A catchy tune popped into my head the other day.
Walking from one room to another I started singing, "Jimmy crack corn and I don't care ..."
I suddenly stopped. Where did that come from? And what's that next line?
"Jimmy crack corn and I don't care ... my master's gone away."
I suddenly saw myself at one of those desks with the wooden top that lifts up over a belly below. I was singing with everyone in a classroom. Then I realized I was singing about a slave.
I looked up the song lyrics. They tell a story about a blue-trail fly biting a horse that bucked off a slave master to a fatal ending. There is some debate over whether the slave let that happen and what cracking corn means. But they blamed the blue-trail fly, and Jimmy was in the clear.
I don't recall class discussion about slavery or the word "master." I probably was more curious about that blue-tail fly.
I also remember singing about the Eerie Canal and tales about Paul Bunyan and Johnny Appleseed. I loved those stories. They helped give me a sense of pride in America.
But I did not feel that same pride again ... when that song jolted my memories. I felt a bit of shame.
But hey, we were just kids. Singing a silly song. About corn and blue-tail flies biting horses.
And some guy named Jimmy ... whose master had died. That's all. Right?
I’m Lonny Cain … and that’s my Perspective.