People rejoiced as if something wonderful had happened. They didn’t fear Death; in fact, they treated her like an old, personal friend. There was no terror, no uncertainty of things. People sang songs and tapped feet in rhythm as the preacher spoke of Heaven as a man’s just reward. I find it funny that, at funerals, all dead people go to Heaven, regardless of how they lived. Perhaps this is black people’s way of rewarding themselves simply for having been black and survived—even for a while.
