Coal Bins
Chicago, the South Side,
long before Barack Obama
long before Barack Obama
those I’d love see live
anywhere they like
are those so black
they up long planks
in the heat of summer
wheelbarrow coal
so bright it pours
in a silver seiche
down chutes
through windows
of bungalow basements
crashing in coal bins
of new masters
anywhere they like
are those so black
they up long planks
in the heat of summer
wheelbarrow coal
so bright it pours
in a silver seiche
down chutes
through windows
of bungalow basements
crashing in coal bins
of new masters
–Donal Mahoney
Author's note:
This
is a poem based on fact, if memory serves, because only the blackest
men delivered coal to the bungalows on the far south side of Chicago
when I was in grammar school.
The
time frame for this poem was roughly 1948 to 1952 in a neighborhood of
white immigrants in Chicago. There was no overt racism toward the black
man wheelbarrowing the coal into the coal-bin basement window. The coal
truck would pull up and the white driver would dump a ton of coal and
the black guy would be left to spend the day taking the coal, a barrow
at a time, up a plank down the gangway to dump it into the window.
I
used to watch these men when I was in grammar school. I couldn’t get
over how hard they worked. The sweat was like a flood. They all wore a
version of the so-called do-rag to absorb the sweat. But the one thing
they seemed all to have in common was the degree of their blackness. I
never saw a mulatto or octoroon doing that kind of work.
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