GO DOWN DEATH
Mama went on home May 12, 1999, thirteen years ago at 10:00 tonight. I will always remember the details of that day. Every May 12 it comes to visit. Thirteen years ago, at this very moment, I was lying beside her in the hospital bed, holding her, caressing her arms and hair, singing her favorite hymns, quoting her most beloved scriptures. The first time I heard “Go Down Death,” Mama was still alive. I found it ironic the character is “Sister Caroline.” This beautiful poem helped me understand the process (and yes, blessedness) of a proper death. As she exhaled her last breath I let out a happy shout. “She did it! She’s home. She is finally there!” You see, for those of us who not only believe in the eternity of our soul, but look forward to that eternity, we may fear the unknown manner of how death comes. But, we anticipate spending our forever with those we love who’ve “only just gone home.”
I hope “Go Down Death” will touch you as much as it touches me every time I hear it. My favorite version is by Wintley Phipps. The closing words in my first book, ORANGE BLOSSOM WISHES, say it all: “See ya at the house, Mama. See ya at the house!”
Angel of Death
Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She’s resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband–weep no more;
Grief-stricken son–weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter –weep no more;
She only just gone home.
Day before yesterday morning,
God was looking down from his great, high heaven,
Looking down on all his children,
And his eye fell on Sister Caroline,
Tossing on her bed of pain.
And God’s big heart was touched with pity,
With the everlasting pity.
And God sat back on his throne,
And he commanded that tall, bright angel standing at his right hand:
Call me Death!
And that tall, bright angel cried in a voice
That broke like a clap of thunder:
Call Death!–Call Death!
And the echo sounded down the streets of heaven
Till it reached away back to that shadowy place,
Where Death waits with his pale, white horses.
And Death heard the summons,
And he leaped on his fastest horse,
Pale as a sheet in the moonlight.
Up the golden street Death galloped,
And the hooves of his horses struck fire from the gold,
But they didn’t make no sound.
Up Death rode to the Great White Throne,
And waited for God’s command.
And God said: Go down, Death, go down,
Go down to Savannah, Georgia,
Down in Yamacraw,
And find Sister Caroline.
She’s borne the burden and heat of the day,
She’s labored long in my vineyard,
And she’s tired–
She’s weary–
Go down, Death, and bring her to me.
And Death didn’t say a word,
But he loosed the reins on his pale, white horse,
And he clamped the spurs to his bloodless sides,
And out and down he rode,
Through heaven’s pearly gates,
Past suns and moons and stars;
on Death rode,
Leaving the lightning’s flash behind;
Straight down he came.
While we were watching round her bed,
She turned her eyes and looked away,
She saw what we couldn’t see;
She saw Old Death. She saw Old Death
Coming like a falling star.
But Death didn’t frighten Sister Caroline;
He looked to her like a welcome friend.
And she whispered to us: I’m going home,
And she smiled and closed her eyes.
And Death took her up like a baby,
And she lay in his icy arms,
But she didn’t feel no chill.
And death began to ride again–
Up beyond the evening star,
Into the glittering light of glory,
On to the Great White Throne.
And there he laid Sister Caroline
On the loving breast of Jesus.
And Jesus took his own hand and wiped away her tears,
And he smoothed the furrows from her face,
And the angels sang a little song,
And Jesus rocked her in his arms,
And kept a-saying: Take your rest,
Take your rest.
Weep not–weep not,
She is not dead;
She’s resting in the bosom of Jesus.
By James Weldon Johnson, © 1926, All rights reserved.
Carolyn S. Hennecy recently received a certificate as Designated Victim Services Practitioner through completion of a 40-hour course conducted by the Office of the Attorney General of the State of Florida. She is recognized nationally as an expert survivor spokesperson on domestic/intimate partner abuse and violence, sexual assault and child molestation and abuse.
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