Take a Knee
Born 1949 in Washington D.C., veteran of a lost war, citizen of a nation in debt to its ideals, Eddie Fellows has seen trouble. Enough trouble. A reluctant but willing viewer of the news cycle chronicling the world in his eighth decade, he sees what seems endless trouble. His old wounds ache. He wishes to live his retirement in peace. But even when going to the corner market for cat food, he sees trouble. Then one evening in his Baltimore apartment, at this late but by no means final hour, Eddie discovers that one can see trouble... or bear witness.
Take a Knee
When I was just a young boy,
I found a black cat on Halloween.
My older brother said, “That’s a bad thing”,
And took it away from me.
He tied a rope around its neck, threw it over a branch of our tree.
I told my grandpa what had happened, he said,
“Go on down, son, Take a knee”.
We were driving through Alabama, in September of ’63.
It was Sunday, and Mama wanted to pray,
So we stop at the first church we see.
The car was rocked before we heard
Explosions one, two, three.
Mama said, “Our church today is this here dirt,
Get on down, child, take a knee”.
I was discharged from the Army,
After we won back Quảng Trị.
I flew home, clutching a medal,
Spent a year at Walter Reed.
A soldier I pulled out of a ditch
Came rolling up to me.
He didn’t say what had happened, just
“Come on down, brother, take a knee”.
I picked up my prescriptions,
I took the bus home, and had a nap.
I woke up to watch my programs,
Heat some soup, and feed the cat.
Then I saw that man get murdered,
Right on my own TV.
I let go my cane,
Called my own name,
“Go on down, man, take a knee”.
Song and recording by Joe Christiano.