Ferguson Soul Release
Pastor John P. Kee at Harris-Stowe State University
Tuesday, April 21, 2014, St. Louis, MO.
The collective soul of Ferguson, St. Louis, and those
visiting from London, England, all simultaneously released a mighty praise in
their spirit.
On a balmy April Monday night, in the middle of St. Louis, at
the only Historically Black College and University in the Gateway City, something
wonderful happened.
Billed as a free concert to conclude the week-long
celebration of the inauguration of the 19th president, this event
quickly became a worship service after the atmosphere was set by the four
previous acts, including one from Ferguson, MO.
The auditorium erupted in thunderous praise, jumps from
seats, hands in the air, shouts of “hallelujah” where just three days prior, an
installation service had taken place with visiting dignitaries from other
universities, faculty and staff were in their regalia. Those very same seats
were filled to capacity, even the balcony was filled, with people from the metropolitan
area who needed something bigger than a DOJ report, they needed a praise.
When the curtain was closed on the last opening act and the
mistress of ceremony was sending out the crew with boxes and boxes of CDs, the
excitement in the air was contagious, people could not stay in their seats.
It was more than anticipation for Pastor John P. Kee, it was something else,
that something else was the deliverance the city was crying out for, the thing
that needed to happen.
Pastor Kee, of course, met and exceeded every expectation
with his anointed voice and the background singers who knew how to sing in the
African American protestant traditions, of all denominations He sang old
familiars, his “grandmother” songs and kept promising the “young folk” in the
balcony that he hadn’t forgot them.
He came differently. He rode a bus with a busted knee,
camouflaged behind his draped keyboard and podium, he came as a Pastor who
happened to sing. He came to bring something.
The songs were more than songs, people were dancing for their
freedom, freedom from the daily reports of yet another black man in chains or
morgue, from the daily injustices of being black and poor and black and just
black in a Midwest city, they danced in their seats, some took to the aisles,
others ran, the Spirit would not let them be still.
John P. Kee came with more. He left it all on that stage and
still came with more.
In the middle of praise, he would call over one of the
singers, point to someone in the audience, and she would run out, touch that
person, slipping something in their hands.
No one really knew what was happening until that gift was
just what that person needed, he was so seamless and conspicuous about what he
was doing. The audience had already had some members receive some free CDs,
part of the warm up activities for the concert that started at 7pm. Pastor Kee
came on a little after 8pm. The crowd was in eager anticipation.
By the time the evening came to what some thought was an end,
Pastor Kee, one who does not take a salary from his North Carolina church, had
given out what is in this writer’s estimate, over $2000 in cash, had handed out
1,452 CDs 
He told his record company that he was giving them away, a
conservative estimate is valued at $14,000. Kee delivered, sang to exhaustion,
and ministered “new life” to the packed crowd. He came to do something radical.
One of his ministerial colleagues was also in the giving of
CDs. Over 300 copies of Rev. Arthur T. Jones project was also placed in the
hands of the people, valued conservatively at $3000, it is quickly surmised that
neither was making money off the people.
He had a shepherd’s heart and had opened the stage for some young
singers, calling them by section, when he called for ten and twenty ran up, his
gracious nature let them on. He created the John P. Kee/Harris-Stowe State
University Gospel Choir in that instant. While he had his singers work with
their section on the upcoming one or two songs, he ministered to the people.
Kee shared that the night before he was in concert in North
Carolina and that they drove through the night He commended the university for
the warm reception, noted that he had permission from the President to release
the spirit in that place where the unexpected is expected. He presented the President
with a framed note from him, accepted in his absence by the Provost, and when
the backup singers were ready, they erupted in thunderous praise.
The night seemed to be just what the beleaguered community of
black St. Louisians needed to not only recognize their trauma, grief, and hurt
over the death of Michael Brown, Jr on August 9, 2014, but to also recognize
that this thing went way back. Kee, a southern African American gospel singer
and pastor, understood that oppression and tapped right into what was needed.
It was Kee’s vocation as a pastor that brought him to St.
Louis.
He called on one of his contacts at “3 o’clock in the
morning” and told her he needed to come to the Ferguson area. His contact made
it happen. Kee, without naming names, made brief mention of his rules for the
concert and that some well-known gospel artists would not come. Kee would not
allow any of the artists to sell their CDs. He came of his own accord, paid his
musicians and singers, and insisted on giving away music.
Kee brought his full band and musicians, as well as floral
gifts for some of the organizers, recognition and gifts to the university, the
audience, and even had an old-fashioned giving session for the sound man who
drove all night to be there. People poured out of their seats to be a blessing
to someone else.
By the time the hour reached well past 11, Kee was still
ministering and the audience was still packed, still soaking it in, from the
young children he called on stage to dance to the elder bishop he recognized as
being out of his sick bed. Key came to bring something.
He didn’t allow cameras, he didn’t come for that. There was
only one student journalist there and even he turned his camera off when Kee
made that request. It became church in there.
The night was so spirit-filled that he ended his concert by
calling all the pastors on the stage, about thirty made their way down the
aisles and stood behind him, Kee continuing to play on his keyboard, his
helpers, some were family members, had already given out boxes and boxes of
CDs, the energy in the room palatable, people out of their seats, and then he
did something else
He ministered to the deep place, the hurt place of the community
He pastored and made an altar call. They came, more and more and more came from
the seats, from the balcony, from the standing room only, they came. Kee then
handed the mic to one of the pastors, a local bishop who had been active in the
Ferguson community, opening his church up for meetings, and asked him to pray.
Bishop prayed for the people, and understanding the hour, was able to hit the
need without keeping the now congregation in the building well past the hour.
John P. Kee came to Ferguson, St Louis to do something that
hadn’t been done, to minister to the community, to bring healing for souls that
had been hurting for years. He brought tangible gifts and while that was
exciting, he brought so much more. Even the people who he had “just paid their
water bill,” came running to the front to return a portion of it. That being
more blessed to give than receive was in full demonstration.
As the pastors and congregants were leaving the stage, he
told us to go and tell the story He shouted out his personal email address and
asked for the writers to answer the call, to tell what happened.
Souls released at Harris-Stowe State University. Tonight, the
church was outside the four walls, just where it needed to be. Something
changed tonight and as he paid homage to the late Walter Hawkins by singing
this signature anthem of African American believers, he ended his concert with
hope and life.It all happened on a balmy Monday night in April, at a little
college campus, a black college in the middle of a city wrestling with its
racial divide, a little something special took place at Harris-Stowe State
University. Now run and go tell that.
Tayé Foster Bradshaw
Find John P. Kee on twitter @keetwit and on Facebook at
facebook/JOHNPKEE
Tayé Foster Bradshaw, “Mama Tayé” is a wife, mother, writer,
speaker, activist, facilitator, and consultant. Writing under a pseudonym in
honor of her beloved late parents, she resides in a suburb of St Louis and has
been active in the Ferguson movement since Day Two. Find her on twitter
@lattegriot or on Google + or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/TayeFosterBradshawGroup.
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