The funeral opened with the choir softly singing an old
spiritual, Hush, Somebody’s Calling My Name, as they marched
down the center aisle. When the choir started singing the
phrase, I’m so glad I got my ‘ligion in time, you
could feel the spirit moving in the church and folks were
letting themselves go. Several Amens and
Hallelujahs were uttered by some of the church
mainstays. Sister Hawthorne could always be depended
on to cut up and feel the spirit on cue. She started
whooping and hollering and arching her back and flailing her
arms to the point where she knocked off another lady’s hat.
“Oh Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” she cried out as one of the ushers
came to fan her. Another usher had to bring her a bottle of
water so that she could regain her comportment.
Brother Rogers, on the other hand, was a bit more dignified
when he gave God praise. He was the resident hummer. He’d
hum tunes no one knew and a funeral wasn’t a reason to
change his modus operandi. He hummed for the entire
funeral.
After the choir sang and a word of prayer was given,
Elder Robert Earl Jenkins opened his Bible and read the 23rd
Psalm.
“If there is anyone who’d like to offer the Scott family
a word of encouragement or reflect on Deacon Scott’s life,
this is your opportunity to do so. Please limit your
comments to two minutes, ’cause I know some of ya’ll just
never know when to hush up and sit down. I know you mean
well, but at times church folk just talk entirely too long.”
A few people laughed nervously. We all knew he was right,
but we just didn’t want to admit it.
“I got somethin’ to say.” Mr. Addison jumped up
immediately to speak. He made his way to the pulpit with
much trepidation and his voice quavered when he began to
speak.
“Good morning church. My name is Charlie Addison. I
remember coming to Mr. Scott when I didn’t have a dime to my
name. Since I work in construction, my jobs are seasonal. My
lights were ’bout to be cut off, I didn’t have no food for
my family. Hell, oh excuse me, I mean, I didn’t have a pot
to piss in or a window to throw it out of.” Several people
started chuckling. Mr. Addison didn’t realize what was so
unusual about what he said that would warrant such a
response, but he continued.
“Mr. Scott didn’t hesitate to loan me the money I needed.
Matter of fact, he gave me more than I asked for. He told me
to pay him when I could. I never did get a chance to pay him
back.” Mr. Addison started to get choked up. He paused for a
while.
“Even still, he never treated me different. He didn’t
call me out or embarrass me. Mr. Scott always respected me
and treated me like a man. I’ll never forget him for that.
That’s all I got to say. Thank you.” Mr. Addison looked
really shaken up. Public speaking wasn’t something he did a
lot of but he obviously felt compelled to pay his respects
to Pop-Pop.
Ms. Janie Barton spoke next. Everyone called her Ms.
Janie. She owned J. B.’s Barbershop on Mercury Boulevard in
Hampton. She was Pop-Pop’s personal barber. It was rare to
find a woman owning and operating a barbershop especially
one that catered to black men. Ms. Janie went to great
lengths over the years to cultivate her relationships with
her customers. There was a high level of trust she enjoyed
with them. Pop-Pop was particularly comfortable with her and
they laughed and joked all the time. She always gave him
such a hard time about his height. Pop-Pop was a fairly
short man but carried himself like a big dawg.
“First, giving honor to God, who is the head of my life.”
Ms. Janie held her hand up as if she was waving to God.
“I’d like to offer my sincere condolences to the Scott
family. It was such a shock to hear about his passing. I had
just seen Scott a week ago Tuesday and the next thing you
know….” Ms. Janie’s voice faded a bit. “He was such a
generous man. Many times customers would walk in and talk
about their various and sundry situations. The barbershop
was the one place men could go and say what was on their
minds and be sure it wouldn’t be heard on the six o’clock
news. Scott would overhear people’s worries and frustrations
and he would leave an envelope full of cash and instruct me
to give it to whoever needed it most. He never wanted anyone
to know because he knew how much pride men have and he
didn’t want to make any of them uncomfortable. Scott was a
real man. “Scott was a jokester too, but I was time
enough for him, let me tell you. He would come into my
shop talking all that noise about how he was really the
mayor of Newport News, but he was just keeping it on the
low. I would tell him ‘you’re keeping it on the low
alright, with your short self. In fact, if you were any
shorter you would have to cuff your drawers.’” The whole
church erupted in laughter. Elder Jenkins almost lost
control of the service. We didn’t hear Ms. Janie’s closing
remarks because we were all laughing so hard. Ms. Janie
smiled as she made her way back to her seat. It actually
lightened the mood for everyone because we were still
reeling from the stunning news of Pop-Pop’s death.
