Wings over Jordan

Sunday School Graduation day 1951

About this time a traveling show came through town.  Family of singers doing small church dates.  Black, or negro as I think my mother said in those days.  Her mother, in Savannah said negra.


Late middle age couple with two grown sons.  Momma in white, the old man and the boys in long, dark blue suites, white shirt and tie.  Sides of the pants shiny from slapping time.  Before sitting down at the piano, momma propped open the top and pulled the front out as far as it would go.  My god she could play that thing.

Black gospel harmonies can move one deeply.  Especially a five year old on the front bench, three feet from the piano and singers.  Later the old man preached.  Text must have been Mathew 7:1.  Still see his huge slender finger pointing out over the crowd.  Like pretend pistol style, thumb cocked back.

Remember, his voice rose, when you point your finger at someone, that thumb is pointing right back at yourself.

Even then I understood what he meant, but also noted that when I point at someone I do so with a closed fist, thumb not pointing back at all.  Does that exempt me from self examination?

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All my life I remembered that this family called themselves Wings over Jordan singers.  Probably overheard one of them telling my folks that they used to sing with that choir, and the phrase stuck with me like the picture of the old mans hand pointing.