Jules Corriere, Land of Spirit Playwright, created a Community Performance, Inc. blog on Community Arts Network web site. There’s a section just for the stories and thoughts she has about our Franklin County project. The one she wrote after the February project was very interesting and relates to the upcoming play, so we decided to add it to this ” temporary” Land of Spirit web site, for your enjoyment.Â
The Cement Mule
Jules Corriere - Franklin County, Georgia
I have rekindled my spirit this weekend, in a place, appropriately named “Land of Spirit”.
What a weekend I spent in Franklin County, Georgia. I used to talk about the two women who started this project as the dynamic duo, but now this dynamic duo now has an entire community base behind this project. It isn’t just two people. It isn’t just the chamber, or the downtown development association, though they are all strongly involved. There is a real, true community base of support- working to build the theater, build PR, storygather, fund raise, - you name it, they are doing it, and doing it RIGHT.
I’m excited about writing this play. The stories are stunning. Deep, powerful, risky. Strong African American stories, strong stories from the pioneering days, strong stories from the earliest moonshiners. The farmers. The first schools, the depression days. As I was listening to all of these stories from so many cultural backgrounds, one question seemed to vibrate around each one. I sure love to examine the questions. The question that seemed to resonate was “How do we move forward, progress, into the future, how do we move forward, and bring everything forward with us- people, values, ideas, without paving over them, or leaving them behind, in the name of progress.
Two stories really clinched it for me. One was when the road was built in 1938. In a way, it is a simple story, and in a way, it’s the most profound metaphor I’ve come across. As the road was being built, sometimes they wouldn’t have everything they needed, so they’d hire local folks to do some work. They didn’t put gravel down like they do now, they used soil. And this farmer who lived near there was hired. He had 2 mules and a wagon, and worked to carry soil there. And his wagon got stuck there. The mule broke its leg. They had to shoot the mule. And you know, they never moved the mule, they poured over it, and there’s always been a bump there ever since. The bump in the road. The man who told the story said he’s probably the only one left who knows about that, but every time he drives over it, he thinks about that. There’s more to say. But it will be in the play. It something about losing a way of life, about the loss of place in the coming days. It’s a beautiful way of thinking about where else we may have those “bumps in the road”.
I also spent some time with Barbara Clark, a woman who, when times got tough during the Civil Rights Days, was part of the group that organized a march, and she marched in Lavonia, with the Reverend Hosea Williams, on a rainy night, up to City Hall. And the City COuncil and the mayor responded. The results of the march led to her community’s cultural center being rebuilt, after arsonists hit it. And also–during this unrest, their piano, which was central to their community gatherings, was shot up beyond repair. The city Council replaced their piano. I believe it was Margaret’s husband who was the mayor during that time, who saw the wisdom of restoring that piano to the community.
It’s a simple thing. And also a deep one. A step toward restoring harmony. Barbara’s group worked with other groups and churches in the city after that, and became involved in what is now known as the “Helping Hands Ministry”, a multi-cultural group that does things to strengthen, help and empower people in the community. Barbara has a soft voice, but she’s got the eyes, those wise, peaceful eyes of someone who’s seen a lifetime of change, and been a part of it.
Before leaving town, we met once more with this dynamic core group, at the homemade donut shop. Oh, yes. And I had two chocolate-covered. Richard opted for the old fashioned, and I think the unanimous choice in the room was the apple fritter. And all the coffee you can drink- help yourself.
