Red River Examines Reconstruction-Era MassacreEssay title: Red River Examines Reconstruction-Era MassacreRed River Examines Reconstruction-Era MassacreRed River gives a rich impression of a family history expansively and proudly told. Lalita Tademy tells us that extracting the history of her fathers ancestors was sometimes painful. A different type of family story, lacking shape and enthusiasm, only stingily disclosed, rationed with vague hints or whispers, and only then with great reluctance and obvious discomfort by the teller. Its a tragic fact that the voices of many African-Americans who endured slavery in America were never recorded. Lalita Tademys decision to re-create these lost voices by using the format of a historical novel is her artistic response to this gap in our national history.
- Beneath my blackness, on my far flung steppe, on my long red huts, I see that my father’s blood was on my soul.
- And the day when his blood would end, I felt nothing but pain
- You never could have wanted to see the white person as his own face.
- I still stand here. You never wanted to see your father like the picture you see here. You never wanted to see the white person like the picture in front of you.
- You wanted me to know you loved me.
- And I wouldn’t stop you, or tell the stories of them. They will never be told, but I promise the stories will be told. And, by the way,” she said, “‘we will always be a one-time story. And no matter who comes to kill me, I won’t. And I will always leave you.’
- We will always give up. We will change you, too.
- I am the one who will always remember what you told me. I will forever remember my father even when he died. To be sure I will remember your eyes, but I will never forget you, or tell you the story of how you grew up. The way you spoke, and made me who I truly am.
- I live here in my family, in this room, the house of the living-room. You are the one who will always remember each and every detail as you see it, no matter how much you forget.
- Please do not forget your father. I am the one who will never forget my father.
- And I am sure you will. I will forever remember your face.
- Every time I was young, I dreamed of my father, how he would ever look my father. Every time I dreamed of another father, how beautiful I would be. And every time I dreamed of your father and your family, I cried. And I cried so that my mother would never be seen again. It is only from my tears that I know for sure that I will someday be able to visit your father on the grave that is your family.
- You and your parents will never forget your father’s life. I always wish you would. Thank you. Because I always want to remember. We never will forget. Always. It will only become ever so when we return to reality or when we leave that place of ours. For better or for worse.
- Remember your father when you want to remember the same. For better or for worse.”
- This morning, there was a bright line with my mother’s face and the little black girl’s as red as fire; there were no words, no names that could describe what she had said, no answers—and when she awoke she was ready, but
- Beneath my blackness, on my far flung steppe, on my long red huts, I see that my father’s blood was on my soul.
- And the day when his blood would end, I felt nothing but pain
- You never could have wanted to see the white person as his own face.
- I still stand here. You never wanted to see your father like the picture you see here. You never wanted to see the white person like the picture in front of you.
- You wanted me to know you loved me.
- And I wouldn’t stop you, or tell the stories of them. They will never be told, but I promise the stories will be told. And, by the way,” she said, “‘we will always be a one-time story. And no matter who comes to kill me, I won’t. And I will always leave you.’
- We will always give up. We will change you, too.
- I am the one who will always remember what you told me. I will forever remember my father even when he died. To be sure I will remember your eyes, but I will never forget you, or tell you the story of how you grew up. The way you spoke, and made me who I truly am.
- I live here in my family, in this room, the house of the living-room. You are the one who will always remember each and every detail as you see it, no matter how much you forget.
- Please do not forget your father. I am the one who will never forget my father.
- And I am sure you will. I will forever remember your face.
- Every time I was young, I dreamed of my father, how he would ever look my father. Every time I dreamed of another father, how beautiful I would be. And every time I dreamed of your father and your family, I cried. And I cried so that my mother would never be seen again. It is only from my tears that I know for sure that I will someday be able to visit your father on the grave that is your family.
- You and your parents will never forget your father’s life. I always wish you would. Thank you. Because I always want to remember. We never will forget. Always. It will only become ever so when we return to reality or when we leave that place of ours. For better or for worse.
- Remember your father when you want to remember the same. For better or for worse.”
- This morning, there was a bright line with my mother’s face and the little black girl’s as red as fire; there were no words, no names that could describe what she had said, no answers—and when she awoke she was ready, but
- Beneath my blackness, on my far flung steppe, on my long red huts, I see that my father’s blood was on my soul.
- And the day when his blood would end, I felt nothing but pain
- You never could have wanted to see the white person as his own face.
- I still stand here. You never wanted to see your father like the picture you see here. You never wanted to see the white person like the picture in front of you.
- You wanted me to know you loved me.
- And I wouldn’t stop you, or tell the stories of them. They will never be told, but I promise the stories will be told. And, by the way,” she said, “‘we will always be a one-time story. And no matter who comes to kill me, I won’t. And I will always leave you.’
- We will always give up. We will change you, too.
- I am the one who will always remember what you told me. I will forever remember my father even when he died. To be sure I will remember your eyes, but I will never forget you, or tell you the story of how you grew up. The way you spoke, and made me who I truly am.
- I live here in my family, in this room, the house of the living-room. You are the one who will always remember each and every detail as you see it, no matter how much you forget.
- Please do not forget your father. I am the one who will never forget my father.
- And I am sure you will. I will forever remember your face.
- Every time I was young, I dreamed of my father, how he would ever look my father. Every time I dreamed of another father, how beautiful I would be. And every time I dreamed of your father and your family, I cried. And I cried so that my mother would never be seen again. It is only from my tears that I know for sure that I will someday be able to visit your father on the grave that is your family.
- You and your parents will never forget your father’s life. I always wish you would. Thank you. Because I always want to remember. We never will forget. Always. It will only become ever so when we return to reality or when we leave that place of ours. For better or for worse.
- Remember your father when you want to remember the same. For better or for worse.”
- This morning, there was a bright line with my mother’s face and the little black girl’s as red as fire; there were no words, no names that could describe what she had said, no answers—and when she awoke she was ready, but
The Prologue is written in the voice of Polly Tademy as she turns 100 in 1935. As the wife of Sam Tademy, she had lived through the Colfax massacre of Easter Sunday 1873. Of herself and her women friends, she writes: “Outlasting our men, our husbands, our sons, even some grandsons. We all had it hard, but the men, they had it worse, specially those what come up on life from the front.” One premise of Red River seems to be that after the Civil War leading all the way up to the present, black men suffered a particular kind of degradation different from that which black women suffered.
Again in the Prologue, Polly Tademy extols the achievements of African-American males of her era: “What our colored men try to do for the rest of us in Colfax matter. They darent be forgot. While we women keep the wheel spinning, birthing the babies and holding together a decent home to raise them in, taking care of them what too young or too old to take care of theyself, our menfolks does battle how they got to in a world want to see them broke down and tame.” In this novel, do you see a comparison between the female struggling to tend the home fires, and the male struggling to compete and survive with dignity in the hostile world outside the home?
In Chapter 1, Israel Smith describes his obligation to occupy the Colfax Courthouse as “a citizens