The Poplar Tree

The Poplar Tree

Christina Cooper

January 16^th, 1952

Dear Jane,

I have got to tell you something huge, but you can’t tell anybody. Remember when we were talking at Christmas and you told me that this was my year, that I would fall in love?

Well, I think you may be right. I’ve always known him a little bit, or knew of him, he works for my Pa. His Pa works for my Pa too! He’s a bit older than me, he’s probably 21 or 22, but it’s not that much difference. I’ll be 17 in just over a month anyway.

It’s not like we really talk that much, but I did notice him the other day looking at me. He nodded at me and I nodded at him, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole day! I had the feeling in my stomach, you know?

I want to say something to him, but Pa keeps them all so busy tending the fields. Besides, I don’t know what I would really say. I’m kind of nervous, but if I had something smart to say, I could probably find the courage to do it.

Do you think you can help your ol’ cousin out? You’re always so good at that sort of thing. The boys all love you. I’ll be waiting anxiously for your letter.

Signed,

Rose

February 21, 1952

Dearest Rose,

I told you! I could tell it was going to happen quite soon. The moment we start looking like women, the next thing, we fall in love! You changed in looks from the last time I saw you. No guy would be able to resist, it’s in our blood.

Of course, I can help you! But honestly, by the time you get this letter, I hope that the ice has already been broken. The way that always works for me is very forward, so don’t let your parents see you do it. But all I do to catch a man’s attention is smile, say hello, and then wink. That’s all. You know, men can be a bit daft. They need some encouragement from time to time. If they don’t, they’re arrogant and you don’t want that anyway.

So, tell me about him. If he works the fields, he’s obviously a farmer. But I am a bit surprised because I thought your dad only had the negroes working for him? Is that not so?

Anyway, I wanted to tell you, that I’m getting married this summer. Do you think you will be able to make the trip to be a bridesmaid? I think you’d love Detroit. It’s been so long since you’ve seen it, it has changed so much.

I look forward to getting your letter,

-Jane

March 29, 1952

Dear Jane,

You were right, by the time I got your letter I had already spoken to him. His name is David. Oh, Jane! He’s such a smart man. He reads literature for fun, he writes poetry, and he even knows how to play the fiddle!

Every time I can get past Ma and Pa in the evening, I meet David at the old poplar tree. Sometimes he plays music and sings to me, or he reads me poems that he’s written, and sometimes we just talk about life. Jane, I’m smitten. I truly believe we are meant to be.

There is one problem though, he is a negro. I don’t mind it, but Ma and Pa will never understand and it would be illegal for us to get married. David and I talk about that a lot. You know what’s weird though, the Bible says it is okay for us to marry as long as we believe the same things. Even Moses did! Did you know that? I never heard that scripture being taught in church before, but David showed it to me. I couldn’t believe it. All these years and to think, it is actually okay and not a sin for a colored (David prefers that term) and a white to get married!

Anyway, I will say (don’t tell ANYONE) that his lips are much softer than Paul’s! Paul had those thin, scratchy lips. David’s are very full and soft. Oh, Jane, I could kiss David forever.

Oh, I almost forgot. I would love to be in your wedding, of course!

Yours,

Rose

May 1, 1952

Dear Rose,

I am so glad you are willing to be in my wedding. I can’t wait to get married! Ma’s making my dress. She got all kinds of fancy fabric from downtown. It’s going to be so nifty!

Rose, I’m a bit worried about you though. I can’t believe you’ve set your heart on a negro! I mean, all the stuff going on with the Klan, aren’t you scared? I would be scared to death. You may have to come stay with us, your ma and pa definitely won’t let you be with him.

Honestly, people here wouldn’t think too great of it either. I mean, what if you all did get married, what would the kids look like? Can you imagine rearing up colored babies? They’d be spat on, and called names, it’s just no good. You need to think more about that one. I’m scared you’re just cruisin' for a bruisin' if anyone finds out. And you know what they call white women who look to colored men? That’s public humiliation! Oh, Rose, you always were your own person, but you need to really think about this. An Irishman or Italian would be more ideal than a negro!

Anyway, your secret is safe with me. I would hate to see how everyone reacts anyway. Just please, for both of your sakes, let him go. Doesn’t matter what the Bible says, there’s no place for a colored man and a white woman.

-Jane

June 7^th, 1952

Dear Jane,

I’m so glad to hear from you. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Me and David have been spending a lot of time together at our tree. We are truly in love. But I am going to have to find a bigger dress, because I’m with child. Nobody knows yet, but I am going to start gaining soon.

We try so hard to hide our love, but sometimes I think people see us sitting next to each other, or talking, and they begin to wonder about us. Jane, I’m scared. Ma’s going to kill me. Pa’s going to kill him. I love him so much and I know he loves me.

I’m not sure if I should tell them or not. What do you think? We’ve been talking about running away together. Honestly, I think that is probably what will have to happen. I’m just so scared!

Please, Jane, write me soon so I know I’m not alone.

-Rose

June 30, 1952

Dear Rose,

I told you. I don’t know what you’re going to do. I told you to end it! If you love him, you will find a way to get rid of it and end it! You will never be a proper woman if anyone found out you’ve got a bun in the oven, especially by a negro!

Look, I know you mean well and you’re my favorite cousin. If you end up leaving, I will talk to some friends and see if I can find you a place to go. You could even bring David if necessary, but Rose, it’s not smart at all. Here isn’t much better than Alabama. Just a little less extreme. People just don’t like to see two kinds of people together, that’s all.

As far as my wedding, don’t worry about being in it. It’s too late to find a bigger dress. Besides, I have a hunch you won’t be attending. I doubt your ma will let you.

Just let me know what’s going on, so I know if I need to put you up somewhere. Be safe.

-Jane

November 12, 1952

Dear Jane,

Sorry, it has taken so long to write. Ma followed me to the poplar tree and saw me talking with David. Oh, Jane, you won’t believe what happened. She told Pa. They never said much about it. But a couple nights later, Ma called me in from doing the wash and told me to go with her. We ended up at the poplar tree. David was there. Pa was screaming at him.

Pa had a bunch of his friends with him. David was crying, telling Pa how much he loved me and what the Bible says, but Pa wasn’t having it. Pa saw our initials in the tree, pushed David’s face into it, took a brick, and hit him in the back of his head. People were cheering him on!

Pa had a whip. I started to scream and ran to David. Told Pa that he was making a big mistake, that me and David were going to get married. I told both, Ma and Pa that we were having a baby. That was when Uncle Paul took a rope and tied David to our tree!

Ma was screaming and grabbed ahold of me. I ran to get David, but Pa was already hitting him with the whip. David told me over and over that he loved me. Every time Pa hit him, David would say it again. I ran after Pa and he struck me with a whip too! He didn’t hit me on purpose, but Ma started to scream. David’s Pa was there and he was crying too, pleading with David to stop telling me he loved me.

David said he would never stop saying it. Pa lost his mind when he saw the blood coming from my shoulder. He took the rope and wrapped a noose around David. David, with tears coming down his face, started to sing to me. He was singing the song he wrote for me for our wedding if we were ever to be allowed to marry.

Uncle Paul took the whip and chased David’s Pa with it, telling him to leave. His Pa collapsed to the ground, begging them to kill him instead. Uncle Paul spat on him and hit him for ‘future reference.’

Oh, Jane, Pa hung David from the tree and then they lit him on fire. David died singing to me. I hate them so much. I hate them. All of them. Ma contacted one of her friends and they forced me on a train to go to New York to have the baby. They didn’t even let me hold my son but for a second.

My baby looked just like his daddy, just like David. I love him so much. I don’t know if he’ll ever know how much me and his pa loved him. I wrote him a letter trying to tell him and tucked it in his basket, but I doubt he’ll ever get it.

 So, Jane, I wrote this letter to you after they took my baby away. I don’t know if you will ever see me again. I can’t reconcile living a life where people are so horrible to each other. They took my love. Then they took our child. They can have my soul, I no longer need it.

-Rose