Starting in 1898 Yessir, Lillian Hardin
was proud to be who she was.
Her mama made sure of that.
Grandma made double sure.
Grandma was a slave—
a bought-and-sold slave—
till the Civil War ended
and she was freed—
free to earn wages
free to raise up her daughter
Dempsey.
Raised her up proud.
Dempsey became Lillian’s mama.
She worked as a cook
for a white family
to give Lillian chances
she’d never had.
Lil’s daddy was
long gone.
Lil was reared by
Mama and Grandma
in Memphis, Tennessee,
two blocks from
wild, wailin’ Beale Street —
where you got
dee-licious
ham, beans, greens
and bar-be-cue
(mm-hmmm)
but also
blues music
juke joints
and pool halls,
yessirree.
All that whoopee worried Mama.
She had a daughter to raise up right.
1900-1915 At two years old
Lil fiddled around,
fingering the keys
on the rooming-house organ,
her feet dangling
off the bench.
Her cousin stomped on the pedals
below—
making that pump organ
moan, wheeze, and groan.
Mama said,
This girl— she could be a piano-playing lady— a concert pianist. Yes ma’am,
that’s what Mama said,
but bright bold Lil
could make as much music
on an upturned bucket.
Still, Lil learned note reading
and piano playing
thanks to schoolteacher
Miss Violet White.
Lil said,
“I used my fingers any way I wanted.”
Sure enough, her fingers went
every which-a-way,
but long as she hit the right notes,
Miss Violet said okay.
At nine,
Lil’s feet reached clear to the pedals.
She became the Sunday-school organist
at the Lebanon Baptist Church—
played “Onward, Christian Soldiers”
so it bounced
with a beat so snappy
the kids couldn’t help but dance.
Lil just had to dance, too,
sittin’ right there at the organ.
Reverend Petty, up in the pulpit,
glared at Lil.
Mama shook her head, said,
Vulgar.
Grandma crossed her arms, said,
Common.
Shucks,
Lil was just followin’
her heart—
or maybe her gut.
’Round about high school
Lil played piano in a recital,
competing for best in her class.
Mama beamed.
Oh no!
Lil lost her place
in the music
but used her noggin
to make a new ending—
improvised it.
The audience thought,
This little girl’s so clever— she’s thinking and making music at the very same time.
My oh my,
didn’t she just bring home
first prize!
WOW za DOO
Copyright © 2018 by Patricia Hruby Powell (Author); Rachel Himes (Illustrator). All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.