Authors: Brenda Bevan Remmes
“Yes,” voices shouted.
“Do we, indeed, have a responsibility to ALL of our children to help them attain the educational opportunities that they deserve so that they can be forces in this world, forces to build and strengthen our community and to raise families who contribute back to this community? Do we have that obligation, I ask you? DO WE?
YES
came louder this time.
“SAY IT AGAIN, ONE MORE TIME SO I’M SURE I HEARD YOU RIGHT.” A resounding YES filled the room.
“Then my friends and neighbors, I propose that today we initiate the Isaac Perry Education Scholarship with our first priority to assist Isaac Perry’s grandchildren to complete their college educations.”
There was applause.
“But ALSO to ultimately assist all African American children who live in Cedar Branch to go to college, whichever college they choose; a community college, a state college, Howard, or Harvard University.”
YES
, YES rose in unison.
“Can I get an Amen?”
AMEN, AMEN!
The Reverend suddenly turned to the Choir. “I think we need to sing to that, don’t you? A happy song, a song of celebration.”
As the
choir obeyed with several zippy choruses of “Oh Happy Day, Oh Happy Day
,
”
Helen steadied herself for what was to come. Had she attended more black churches she would have been better prepared. What she didn’t yet realize was that she was a fish on the line about to get reeled in.
As the choir ended, Reverend Broadnax leaned onto the podium with the force of his weight and slowly eyeballed the congregation. “How much? How much do you think we should raise so that this young man and woman can finish college?”
“Ten thousand” was thrown out. Reverend Broadnax frowned.
“
We’re not talking about sending them to beauty school. We’re talking about AN EDUCATION. We’re talking Norfolk State, Shaw University, the University of Virginia, Georgetown. We want our children to become doctors, physicists, computer scientists, and engineers. We want our children to be senators and governors and President of the United States.”
Half of the congregation
was on its feet now, applauding and shouting “ AMEN.”
Reverend
Broadnax stopped and looked at Felicity. “If you could go anywhere, where would you want to go to college, honey?”
Surprised by the question, her mouth twitched: then she whispered, “Chapel Hill.”
“And you, son?” The Reverend nodded to Alex.
Alex sat up straight. “Howard, Sir. I’d like to go to Howard University.”
The Reverend slammed his hand on the pulpit: “One hundred thousand dollars! We’re gonna start with one hundred thousand, but that won’t do it, because we’re working on building something permanent, not just for these two young people, but for ALL of our young people. We’re building a trust and we can only take five percent a year. No, my friends, that won’t do. We need to raise more than one hundred thousand dollars.”
Two hundred thousand!”
jumped out from someone in the congregation. “
Three hundred thousand!”
another said.
“NOW, we’re starting to talk ED-U-CATION,” the Reverend said. “We’re starting to talk about sending our children to the
best
schools for the
best
educations so that they can get the
best
job and raise the
best
families for our community. NOW WE’RE TALKING.”
There was applause and general agreement as the drum and keyboard danced off one another in a short duet.
When things quieted, Reverend
Broadnax was ready. “I make a motion, I make a motion here today in our church, and I know this isn’t often done, but I’m doing it anyway, I make a motion here today that the Jerusalem Baptist Church establish the Isaac Perry Educational Scholarship in memory of Isaac Perry with a goal to raise five hundred thousand dollars within the next two years.”
A few eyebrows went up and one or two audible
gasps of surprise were heard.
“I propose that we raise a half-a-million dollars in the next two years. Do I hear a second?”
Numerous seconds were called out, as well as a resounding
“YES.”
“Now,” said Reverend
Broadnax, “I’m going to ask Miss LuAnne Perry if she will chair that committee for us. I’ll work with you LuAnne and we’ll put together a board of directors from our church and an advisory board from the community. Would you do that for us, LuAnne?”
“Yes!” LuAnne said loudly, with unexpected vivacity.
“We’re going to need the help of the whole community—the
whole
community. We’re going to need fundraisers, and grants and personal contributions from individuals and organizations and our county commissioners. Madame Commissioner, would you please join us up here at the pulpit?”
Helen Truitt froze. She looked from side to side, unsure whether she could rise or not, until one of the deacons stepped forward and offered her his arm. She took it and returned a weak smile. She seemed a bit unstable as she walked to the front. Reverend Broadnax assisted her up the steps and then kissed her on the cheek, another unexpected gesture that caught her off guard.
Realizing how s
wiftly the Reverend had shifted attention from the Hoole family to the Perry family and Helen Truitt, Liz watched him with admiration. Grandpa and Grandma, Chase and Sophie carefully followed his message.
“Commissioner, this is turning into a wonderful opportunity for our community, wouldn’t you say?”
Helen looked out across the sea of primarily black faces, plastered on her smile, and said, “Goodness
, yes, a wonderful opportunity. I’ve always believed that education is the key.”
“Then you won’t have any trouble getting a motion from the other county commissioners to support such an endeavor?”
“I can’t imagine why not,” Helen said in all truthfulness.
“The commissioners would be willing to support us as we seek grant funding through outside organizations, foundations, and governmental agencies. We’d need this type of money to become a priority for the commissioners, a priority over jails, wouldn’t you think, Madame Commissioner?”
Helen hesitated, again looked across the room. That took her a bit off-guard. She collected her thoughts and said, “Money that goes to children’s education, I will always support.” There was applause. Helen smiled.
“That’s wonderful of you, Commissioner.” Reverend Broadnax said. “We look forward to being a line item in the budget. Now, Madame Commissioner,” he continued before she could absorb what he’d just slipped by her, “in support of what we are trying to do and as a show of your commitment, could we count on a fifty thousand dollar pledge from the Methodist Church?”
Helen blinked and swallowed. The room went silent. “Well, we’re a small church,” she stuttered a bit. “I’m not sure I can speak for the church.”
“Madame Commissioner, someone must speak for the church. We have to be able to show foundations that we can match any contributions we receive from them. We have to show them that our entire community is behind us. We’re counting on you to go to your church and lead the fund raising there for a fifty thousand dollar contribution.”
Helen tried to collect her wits. The clicking of a cane on the back of a pew broke the uncomfortable pause and Anna Reed rose with some effort. “Reverend, while it is not in the Quaker tradition to make any commitment that does not have consensus from our members, I feel led to rise and speak. I believe you can count on a fifty thousand dollar contribution from the Quaker meeting, perhaps more.”
“Hallelujah!” Reverend Broadnax sang out. “Let the Lord be Praised.”
A
chorus of
Hallelujahs
echoed throughout the room.
“And the Methodist Church?” He returned his attention to Helen. “Madame Commissioner, if the Methodist Church will match the Quakers, we will immediately jump-start this scholarship here today with one hundred thousand. You will help to attest to the fact that the children in sixty-five percent of the families in your constituency will have more access to higher education.”
Helen looked out over the congregation and said hesitantly. “Yes, we will try.”
“Hallelujah, again, Praise to the Lord. We have just raised one hundred thousand on our first morning and have affirmation that the county commissions will support our requests for funding from outside organizations and consider this scholarship as a priority in their annual budget. Can we do better?”
Helen was stunned, but the Reverend was still rolling. “Madame Commissioner, you are the President of the local Women’s Auxiliary, are you not?”
She looked at the minister with a blank expression.
To Liz’s surprise, Chase rose. “Reverend Broadnax, I would like to pledge twenty-five thousand from the Men’s Club here in town and ask the Women’s Auxiliary to match that pledge.”
“Glory be to God, the Lord is speaking to us today, my brothers and sisters. The Lord is speaking. When the Lord is speaking, we want to listen. We have one hundred and fifty thousand already in commitments. The men and women’s club will each contribute an additional twenty-five thousand.”
He gave Helen a hug without waiting for any affirmation from her
; she was like a rag doll in his mighty grip.
“
I have pledge cards here in my hand. The Lord’s been speaking to me all week long, and I knew this day was coming. The Lord told me to be prepared. There are about three hundred people here today. That’s a good crowd. We’re going to pass these around and as the choir sings I’m going to ask you to look into your hearts and see if each person here can come up with two hundred today for The Isaac Perry Scholarship. Two hundred dollars in cash, a two hundred dollar check, or a two hundred dollar pledge would give us over sixty thousand dollars! We would leave this church today with a total commitment of over two hundred thousand dollars in memory of Isaac Perry. Can we do that? CAN WE DO THAT? YES! WE! CAN!”
The choir jumped into “This Little Light of Mine, I’m Gonna Let it Shine
,”
as the cards and offering plate circulated. Reverend Broadnax generously handed Helen a pen. “A check, if you have it,” he smiled. “I’ll put mine with yours.”
“I left my purse back at the pew,” Helen whispered.
“Deacon Roberts,” the Reverend motioned for one of the deacons to come over. “Would you collect Commissioner Truitt’s pocketbook? She’d like to go ahead and write a personal check.”
As the choir sang, Reverend
Broadnax pulled out two hundred dollars in cash and then almost as an afterthought, pulled out another fifty. “Let’s make it an even five hundred,” he said as he waited patiently for Helen to write her check. Together they dropped their offerings into the plate. Then, and only then, did the deacon offer to accompany Helen back to her seat. She seemed to require more help on the way back than the trip up, but she had just had an important education in how to raise money,
the Reverend Broadnax way
.
The service ended with a last hymn and a lengthy prayer of thanksgiving for a community that stands in the light of God. Reverend Broadnax had done his Quaker homework.
As Reverend Broadnax went to the rear of the church to greet parishioners, Grandpa and Grandma stood, unsure how to approach LuAnne, but feeling the need to remain and speak. Grandpa would not turn his back and walk away. After everyone else departed, Reverend Broadnax returned to where the two families stood. The Reverend looked at one family on one side of the aisle and then the other.
“
LuAnne,” Reverend Broadnax said, “I know this doesn’t end the pain, but it’s a start.”
“Anything that saves our
children from jail or an early death is a start.”
Grandpa stepped forward. “I may not be worthy to stand by your side, but I want you to know I will make myself available in whatever way you see fit to use me.”
“Mr. Hoole,” LuAnne stiffened her jaw.