J.

J. is one of two African Americans in a very awkward ceremony to commemorate John Henry, a famous black folk hero. He is a New York journalist, but he's going into the situation half-heartedly, knowing that his article will short and that he could probably finish it with only basic superficial knowledge. The environment is painfully artificial. There appears to be some genuine effort to bring the building into some semblance of antebellum grandeur, but resistance against modernity is futile. The people at the ceremony are basically divided into two groups: locals and outsiders. Locals adhere themselves to their familiars in a blue-ribbon display of Southern Hospitality, and the visitors either chat amongst themselves or avoid eye contact in an attempt to appear content with solitude. Basically, no one is taking interest in the ceremony itself. It is merely a formality that goes along with the artificial affirmation of African American heritage.