 The blues grew up as property. The blues grew up in Nat Turner visions. The blues grew up in Harriet Tubman courage. The blues grew up in small town deprivation. The blues grew up in big city isolation. The blues grew up in the nightmares of the white man. The blues grew up in the blues singing of Bessie and Billy and Ma. The blues grew up in Satchmo's horn, on Duke's piano, in Langston's poetry, on Robeson's baritone. The point is that the blues has grown.