The Detroit tribune. (Detroit, Mich.) 1935-1966, 1936-05-09
Silent Counselor
(ByALMA BEAN LOVING

pouring from the white mans face
and staining the white of his shirt.
A crowd was gathering and three
rushed to the mans aid. The Ne
gro was held firmly by his captors
while some one called, Police"
With a shout of rage the Negro
suddenly wrenched himself free of
the hands that held him and dart
ed through the crowd out into the
avenue, where he started down Lin
coin Square with a fast gathering
crowd at his heels. Then a hoarse
cry went up.
Lynch him! Catch him!"
Others took up the cry and the
crowd increased as automobiles en-
tered the race.
The sharp sound of police whis-
tie, the steady ring of an ambu-
lance siren, and the lovely Mothers
Jay ended with horrible murder
on the record books of Carseile.
OHdpttI IL
Soft glowing lights, shining
through the vari-colored glass win
dows of the Morris Street Chris
tian Church cast tiny geometrical
patterns on the velvet green lawn.
A solemn hush, and then the
throbbing tones of a pipe organ
pouring forth a stirring spiritual,
while voices, thrillingly deep and
resonant arose on the evening air.
Mothers Day, and the pretty lit
tie church was respondent in gar
lands of snowy white and pink car
nations. 1t was a special program
with the city's leading citizens in
charge.
The Right Rev. Thomas was just
ly proud of his flock. 1t gave him
a feeling of pleasure and pride to
know he was the leader Of the most
intelligent and outstanding group
Negroes in the city. The white peo-
pie respected and admired Rev.
Thomas and always looked to him
for advice on questions dealing
with the Negro problem and spoke
glowingly of the militant stand he
assumed when his race was in
volved.
Tonight he was singularly tired
and depressed, why, he could not
explain. True, he had a great deal
to be thankful for and he prayed
for the true Christian spirit, and
strength, for he lived by the text,
I'VE that are strong ought bear the
infirmities of the weak"
He waded through many battles
for Negro rights, sometimes with
his members fighting by his side
yet there were battles he had wag-
ed alone. With his fine, keen eyes,
under gray, bushy brows that still
had the sparkle and steadiness of
youth, he looked over his group.
In his heart an overpowering af-
lection arose and stirred the in
ner-most depths. To him they were
all his children, needing steady
hand and guidance. He loved each
one, and like a father their faults
only made them more dear to him.
He could see Mother Clark, her
little wizened frame bowed by the
weight of years, nodding her head
in time to the music. Only this
morning she had came to him with
her dimming eyes misty with tears.
Mother Clark had just two loves,
her church and her son. She had
waged fight for both. Joe Clark
was a heavy weight on his mothers
shoulders. A world war veteran.
Joe had returned broken in spirit
and body. He had taken to drink
and carousing. Many believed the
mysterious death of Mable. His
young wife whom he had loved
dearly had caused him to separate
himself from the church. Drafted
into the army he had married Ma
BILE Miller, lovely girl, just before
he sailed for overseas.
After Mable's passing Mother
Clark had grown more gray wiz
ened and forlorn. Today she had
met Rev. Thomas with her eyes fill
ed with happy tears. Joe had pro-
missed to do better and had brought
two carnations, pink one for him
self and a white one for her He
had laughed boyishly as he said;
"This white one is for you, mons
darling. to wear in honor Of grand
mother" She had pressed the pas
tors hand as she told him God is
good to me-"
Then his gaze wandered over to
Mrs. T. w. Jones, the city's society
/ leader. She ruled the social realms.
, and Mrs. T. w. Jones' "at home"
brought out the elite in full re-
gala.
Rev. Thomas chuckled to himself
az he remembered the dignity Mrs.