Dear Eunice,
I am writing this letter to Eunice, not to Nina Simone, not to the
“monster" who broke free from the body of the invisible prison under the
name of "Nina Simone". I'm writing this to you, Eunice Waymon, my
longtime colleague, friend, and sister.
I first met you in a bar in Philadelphia. You were still a
young girl, nervous yet excited for playing the piano and singing at the bar. I
offered to accompany for you. My other friends laughed at me for accompanying
your piano, but I didn’t care. I still remember you looking at me uncertainly,
and said “you better make this work”, and I said “don’t worry, I’m ready.” You
had a successful career, and I’m glad I was next to you when you shone on
stage. But I valued the times when you were on the stage. We talked about the
lyrics of Mississippi Goddam, and I remember trying to persuade you to not sing
the song. But you persisted, and I admired you for it. For speaking up when no
other man in your race dared to speak up. Later in the civil rights movement, I
chose not to play by your side to avoid criticisms against you for allying with
the white. But you knew I would stand by your side forever, my sister Eunice.
With love.