DO RIGHT

At the end of last year I was blessed to have 40 minutes with a man named Darnell who was grateful to be 48 years young. He was a soft-spoken middle-aged man who walked with great distinction, well kept and finely dressed and very humble. 

As we drove I asked him if he was from the area. “Yes sir, born and raised in Franklin, Tennessee. When I asked what he did he told me that he was a teacher. "Of what?" I inquired. "I taught English at Centennial High School." "Taught?" I said. "Yes, until I had my strokes." I looked at him and stared... "Strokes?" He said, "Yes, I had four." "FOUR!" He said, "four in one day." I suddenly noticed a little slowness in his speech and responses. 

I didn't want to dwell so I changed directions. "So where is your family originally from Darnell?" I asked. "Six generations born and raised in Franklin." Slowly I turned and gazed upon his stoic and very compassionate profile as he stared out the windshield. "Yes sir, he said, born and raised.”

I slowed down at that point as we made our way along that tiny curvy road with no shoulders. "So Darrell, your family were slaves?" With the sound of tires on the pavement he softly replied, “Yes.” In an attempt to not be obvious, I began to study this man whose past goes back almost 200 years in the soil I now drive on.

Sophisticated and kind, his eyes were like pools of time standing still as he slowly turned his face to me and with great pride said, "My family is pretty well known here, you may have heard of us? Booker… we are the Booker family?" Oddly enough because of my love for history and living here for 25 years, I had. I knew there were several slave families that had faired well over the years after the Civil War. 

I told him how much I hate slavery and that I was sorry for what had been done to his family so long ago. I said, “To me, the enslavement of any man, woman or child goes against everything I believe in. It goes against God who created us all in His image to be free. He nodded and said, yes. And on that winding road under a full moon’s light, two total strangers from opposite worlds were in full agreement. He thanked me, though I'm not sure why? 

He told me about his older sisters and how the three of them were the first in the history of their family to go to college and get degrees. A tear ran down my cheek. I was glad it was dark. 

"Your father and mother must be so proud of you, Darnell.” He replied they were. “You are very special Darnell, I said, especially to God." He humbly smiled and said yes… that he was blessed. "My father was very strict with us. He would always say to me, "Darnell, if you do right, right will follow you." 

Suddenly for me time slowed way down as we arrived way too soon at the place he was going. 

As he slowly opened the door I told him that it was such an honor and privilege for me to have him in my car and that I will never forget him. I encouraged him to write his family's story. That is was important for us to hear. Again he thanked me and said perhaps he will.

With a look of deep gratitude he shook my hand and slowly got out of my car thanking me again as he blessed me. I sat there and watched him walk slowly up to the door where his friend greeted him with a deep and long hug as I pulled off into the night. 

For the next 30 minutes as I wove my way back to the heart of Franklin his words "If you do right, right will follow" ran like blood through my veins. I've not stopped thinking about Darnell Booker our conversation or the words he lived by from his father. I knew my Father wanted the same for me. When I got home I immediately looked it up because I knew it was there… there in the Bible. And when my eyes landed on the words of King David I knew that night was for me. "The Lord freely gives everything to those who do what is right." Psalm 84:11 Then I read the words of Paul who said, "Do what is right and you will have praise for the same." Romans 13:3

I knew that night God used Darnell Booker to speak to me. It was, shall we say, a Divine appointment. 

Tonight as I hear the faint sound of a train whistle blowing in the distance as it rolls through Franklin somewhere, I think to myself, right’s not always popular. Sometimes right seems wrong. Often times right requires great sacrifice but it always rewards the doer. This year like no other year... each day like no other day... moment by moment I want to do right so that right will follow.

Steven Bliss

© 1/5/18