As I am sure we all know, the National Council of Churches varigated certain elements, some of whom I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even Gerald L. K. Smith. As for myself and my Council, all I can say is, just like the song "Don't worry about me, I'll get along." Having passed the half century mark in spite of Jim Crow, red baiting, segregation in churches and out, restrictive covenants, obscurantism, provincialism, and just plain Mississipism, I reckon I will be here awhile yet, in both flesh and spirit. And a long, long time in song.

But I am distressed that sometimes serious and sincere artists like the very talented composer, Margaret Bonds, who has so beautifully set to music my BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING, should be perturbed by the sort of attacks Fulton Lewis and others level against people of good will, and which frighten even so numerically strong an organization as the National Council of Churches (largely white, I guess, and so not very much concerned with a Brown King, anyway,-- even though he was one of the Wise Men). Therefore I write you this note, and send you the enclosed prayer, and hope that all is well by you, for Margaret says you are a quite wonderful lady.

I expect you would agree with me, that in the great swinging wonderful universe around us, such minor stupidities are rather a bore. Come fiche, alors, as the French say.

After all, Jesus had a hard time finding a place to be born. And THE BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING will be sung. And with or without the National Council of Churches, with cordial regards to you,

Sincerely yours,

C O P Y

October 24, 1960

Miss Lillian Hall,
National Council of Churches,
475 Riverside Drive,
New York City.

Dear Miss Hall:

As I am sure we all realize, the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. has among its variegated memberships certain rather bigotted elements some of whom, I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even Gerald L. K. Smith. As for myself and my work in relation to the Council, all I can say is (just like the song) "Don't worry about me--I'll get along." Having passed the half century mark in spite of Jim Crowism, segregation in churches and out, restrictive covenants, red baiting, obscenity, provincialism, and just plain Mississippi-isim, I reckon I will be here awhile yet--in both flesh and spirit. And a long, long time in song.

But I am distressed that sometimes serious and sincere
artists like the very talented composer, Margaret Bonds, who
has so beautifully set to music my BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING,
should indirectly be perturbed by the sort of attacks Fulton
Lewis and others level against people of good will, and which
frighten even so numerically strong an organization as the
National Council of Churches (largely white, I guess, and so
not very much concerned with a Brown King, anyway--even
though he was one of the Wise Men). Therefore I write you
who perhaps have been perturbed, too, this note, and send you
the enclosed prayer, and hope that all is well by you, for
Margaret says you are a quite wonderful lady.

I imagine you would agree with me that, in the light of
the whole great swinging wonderful universe around us, such
minor stupidities are rather a bore. *Ca me fiche, alors*, as
the French say.

After all, Jesus had a hard time finding a place to be
born. And the BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING will be sung. And
Jesus will get along, too--with or without the National
Council of Churches.

Cordial regards to you, and thanks for your interest,

C O P Y

October 24, 1960

Dear Miss Hall:

As I am sure we all realize, the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. has among its variegated memberships certain rather bigoted elements some of whom, I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even Gerald L. K. Smith. As for myself and my work in relation to the Council, all I can say is (just like the song) "Don't worry about me--I'll get along." Having passed the half century mark in spite of Jim Crowism, segregation in churches and out, restrictive covenants, red baiting, obscurantism, provincialism, and just plain Mississippi-ism, I reckon I will be here awhile yet--in both flesh and spirit. And a long, long time in song.

But I am distressed that sometimes serious and sincere artists like the very talented composer, Margaret Bonds, who has been beautifully set to music my BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING, should indirectly be perturbed by the sort of attacks Fulton Lewis and others level against people of good will, and which frighten even so numerically strong an organization as the National Council of Churches (largely white, I guess, and so not very much concerned with a Brown King, anyway--even though he was one of the Wise Men). Therefore I write you who perhaps have been perturbed, too, this note, and send you the enclosed prayer, and hope that all is well by you, for Margaret says you are a quite wonderful lady.

Cordial regards to you, and thanks for your interest.

Poem enclosed follows.

L.H.

C.O.P.Y.

October 24, 1960

Dear Miss Hall:

As I am sure we all realize, the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. has among its variegated memberships certain rather bigoted elements some of whom, I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even Gerald L. K. Smith. As for myself and my work in relation to the Council, all I can say is (just like the song) "Don't worry about me--I'll get along." Having passed the half century mark in spite of Jim Crowism, segregation in churches and out, restrictive covenants, red baiting, obscenity, provincialism, and just plain Mississippi-isim, I reckon I will be here awhile yet--in both flesh and spirit. And a long, long time in song.

But I am distressed that sometimes serious and sincere artists like the very talented composer, Margaret Bonds, who has been beautifully set to music by my BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING, should indirectly be perturbed by the sort of attacks Fulton Lewis and others level against people of good will, and which frighten even so numerically strong an organization as the National Council of Churches (largely white, I guess, and so not very much concerned with a Brown King, anyway--even though he was one of the Wise Men). Therefore I write you who perhaps have been perturbed, too, this note, and send you the enclosed prayer, and hope that all is well by you, for Margaret says you are a quite wonderful lady.

I imagine you would agree with me that, in the light of the
whole great swinging wonderful universe around us, such minor
stupidities are rather a bore. Ca me fiche, alors, as the French
say.

Poem enclosed follows.

L.H.

COPY of letter, (sent with the
attached enclosures.)

L. H.

October 24, 1960

Dear Miss Hall:

As I am sure we all realize, the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. has among its variegated memberships certain rather bigotted elements some of whom, I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even Gerald L. K. Smith. As for myself and my work in relation to the Council, all I can say is (just like the song) "Don't worry about me---I'll get along." Having passed the half century mark in spite of Jim Crowism, segregation in churches and out, restrictive covenants, red baiting, obscurantism, provincialism, and just plain Mississippi-isim, I reckon I will be here awhile yet---in both flesh and spirit. And a long, long time in song.

But I am distressed that sometimes serious and sincere
artists like the very talented composer, Margaret Bonds, who
has so beautifully set to music my BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING,
should indirectly be perturbed by the sort of attacks Fulton
Lewis and others level against people of good will, and which
frighten even so numerically strong an organization as the
National Council of Churches (largely white, I guess, and so
not very much concerned with a Brown King, anyway---even
though he was one of the Wise Men). Therefore I write you
who perhaps have been perturbed, too, this note, and send you
the enclosed prayer, and hope that all is well by you, for
Margaret says you are a quite wonderful lady.

I imagine you would agree with me that, in the light of
the whole great swinging wonderful universe around us, such
minor stupidities are rather a bore. <u>Ca me fiche, alors</u>, as
the French say.

After all, Jesus had a hard time finding a place to be
born. And the BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING will be sung. And
Jesus will get along, too—with or without the National
Council of Churches.

C O P Y

October 24, 1960

Dear Miss Hall:

As I am sure we all realize, the National Council of
Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. has among its variedest
memberships certain rather bigotted elements some of whom,
I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even
Gerald L. A. Smith. As for myself and my work in relation
to the Council, all I can say is (just like the song) "Don't
worry about me--I'll get along." Having passed the half
century mark in spite of Jim Crow's segregation in churches
and out, restrictive covenants, red baiting, obscenity,
provincialism, and just plain Nonsense, I reckon I
will be here while yet--in both flesh and spirit. And a
long, long time in song.

I imagine you would agree with me that, in the light of
the whole great swinging wonderful universe around us, such
minor stupidities are rather a bore. On my side, alone, as
the French say.

C O P Y

October 24, 1960

Dear Miss Hall:

As I am sure we all realize, the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. has among its variegated memberships certain rather bigoted elements some of whom, I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even Gerald L. K. Smith. As for myself and my work in relation to the Council, all I can say is (just like the song) "Don't worry about me--I'll get along." Having passed the half century mark in spite of Jim Crowism, segregation in churches and out, restrictive covenants, red baiting, obscenity laws, provincialism, and just plain Mississippi-isn't, I reckon I will be here awhile yet--in both flesh and spirit. And a long, long time in song.

But I am distressed that sometimes serious and sincere artists like the very talented composer, Margaret Bonds, who has been beautifully set to music by BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING, should indirectly be perturbed by the sort of attacks Fulton Lewis and others level against people of good will, and which frighten even so numerically strong an organization as the National Council of Churches (largely white, I guess, and so not very much concerned with a Brown King, anyway--even though he was one of the Wise Men). Therefore I write you who perhaps have been perturbed, too, this note, and send you the enclosed prayer, and hope that all is well by you, for Margaret says you are a quite wonderful lady.

I imagine you would agree with me that, in the light of the whole great swinging wonderful universe around us, such minor stupidities are rather a bore. Caution, alas, as the French say.

Poem enclosed follows.

L.H.

C O P Y

October 24, 1960

Miss Lilliam Hall,
National Council of Churches,
475 Riverside Drive,
New York City

Dear Miss Hall:

As I am sure we all realize, the National Council of Churches of Christ in the U. S. A. has among its variegated memberships certain rather bigoted elements some of whom, I imagine, swear by Fulton Lewis, Jr., and perhaps even Gerald L. K. Smith. As for myself and my work in relation to the Council, all I can say is (just like the song) "Don't worry about me--I'll get along." Having passed the half century mark in spite of Jim Crowism, segregation in churches and out, restrictive covenants, red baiting, obscenity, provincialism, and just plain Mississippianism, I reckon I will be here awhile yet--in both flesh and spirit. And a long, long time in song.

Poem enclosed follows.

L.H.

C O P Y

October 24, 1960

Dear Miss Hall:

But I am distressed that sometimes serious and sincere artists like the very talented composer, Margaret Bends, who has been beautifully set to music by my BALLAD OF THE BROWN KING, should indirectly be perturbed by the sort of attacks Fulton Lewis and others level against people of good will, and which frighten even so numerically strong an organization as the National Council of Churches (largely white, guess, and so not very much concerned with a Brown King, anyway--even though he was one of the Wise Men). Therefore I write you who perhaps have been perturbed, too, this note, and send you the enclosed prayer, and hope that all is well by you, for Margaret says you are a quite wonderful lady.

Poem enclosed follows.

L.H.