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Friday, July 06, 2007 - ore 13:34
Music in my ears...
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
Rubin Carter era un pugile e divenne un caso. Era imbattibile tanto che per come combatteva sul ring venne chiamato Hurricane. Lui gli avversari li travolgeva tutti come solo un uragano sa fare, non avevano nemmeno il tempo di pensare che già lui li aveva mandati al tappeto, tutti, bianchi o nero che fossero. Rubin Carter però era nero in un’America che ancora si vergognava dei differenti colori della sua pelle. Un nero non poteva essere un vincente a quell’epoca, e Rubin lo era nel post sbagliato al momento sbagliato.
Ci penseranno le autorità, i tribunali, le giurie bianche, le famiglie benpensanti a mettere al tappeto Hurricane. Lo incastreranno per qualcosa che non aveva mai commesso, smonteranno alibi, arriveranno a giurare il falso e gli daranno il più sonoro Knock Out che la storia del pugliato abbia mia visto.
Ma l’America era davvero solo questa? C’era anche la controcultura, si contro cultura,ovvero conto la cultura dominante, che giusto perchè domina non è mica detto che debba essere nella ragione. Esponente di questa controcultura è tutt’ora Bob Dylan, il menestrello che prese a cuore la cause di Carter. Partecipò alle marce di protesta con la Baez e Mohamed Alì e se questo non fosse bastato beh, allora scrisse una canzone
Rubin Carter fu sbattuto così in faccia a milioni di persone incuranti e incoscienti. Le strade d’America bruciavano, i ghetti erano polveriere, i bianchi intimoriti dietro i loro giardini recintati.
Si marciava e si cantava anche per Rubin Carter ma non solo. Un uragano aveva investito tutto. La stampa doveva occuparsene e le coscienze dovevano schierarsi. Il risultato? Beh si potrebbe pensare che non servì a molto Carter si fece ingiustamente anni e anni di prigione. Continuò la sua lotta e un giorno un giudice bianco gli dette ragione, ingiustizie erano state commesse e presentate contro di lui. Un upper cut alla civile società americana, Rubin Carte, prese così la cintura di campione del mondo, e non la prese sul ring, la sua vittoria più assordante la ottene quel giorno in tribunale.
Attualmente Hurricane è libero e non è solo una canzone
Sulla sua vicenda è stato girato un buon film con Denzel Washington, che potete facilmente vedere.
Pistol shots ring out in the barroom night
Enter Patty Valentine from the upper hall.
She sees the bartender in a pool of blood,
Cries out, "My God, they killed them all!"
Here comes the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin’ that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
Three bodies lyin’ there does Patty see
And another man named Bello, movin’ around mysteriously.
"I didn’t do it," he says, and he throws up his hands
"I was only robbin’ the register, I hope you understand.
I saw them leavin’," he says, and he stops
"One of us had better call up the cops."
And so Patty calls the cops
And they arrive on the scene with their red lights flashin’
In the hot New Jersey night.
Meanwhile, far away in another part of town
Rubin Carter and a couple of friends are drivin’ around.
Number one contender for the middleweight crown
Had no idea what kinda shit was about to go down
When a cop pulled him over to the side of the road
Just like the time before and the time before that.
In Paterson that’s just the way things go.
If you’re black you might as well not show up on the street
’Less you wanna draw the heat.
Alfred Bello had a partner and he had a rap for the cops.
Him and Arthur Dexter Bradley were just out prowlin’ around
He said, "I saw two men runnin’ out, they looked like middleweights
They jumped into a white car with out-of-state plates."
And Miss Patty Valentine just nodded her head.
Cop said, "Wait a minute, boys, this one’s not dead"
So they took him to the infirmary
And though this man could hardly see
They told him that he could identify the guilty men.
Four in the mornin’ and they haul Rubin in,
Take him to the hospital and they bring him upstairs.
The wounded man looks up through his one dyin’ eye
Says, "Wha’d you bring him in here for? He ain’t the guy!"
Yes, here’s the story of the Hurricane,
The man the authorities came to blame
For somethin’ that he never done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
Four months later, the ghettos are in flame,
Rubin’s in South America, fightin’ for his name
While Arthur Dexter Bradley’s still in the robbery game
And the cops are puttin’ the screws to him, lookin’ for somebody to blame.
"Remember that murder that happened in a bar?"
"Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"
"You think you’d like to play ball with the law?"
"Think it might-a been that fighter that you saw runnin’ that night?"
"Don’t forget that you are white."
Arthur Dexter Bradley said, "I’m really not sure."
Cops said, "A poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and we’re talkin’ to your friend Bello
Now you don’t wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow.
You’ll be doin’ society a favor.
That sonofabitch is brave and gettin’ braver.
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ain’t no Gentleman Jim."
Rubin could take a man out with just one punch
But he never did like to talk about it all that much.
It’s my work, he’d say, and I do it for pay
And when it’s over I’d just as soon go on my way
Up to some paradise
Where the trout streams flow and the air is nice
And ride a horse along a trail.
But then they took him to the jailhouse
Where they try to turn a man into a mouse.
All of Rubin’s cards were marked in advance
The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance.
The judge made Rubin’s witnesses drunkards from the slums
To the white folks who watched he was a revolutionary bum
And to the black folks he was just a crazy nigger.
No one doubted that he pulled the trigger.
And though they could not produce the gun,
The D.A. said he was the one who did the deed
And the all-white jury agreed.
Rubin Carter was falsely tried.
The crime was murder "one," guess who testified?
Bello and Bradley and they both baldly lied
And the newspapers, they all went along for the ride.
How can the life of such a man
Be in the palm of some fool’s hand?
To see him obviously framed
Couldn’t help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land
Where justice is a game.
Now all the criminals in their coats and their ties
Are free to drink martinis and watch the sun rise
While Rubin sits like Buddha in a ten-foot cell
An innocent man in a living hell.
That’s the story of the Hurricane,
But it won’t be over till they clear his name
And give him back the time he’s done.
Put in a prison cell, but one time he could-a been
The champion of the world.
Bob Dylan Hurricane - 1975 Ram’s Horn Music
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