This is the eulogy that I wrote and delivered for my father’s funeral. We had the sounds of Jackie McLean playing softly in the background, and I remember the Reverend being not at all happy with the sound of jazz wafting through his sanctuary on that somber occasion. But I pointed out to him that if there was no Jazz in Heaven, for my father, the Pearly Gates would represent the entrance to Hell.
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Happy Father's Day, C.
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Blues For Mr. C
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For those of you who don't know me, my name is Eric, and I'm proud to say that I am the second son of this man who lies here before you. Some of you knew him as C.L., others as Mac, but I'm sure you'll agree that no matter what you called him, or under whatever circumstances you knew him, life with this brother was an adventure - so you can only imagine what it was like to be his son.
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I had occasion to discuss this moment with C not too many months ago. I remember asking him what he wanted me to say on this occasion. His answer was cut and dried - and consistent with his philosophy of life. He said, "Tell 'em I'm dead."
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Well, ladies and gentlemen, C.L. is dead. But I think much more needs to be said, not only about who he was, but about what he represents. You see, ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is not just the remains of a human being. What we have lying here before us represents the end of an era.
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Today we live in an era of Hip hop, joggin' suits, and tennis shoes. But this man represents another era. He represents the era of Bebop, Brooks Brother's suits and Florshiem's. It didn't take James Brown to tell this man that "I'm Black and I'm proud,” or Jesse Jackson to tell him, "I am somebody," - all you had to do is see him enter a room and you knew this was a proud Black man who knew exactly who he was. Just to here him speak was to recognize that this was a man with a strong sense of self - and he had every right to. Because he's the product of a generation of Black people who had a profound effect on the entire world, and one day the world will look back upon them with honor, in recognition of that fact.
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Whenever you hear a discussion on Black pride, someone always brings up the issue of Egypt, and whether or not Cleopatra was Black. All that's academic. We don't have to go all the way back to antiquity to find a source of Black pride, all we have to do is study the life and times of our parents, our grandparents, and that generation of Black people born between the turn of the century and WWII, to find pride in who we are as a people.
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In less than 50 years these people went from being the defenseless, and nameless victims of public lynchings, to becoming people like Colon Powell, who was responsible for the defense of the entire western world. In less than 50 years, the people of this generation went from housekeepers and flunkies, to the boardrooms of multinational corporations. In less than 50 years, they went from playing washboards and tin cans on the side of the road, to becoming the greatest musicians the world has ever known. That's the era that C.L. represents.
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To be sure, he wasn't a doctor, a lawyer, or an artist of any kind, but he, like the vast majority of his generation, helped to create doctors, lawyers, and artists, and set the tone - and the sense of style - that defines who we are as a people; and not just any people, but a people who captured the imagination of the entire world. .
You see, C.L. personified the Jazz age - an age of style, true pride, and dignity. He didn't just like Bird, he was Bird - he was the living, breathing, personification of every note that Bird related so eloquently on his horn. And he didn't just listen to Miles, as he brooded through the changes of "Stella By Starlight," he was portrayed by Miles - just as surely as the Mona Lisa was portrayed by Di Vinci. And for that reason, this generation - his generation of Black people - defied all scholarly analysis.
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According to sociologists, every minority group must, and will, become acculturated into the larger society. That is, their culture will be molded to fit into that of the majority. But this generation, through necessity, not only defied that theory, but turned it on its head. As a direct result of the character and the style of this generation, a young White kid today has more in common with the Black culture in terms of speech, dress, musical tastes, and attitudes, than he has with his own grandfather. And to just turn on a television set or radio any place in the Western world and beyond, is to pay homage to Dizzy, Bird, Miles and all the rest of this great, and progressive generation.
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But the one thing that made this generation stand out most - and I think it's what C.L. most clearly personified - was its independence. C.L. never asked the government for a thing - in fact, he spent most of his life trying to make it in spite of the government. He and his generation of black people taught us the wisdom of Ralph Waldo Emerson's words written over 150 years ago in his essay on self-reliance. He said, "It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after one's own; but great is the man who, in the midst of the crowd, keeps with perfect sweetness, the independence of solitude."
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Measured by that yard stick, C.L. was a great man. He achieved the "American dream" of home and family without compromising any of his values. To paraphrase Frank Sinatra, he did it his way, but to put it in C.L.'s words, "I didn't budge a inch."
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Measured by that yard stick, C.L. was a great man. He achieved the "American dream" of home and family without compromising any of his values. To paraphrase Frank Sinatra, he did it his way, but to put it in C.L.'s words, "I didn't budge a inch."
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So when we look back on what this man represents - Langston Hughes, Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Medger Evers, Adam Clayton Powell, our parents, and our grandparents - it becomes clear that they all, in their own way, represent the greatness that lie dormant within us. And if we're smart, we'll explore that resource, because within every life there resides a source of knowledge, and with every death, a source of knowledge is forever lost.
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So what we mourn here today is not just the passing of a man, but a lost opportunity, and the dying gasp of a magnificent era.
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C, these words spew forth with the love, pride, and deep respect of a loving son. So sleep well, my man - and carry my pride in your being, throughout eternity.
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Your son,
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E
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http://wattree.blogspot.com/2009/04/play-me-essay-son.html
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http://wattree.blogspot.com/2014/01/one-for-jimmy.html
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http://wattree.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-hustlers.html
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http://wattree.blogspot.com/2014/01/one-for-jimmy.html
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Eric L. Wattree
http://wattree.blogspot.com/
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Religious bigotry: It's not that I hate everyone who doesn't look, think, and act like me - it's just that God does.