My Salute to “Essentials”

I broke the rules.

I bucked quarantine on Thursday and traveled to Birmingham to pick up my mom.  It had to be done.

AK, Bidee and Lily on Easter morning.

Mom hosts a gaggle of Carlisles (her 6 sisters and their families) for Easter every year. (Note: Dictionary.com offers one definition of a gaggle as “an often noisy or disorderly group.” Trust me, it fits. But in the best way.) Ours is the kind of gathering where if you want to be heard, you just talk louder than the loudest person talking.

The shelter-in-place situation reduced mom’s Easter from nearly 50 people to 1. Math makes me sad, especially that kind of subtraction.  So, I drove south.

Interstate 65 took me down memory lane.

Baseball was a big part of my childhood.  I’ve written about the ballpark down the street and referenced summer trips to watch the Atlanta Braves play.  Our family also attended often Birmingham Barons ballgames, all the way back to their days at historic Rickwood Field. When the Barons moved to Hoover Metropolitan Stadium, we were in the stands there, too. 

I loved the ballgames, even in Alabama’s summer heat (i.e. humidity). I cooled off eating ice cream out of a plastic souvenir bowl shaped like a baseball hat.  On the Fourth of July, there were fireworks.

I would sing along as the fireworks burst on cue with the music.  “God Bless the USA” by Lee Greenwood was a given. When they played “Forty Hour Week (For A Livin’) by Alabama, only the last line made sense to me.

Walking to our car after the fireworks were finished, I wondered out loud why they chose that song.  Daddy told me a forty-hour week is what America is all about.  Suddenly, it became clear.

I heard “Forty Hour Week” on the radio as I drove to Birmingham to pick up mom. Just like July 4th, now is an appropriate time to play it.

The song salutes the working women and men who are usually shunned.  Waitresses, salesclerks, and warehouse workers. If you think about it, and you don’t have to think hard, these are the people who are moving us forward right now.

Read the lyrics (or find the song online) and you’ll surely recognize someone you know.

I’m partial to the coal miners.

“There are people in this country who work hard every day
Not for fame or fortune do they strive
But the fruits of their labor are worth more than their pay
And it’s time a few of them were recognized

Hello Detroit auto workers, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin’, just to send it on down the line
Hello Pittsburgh steel mill workers, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin’, just to send it on down the line

This is for the one who swings the hammer, driving home the nail
Or the one behind the counter, ringing up the sale
Or the one who fights the fires, the one who brings the mail
For everyone who works behind the scenes

You can see them every morning in the factories and the fields
In the city streets and the quiet country towns
Working together like spokes inside a wheel
They keep this country turning around

Hello Kansas wheat field farmer, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin’, just to send it on down the line
Hello West Virginia coal miner, let me thank you for your time
You work a forty hour week for a livin’, just to send it on down the line

This is for the one who drives the big rig, up and down the road
Or the one out in the warehouse, bringing in the load
Or the waitress, the mechanic, the policeman on patrol
For everyone who works behind the scenes

With a spirit you can’t replace with no machine
Hello America let me thank you for your time.”

And let’s not forget our healthcare heroes. I imagine they wish they were working a forty-hour week these days.

Sacrifice is defined in different ways for us right now. Going to work. Staying at work. Staying home.

But it never translates “alone.”

Certainly not for my mom on Easter Sunday.

We are in this together, as Alabama sings, “like spokes inside a wheel (to) keep this country turning around.”

That’s worth celebrating, with or without fireworks.

“Now there are different gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different ministries, but the same Lord. And there are different activities, but the same God activates each gift in each person.”

(1 Corinthians 12:4-6)

Written by

Julie Reyburn is new to blogging but has written for many years, first as a journalist and currently as the Communications Director for a non-profit organization. She lives in Alabama with her husband and two daughters.