CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Lord, There Are Plenty of Lost Souls

Why would you want a six-year-old boy's soul anyway?

This story was inspired by a story by BOFace called “Jesus Wants Me for Something” regarding singing the sunbeam song as a five-year-old in Sunday School.

My comment on the story was “try praying every night, if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord, my soul, to take.” Carol Lennox wrote how her mother changed the lyrics to “Keep me safe all through the night and wake me with the morning light” to be more reassuring to a child. What a wise mother Carol had.

All I knew as a six-year-old was that I did not want to die and that I needed my soul as a little black boy. Now before you think this is a story about race, creed, or color, let me assure you it is not. Luckily at six years old, I did not think about such things. I just knew that Jesus loves me this I know because the Bible tells me so and singing this song every Sunday at 9:30 a.m. made it so.

I was born and raised in Memphis, so I grew up with gospel music, which I didn’t particularly care for. See, I just committed heresy as a black person saying that I did not particularly care for gospel music. I told you this was not about race, creed, or color. Fortunately for me, we had Stax Record Company, Hi Record Company, and two black radio stations that played rhythm and blues and confined gospel music to Sundays.

Listening to rhythm and blues, which we refer to as Soul Music, provided the wisdom I needed as a kid to understand that I needed my soul. The popular duo Sam & Dave had a hit record Soul Man, so I figured I needed my soul to be a black man. The late great Aretha Franklin was born in Memphis and was crowned the Queen of Soul. So, I figured that black women needed their souls too. Are You following my six-year-old boy logic? I was only concerned about my soul.

The late great James Brown was called the Godfather of Soul. Mr. Brown had a hit record called Soul Power that you could hear blasting from jukeboxes as you walked past restaurants and cafes on famous Beale Street. Our church was two blocks south of Beale Street so occasionally I got lost on my way to church.

I knew that I could not have anyone except the lord almighty taking my soul. After all, there were plenty of souls heading his way daily and weekly. I knew this because our pastor said it every Sunday. He spoke about all the people who were lost souls or had lost their souls. So, I figured all the lord had to do was claim those souls or go find those souls and lead them to his street paved with gold. He could leave my soul with me because I would definitely need it for manhood.

There is something else I need to mention. My paternal grandparents' side of the family was staunch Methodist. My great-grandfather was a Methodist preacher and later a supervisor over a group of Methodist preachers. In the Methodist tradition, I was baptized as an infant. That was fine with me as a six-year-old because I don’t remember it, but I had a certificate to prove it.

The I can’t believe this is going to happen to me moment came from Mom’s side of the family. Those staunch Baptists didn’t consider my soul saved unless I was dunked, held under, damn near drowned, and swallowing water. My mother sneaked me into the baptismal line with her two older sisters' kids, my heathen cousins, one Sunday morning. When I was finally brought up gasping for air, I definitely knew that my soul was safe. After all, I had been baptized twice by two different preachers in two different denominations. Hallelujah! Soul salvation!

Now my final piece of proof that solidified that I needed my soul was given to me by the late Don Cornelius. Mr. Cornelius was the host of the Saturday show Soul Train. He was cool, mingled with the cool soul singers, and wore the latest fashions of that era. He would sign off with the phrase “I leave you with love, peace, and soul.”

I really wasn’t concerned about love and peace at the time, but I was very concerned about being called cool when I grew up. And I knew to be cool that I needed my soul. How could I one day have soul power if I didn’t have my soul? After all James Brown said what I needed was soul power. And that was good enough to seal the deal for me.

Oh, and by the way BOFace, I do remember my Sunday School teacher's name. It was Mrs. Daisy Wallace.

I appreciate you Susan Brearley and BOFace more than you’ll ever know.

If you like my stories, please don’t forget to hit the follow button here on Medium. Claps are always welcome.

Join Medium for $5 per month with my referral link and support me and hundreds of other writers. You will have access to every story published on Medium.