The daily worker. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1924-1958, 1933-10-27
"'Way Down South in Dixie" A Story by Martin Bank

what was that shot we heard
down the road2 Seemed to come
from round here" interrupted one
Of the men.
Lawson pulled on his pipe, I'M
moved by the questions. He blew a
curl of smoke and said smoothly:
ooh, that shot. That was for the
damn chicken hawk what's been
rsisin' hell with my chicks. Wish I
hit him though He's been cuttin
down my sleep lately"
Randall grew impatient; he felt like
screaming at Lawsons cool manner.
Here was man, white man, who
stood as calm as a COW in the face
of the worst crime possible in the
South. At such a time he could talk
about his chickens and sleep!
Lets CO." said Randall to his two
men. Got no time for foolin'.'
They turned, and on the way down,
Randall muttered
Il always claimed that man Law
son was queer, damn queer"
THROUGH the pitch dark Lawson
1 spoke, and his kindly voice made
Hawks feel good. Hawks had met
white men before and some Of them
treated him fairly we'll But no one
spoke to him like Farmer Lawson
was speaking to him now. The other
men, if they were not bosses, were
friendly to him at times. But ne
did not feel then the way he felt now.
Lawson saved his life Lawson called
him son, and talked like father to
him.
Len Hawks wondered why. It was
so new, so strange to him.
Now, son." said Lawson ct know
We must be wonderin' why wouldn't
let them lynchers take We. Well, the
reasons plain. I hate the lynchers
just as much as your people do. They
nave and starve your people as much
as they do ue poor whites"
Lawson was about to say some
thing more. He was thinking about
the charge Randall had made against
this young, small boy who worked to
support his mother. 1t made him
bitter.
And I don't believe none OF them
lies about rspes either, son. know
why they tell them, too. That's done
TO make us hate your people. To
keep We down. To Keep men and
boys of my race and your race apart.
The landowners hate the color Of your
skin. But they hate you more be-
cause you ere poor. They want to
keen you poor too. You're young yet,
and perhaps We don't understand it so
we'll. But soon ye viii learn. We
need each other, got to be together
SOS we cen be strong. For some day
we must stand together and fight the
lynchers. Now like anybody thai
fights when he's being step q en-.
And I'm glad We showed You boss
that you hate tyranny But there's
new way Of f1ghtin' Hawks. That's
why belong to union. That's why
men of your race and mine are gettin'
together. Know what union is, SOM
No? You're young yet. Well, let
me ten you
And Lawson told rim. He care
fully explained everything. And the
words were terribly strange to the
DOJ CGAs. LsNtO I1d iAfsCQ OilOo-
words. He showed it by constantly
nodding his head in approval, and
often saying: That's right" That's
good" Sure I'll do It'll" Lawson
spoke for hours, until it was time
to leave.
The sun was UP and it was near
noon. The horses we're still in the
barn. The plow lay unhitched in the
partly furrowed field. Lawson should
have been at work for many hours
by now. But he was in bed instead,
with shoes and all, sleeping a deep,
hard sleep The whole farm seemed
to be slumbering.
Len Hawks was on freight train,
riding home to his mother. In his
heart he was carrying a new message
fot. his people. The message a poor
white farmer had given to him in
c Tar the night before.