we're riding the rails with johnny cash today, a special recorded for tv long ago. baritone, wearing black and dust happy to show us the moment the golden spike brought east to west. i'm watching the man grin like a little kid--hollering for history, he was, and his enthusiasm was sincere. then he cradled his guitar, strummed and learned us the chant of the section men.
my son stops drawing and stares intensely at the screen watching the section men heave and haul in unison, the gang leader belting out the moves, and for a second i saw my mom in the chair leaning forward on her knees watching the boy watching the man in black.
"john henry said to his captain a man ain't nothing but a man," and when mom sang it, better believe it was a hymn.
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