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My full name is Mary Harris Jones...

The Trial of Mother Jones

"Mother" Mary Harris Jones

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My full name is Mary Harris Jones, but I'd prefer it if you'd call me, Mother - everyone else does. I was born in Cork, Ireland in 1837. My people were poor. For generations we鈥檇 fought for Ireland's freedom. My Da bought us passage to America in 1845. After findin鈥� work on a railway construction crew, Da became an American citizen. Of our U.S. citizenship we were taught to be forever proud. In school, I studied to become a teacher. Dress makin鈥� too, I learned proficiently.

(a soft, tender smile grows)

But in 1861鈥� I was workin鈥� as a teacher in Memphis, Tennessee. That spring I met George Jones. He was an iron molder. He embodied everything handsome about that profession. In my earliest memory of George I see him workin鈥� in a mist-filled room, plumes of steam coming from a vent just beside him.

(dreamily)

His physical strength, next to the gentleness of a talented craftsman, made him terribly attractive, and鈥� ah鈥� there was the steam.

(they embrace, she鈥檚 beaming)

We married that fall鈥� and in the coming years had four perfect wee little chislers. Da and Ma helped rear 鈥榚m while I taught school.

Street noises of people and wagons are heard, a wet cough rattles nearby. Her smile fades.

In 1867 a yellow fever epidemic swept Memphis. The victims were mainly among the poor. The rich went to doctors, or fled the city. We could afford neither. Schools and churches closed.

(they pantomime caring for their children)

One by one, our four wee ones grew pale, blistering with the fever, their skin turnin鈥� a jaundiced yellow. One by one, we dressed them for burial.

(touching George鈥檚 face gently)

My George, bein鈥� a man鈥� He did not die so quickly.

George turns aways and separates from her. LIGHTS DIM on him slowly. Grating wheels turn.

Night after night I shut out the sounds of sufferin鈥�. But the one sound I couldn鈥檛 stop was the gratin鈥� wheels of the death cart. When it left my house for the last time, I followed it to the union burial grounds.

(wiping emotions away)

For the rest of the epidemic I worked as a nurse, tryin鈥� to ease the sufferin鈥�. It wasn't until later that I questioned why鈥� why I had not been touched. I don't consider myself a zealot or a savior, but from that moment on鈥� I've known why I'm here. And I've met frightfully few people who can say the same.

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