The City I Used To Know - And Response

  • Saturday, February 6, 2016
photo by Kari Thomas Photography

“They Dead”, the innocent young voice said as tears began streaming from my eyes. 

Foolishness that didn’t involve him snatched away his childhood in the blink of an eye. 

Why? 

Why has my city become known more for gangs and violence than the River Front, Lookout Mountain, and a fun little theme park? 

What happened to hot summers at Lake Winnie, Sno-Cones and splashes in the pool at Warner Park, 

Playing kickball with friends, summer camps and after school fun at the community recs? 

THAT was a childhood. 

Chattanooga has become a place I no longer recognize. 

Where violence and death are common place. 

Sons are being fathered by gangs and daughters are becoming mothers way too soon; not enough time to grow up and discover who they are. 

Finger-pointing but no answers. 

Let’s lock them up but no reform. 

If the streets raised you, how do you begin to learn to live a “civilized” life? 

It’s easy to criticize, especially if this isn’t happening in your neighborhood. 

But the “hood” needs you. 

Yes, you! 

The doctors, the lawyers, the entrepreneurs, the city workers, the counselors…me. 

These young people need positive role models, active, face-to-face, one-on-one relationships with people who care. 

Not another, “What’s wrong with THAT community!” reprimand.  

Lord Help Us! 

My heart is bleeding for my city but I can’t wallow in sorrow, shame and fear.

I must, WE must, take a stand and fight for the youth of this city so that their childhood can mirror the one I once knew…

Sno-Cones, splashes in the pool, Lake Winnie and fun days at the park. 

Shavonna Bush 

* * * 

 Dear Sweetest Shavonna, 

You are a pretty girl. I can tell. Your piece is beautiful and powerful. It moved me.  Wonderfully written is my humble opinion. 

Here are some names of people who shaped the life of a fat old white boy: 

Stevie, Michael Ray, Fred, Dennis, Kenneth, Tom, Gregory, Reuben, Jeffery, Cliff, Claude, Steve, Thomas, Dexter, Tony, Wally, (yoyoing with) Lamont , Eddie and most recently and profoundly, Lurone are some of the boys. Gina, Glenda, Theresa, Bam Bam, Lisa June, Lorri, Susan, Cherl and two whose names I can’t remember were some of the girls. There were tens and twenties of others but the most important one of all was our sweet Lessie. She raised us and we buried her and I followed my brother out of the cemetery and I saw his wet eyes in his rear view. We all cried for days. Still crying, actually. 

All of these folks are/were black and most were from Lookout Mountain. 

Because of them, I had the confidence to crack to a scary looking, scowling black woman who’d, like me, gone through the hoops of the ridiculous emissions test for old cars and had finally gotten her sticker: “I’m gonna put it upside down like a 91 just to make them mad!” Her whole body melted wide open and we laughed as two people under the same struggle on Georgia Avenue ought to. 

You are right on Shavonna. This is not a “them” thing, it’s an “us” thing. We are all Chattanoogans. 

Savage Glascock


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