Death was not an abstract idea, to be debated in a philosophy seminar. Death was a personal experience of loss who appeared in the black situation of pain as “a little ole man,” “tippin’ in the room.” Sometimes death was pictured as “a chariot swingin’ low” and “a train a-blowin’ at de station.” That is why blacks sing Before this time another year, I may be gone; Out in some lonely graveyard, O Lord, how long.
