Once Upon a Time in America

Once Upon a Time in America

This American Life Moment

Did They Kill Him Too?

The story that hit me the hardest was about a 4-year-old girl and her father as they talked about love on a cold December evening. It went something like this:

Girl: Dad, what’s Christmas?

Dad: That’s when we celebrate the birth of Jesus.

Girl: Who’s that?

The father was not particularly religious, so they went out and bought a children’s Bible and read stories about the early life of Jesus. The girl loved the stories. She was particularly impressed with Jesus’ message of doing unto others as you would have others do unto you. A couple of weeks went by and the girl and her father drove past a church. In front was a giant crucifix.

Girl: Who’s that?

The father winced a little and realized he never finished the story about Jesus. He told his daughter that Jesus’ message of love was so frightening and intimidating to those in power that they felt threatened and they killed him. She thought about that.

A couple more weeks went by and the girl was on holiday from school, because it was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. The father and the girl went out for breakfast and there was a picture of Dr. King on a placemat.

Girl: Who’s that?

Dad: That’s Martin Luther King, Jr. He’s the reason why you have off school today. We’re celebrating his birthday.

Girl: What did he do?

Dad: He was a preacher.

Girl: (Excitedly) For Jesus?

Dad: Yes, for Jesus.

Girl: What was his message?

Dad: He told everyone that they should be kind to one another no matter what the other person looked like.

Girl: That’s like Jesus’ message.

Dad: Yeah, I suppose it is.

The girl thinks for a moment.

Girl: Did they kill him too?

Nanna

My Nanna, my mother’s mother, was a real giver. She was always doing for others. One of the few summers I attended Camp Barney Medintz (a Jewish Camp that is a part of the Atlanta JEA-(Jewish Educational Alliance) during 1971, 1972 or 1973, she would meet us in Atlanta when we arrived. Nanna would bring food for all of the kids while they waited for the bus trip to camp in Cleveland, GA.

We got dropped off a the JEA which in the 1970s was still on Peachtree Street. Nanna lived in Atlanta all her life.

She would always show up with peanut butter crackers and other goodies - and I guess one of the kids remembered her the following year and asked, “Is your grandmother coming today?”

Tracy Ullman 1980s Song-Video

You've been around for such a long time now
Oh, maybe I could leave you but I don't know how
And why should I be lonely every night
When I could be with you, oh yes you make it right
And I don't listen to the guys who say
That you're bad for me and I should turn you away

Cause they don't know 'bout us
They've never heard of love

I get a feeling when I look at you
Wherever you go now I wanna be there too
They say we're crazy but I just don't care
And if they keep on talkin', still they get nowhere
So I don't mind if they don't understand
When I look at you and you hold my hand

Cause they don't know 'bout us
They've never heard of love

(do do-do-do)
Why should it matter to us if they don't approve
(do do-do-do)
We should just take our chances while we've got nothin' to lose

[musical bridge]

Baby

There's no need for living in the past
Now I've found a love, I'm gonna make it last
I tell the others don't bother me
Cause when they look at you they don't see what I see
No I don't listen to their wasted lines
Got my eyes wide open and I see the signs

Cause they don't know 'bout us
They've never heard of love

No I don't listen to their wasted lines
Got my eyes wide open and I see the signs

Cause they don't know 'bout us
They've never heard of love

Childhood Charleston 1968

Music Editor Elegantly slobby Charlestonian, recently back after 16 years in Athens, Georgia. I remember the Killer Whales, the old Sonny Goldberg ads on TV, the "Happy Raine" kids show, and the Slip-Slidin' waterslide in Mt. P. I find high-quality beer, obscure rock records, and strong coffee irresistible. I edit and write for the City Paper's music section and play drums and make noise for fun. ( T. Ballard Lesemann)