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Fort Scott honors native son
Fort Scott, Kan. -- Fort Scott native son and Renaissance man Gordon Parks has been an idol to young photographers, journalists, poets, songwriters and filmmakers of every ethnic origin for many years.
His Life Magazine photo stories enlightened readers about the struggles of the poor, as well as the lives of the rich and famous. The story of his own struggle from a modest beginning to the height of fame and success has helped fuel the determination of others to excel, to achieve, to reach for the stars.
Recently, a sign was erected just outside of Fort Scott, identifying this rural Kansas community as the place where Parks grew up.
Although life for a black child during the early 20th century in Fort Scott meant enduring discrimination and prejudice, Parks has since seen positive changes in the community and its people. Differences of skin color no longer hold people back from turning their aspirations into reality.
Personal friendships developed with Bourbon County people like then-eighth-grader and documentary filmmaker Joanna Fewins from Redfield, who is now an adult and a journalist; and former Fort Scott Mayor Ken Lunt have helped heal some of the wounds that Parks had carried with him for many years.
The following poem was recently written by this favorite Fort Scott native.
A Sign By The Road
It stands at the edge of a Prairie town
telling anyone, who cares, that I was born there.
Perhaps the space left will say "Now he's buried here."
Today a will-maker dropped by to tell me
That time was weary --and growing shorter
and shorter;
that nights for laughter and dancing are almost over.
Perhaps a year, or more is patiently waiting.
Beyond that winding road, Momma, Papa and sisters lay,
assigned to graves that accommodate their Blackness.
Night arrived loaded with buckets of tainted memories
that had besieged my childhood with despair.
No escape!
Troublesome reminders
slammed me into a past-where
White doors frowned at me
and White schools shunned my presence.
Fortunately some mighty fine things happened
along the way-for me, and that prairie town.
Ups and downs have a way of contradicting the future.
That sign, standing proudly on the road to Fort Scott,
appears to be invisible to both malice and hatred.
Crowned with mystery, racism seems to be wrinkling
into solitude.
My doctor stretches my remaining years to 10!
My bones hope he is right
But doctors, and will-makers, can be wrong.
I came into this world-pronounced dead
Thankfully, God condemned that declaration.
I survived.
The end predicted for me, fell into a hole and died.
So now I don't sit around waiting, day by day --
for death to call my name again.
-- Gordon Parks
Editor's note: Mr. Parks, your friends and admirers here in the land of your boyhood embrace you in their hearts. If we never have the pleasure of seeing you again face to face, please know that we will remember you with great fondness and with gratitude for the lessons you have taught us about respect, about forgiveness, and about love.