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letra de lonnie (richmond) - mark abel

smell of chemicals hangs in the air
above the iron triangle
some things never change, and i’ve been here 70 years now

up from shreveport came mom and pop
there were jobs in the shipyards — even for colored folks
(that’s what they called us then.)
rough and tumble after the war;
expecting a beautiful future
we got the depression all over again

people packed like sardines into flimsy shacks —
black, white and poor —
just like down south, old times there were not forgotten
and just like there, crackers ran this town
ran it down, right into the ground
and they kept on running it long after
brothers started getting a piece of that city hall action
(you know what i’m saying.)

we had a nice little shopping district
but the anger boiled over in the ‘60s
some young fools and panthers tore up macdonald
the flames gutting doorways and dreams
but no phoenix arose here; we just sank deeper into the mud
all the money went to hilltop
where they tried to build a new richmond without us
when too many black faces showed
the developers fled to lily-white pinole
and those millionaires out in the point
well, they’ve never given a d-mn about us
many years ago dr. king spoke of bootstraps and expectations
well, there are still some here who have no boots
just drive down barrett far enough; you’ll see ‘em
we’re no more than fodder for the channel 2 news:
drive-bys, crack dealers, rapes and scandals
richmond is the town everyone loves to hate
— from the safety of their living room couch, mind you
but none of them has ever been here!
some things never change

this is my wife, doris. she’s from oklahoma
and we’ve been married 50 years
we raised two kids, and they did ok
in spite of these bad schools
they live in vallejo and sacramento
and worry about us staying on
“last one leaving richmond, turn out the lights,”
they laugh. and we do too

but we’re not leaving
our friends are here, those still living
and the young people, they must learn
that violence and drugs are not the way
broken glass, broken lives, we’ve seen it all
still, there is beauty here — parks, harbor and history
and plenty to be proud of — ballplayers, musicians, doctors and workers
we’re on our way to church
starting to rain now
well, nice talking to you

- mark abel

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