambling to rationalize his intent and my personal convictions. He began a bit of his story. He had an infection that ended him up in the hospital. He was unconscious.They were unable to identify why his body was racked with infection and its source. In their testing stages and frantically trying to determine treatment, he died. The nurse found him, on his side and all of his blood had drained to one side of his body. Theres no heartbeat. Hes dead and had been dead for some time. It was much later they surmised what may have happened, maybe a reason for his death and they tried to revive him. No one knew nor do they claim to know today how long he was dead. But, all is in agreement that he was dead for a very long time before they revived him. Their first concern was brain damage, then internal damage, all of which did not manifest. He was his usual self, with all faculties in place. Thats where his anger, his resentment and vile destiny began. When he died there was no light. God didnt speak to him. No one met him at the gate. There was only void. An unexpected nothingness. He was a religious man, from childhood, a devout Southern Baptist from the Mississippi Delta. He and his family were at church every time the door was open. He sang hymns and worshiped from a bare foot sharecroppers son to a family man in his late seventies. He studied the Bible and could quote, chapter and verse. And yet at his final hour he felt abandoned. He was angry and he wanted to tell the world that they are wasting their time believing in something that doesnt exist. After hearing his story summary, I knew this was not a project I wanted. I knew that no matter how I interjected the miracle that he was revived and that alone was an act of God, I knew I couldnt get through or settle his anger. Thats an internal struggle that only Tom can fight. No amount of money could justify my taking the gig. I had to back away. Had I been an atheist I could have done his mission as he wanted. My guess is, some atheist will gladly take up his banner of disbelief. It just wont be me. The Mississippi Delta is full of colorful characters, Tom certainly heading the parade. The truth is always hidden deep within our soul and Tom hasnt found his answers. Which brings us back to my theory of why people return to the land of gumbo and cotton. The hard questions we have that sends us far and wide exploring, searching isnt in a book some angry guy has written. Its not on some tropical island with umbrella drinks. The answers we seek takes us back home and to a time when we were bathed in the warmth of unconditional love. Its where we felt safe. When we stumble and fall theres always someone there to help us get back up. Its home and home is where we find all the answers we need.
Posted on: Wed, 30 Apr 2014 15:18:19 +0000
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