Even though I was no where near the war in Europe, I knew that there was a serious crisis going on. I did not know what the word “crisis” meant but I knew something was wrong, At age five in 1939, when Germany declared war on Poland and the surrounding countries (this is hindsight) we, in the West Indian Island of Grenada were terrified. At that time, Grenada was dependant on Great Britain for everything, including the Governor, high officials and especially imported goods.
On September, 1939 guns were fired from Fort St. George alerting Grenadian that war was declared. That was World Ward II. It was announced on the radio but not every household owned one; so cars with bullhorns went through the streets informing people. I saw my parents crying, and they told us it would be dangerous to smell the gun powder. I remember going though the house smelling the curtains and beds and did not smell anything. I did not know what gun power smelt like and I as frightened.
Later on, I knew that my parents did not realize what impact the war would have on that poor island. Gradually I saw imported foods getting scarcer and scarcer when I was sent to the shops. That agricultural island depended on staples like rice, flour, dairy products (butter from Australia), dried fruit, cloth, machinery, vehicles, building materials, and many other imported goods.
In 1941, when Germany invaded England, the situation became more critical as ships bringing goods to the Caribbean islands were torpedoed by enemy subs. I remember a frightening event in 1942; an excursion schooner left from Grenada for St. Vincent, a neighboring island, but unfortunately never arrived there. All sixty six passengers were unaccounted for. A family friend lost three children in that disaster. My bother was spared, as he was supposed to go also but did not have the money for the trip.
I did not understand much at that time, but all eight of us went to school as usual. We read the newspaper to get all the latest news and we were advised to lessen the light at night so enemy planes would not see the island. My father painted the windows dark green or black, whatever color he could find. I still did not understand the seriousness of the war.
The education system depended on the Cambridge exams set for oversees students in high school so they might matriculate and go to college. Of course that was for those who could not afford it. The student wrote their exams at the end of December and said that the papers would be sent to England to be corrected. On occasion, the ships carrying the papers had sunk. So the students were forced to rewrite their test. I remember my brother and sister writing two copies after that on foolscap, so they would have copies if the need arose.
When I became a Brownie, we were asked to collect aluminum foil which we called “silver paper”, I learned the word “aluminum foil” when I came to the country. The “silver paper” came from cigarette and chocolate boxes. I suppose the paper was recycled to help in building planes and machinery. I saw older women knitting socks and blankets for the soldiers at the front.
We just knew that we had to substitute the staples with vegetables from the garden. Once in a while a boat would get through bringing flour, rice and cooking oil. Those were doled out sparingly. Mama would save flour for the Christmas cake and gradually collect the necessary ingredients for Christmas. All year we looked forward to that time when we feasted on foods not available during the year. We maintained the Christmas tradition during the war years we what we had. The spirit was high with going to church, singing carols, visiting neighbors and especially eating. We all enjoyed in spite of the disasters overseas.
In the early forties, I remember women enlisting in a military program called ATS. I believe it stood for Auxiliary Training Service, and the other British islands participated in the program. They were sent overseas for training. There was a similar military program for male soldiers, but I don’t remember what it was called. I believe that the function was to protect the people if it was necessary.
The Grenada Government built barracks for the soldiers in an area near the beach that had a flat pasture. They concreted it so the soldiers could march and train. It was off limits to the public, but when my sisters took me for a walk, we could go in the vicinity of the camp to look at the soldiers march. When the war was over, they gradually returned home, although some remained as a precaution in case they were needed. The barracks were then used for secondary schools, and I think that some of them are still there today.
Before the end of the war, two of my older sisters got married and moved away. The six of us adjusted to their absence and continued to substitute the staples for the vegetables grown there like breadfruit, corn, yams, peas and bananas. We raised chickens, had a goat and a cow for milk, but we only ate meat on Sunday and fish during the week.
The war lasted six years. During tat time I could not comprehend that Japan was involved also, but not until 1945 when VJ day was celebrated. Schools were given a holiday, and treats of cake and soda pop were given to each child. That was the first time I drank a bottle of “sweet drink” or soda pop by myself. What a treat!
After three months, victory in Europe was celebrated the same way as VJ day, another treat and everyone was happy. Soon we would go back to normal life when imported goods arrived. Then we did not have the fear we had experienced throughout six years of World War II.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
My Faith by Sylvia Suescun
Mama always taught us that you must trust God no matter what and that having faith and God would take care of all of our needs. However, this did not mean that you sit back and do nothing.
After working for the City of New York as an activity Therapist for about thirty years, I had contemplated retirement. Daddy always said that you must allow time in your life for your own self development. Each of my brothers developed businesses of their own. Herbert developed a flight school in Maryland and Edward extended his real estate business on Capital Hill in Washington D.C after they retired.
After my retirement I was aware that my monthly income was just about one half of what I had lived off of previously to cover my living expenses, With this income I was able to travel some and got by without any great problems. However, I had not amassed a great savings either, since much of my money was used for frequent vacation and other extras as needed.
I retired in 1998, in 1990 my sister and I discussed the decline of our parent’s health. Daddy had just returned from a trip to California to assist with “Little Edddie”, a six foot tall football coach, his first grandson. When he had suffered his first small stroke, while driving to the super market his ear hand ran off the road. Daddy said that there must have been some mechanical failure. His car was totaled of course, the next day and Daddy purchased another car, which was a blue 1985 Pontiac Bonneville. This was love at first sight for Daddy. This really became a problem after a while when it was time for Daddy to give up driving.
Well at this point, along with Mama, sister and I decided to be close by to keep an eye on the day today going on with our parents, Florence and I decided that we would alternate months living in the house with our ninety some year parents. I traveled from NY and my sister just moved from her house in D. C in to our parent’s house.
One day when it was my month to be in my home in Brooklyn, I think that I was still in bed around 10 AM one morning when the phone rang and it was Jennifer, one of my nephew’s friends in show business. Jennifer said “Aunt Sylvia would you be interested in playing a part of a grandmother for a TV commercial”. Her agent J.M Bloom was looking for older people to audition for this large Hallmark Commercial to introduce their 100th birthday cards. This was something that I had never done before and agreed to try it. Jennifer set up the appointment with her agent and I went for the audition. It was indeed an interesting and fun experience except to experience something new.
At the casting agent’s office, there were many people waiting. After filling out special information and having a Polaroid picture taken, I was called into a room with three other people. We were told to stand on the “mark” which was gaffers tape on the floor and then someone said “slate” and the casting people asked each of us our names and something about our selves. I think I remember saying that I enjoyed traveling. This was being video taped. After, this audition I just thought that I had fun and enjoyed meeting so many new people.
In the meantime it became my month to return to D.C to do help my Aunt’s Godmother and just then did I receive a call from my nephew stating that my agent had called and that I had a call back to audition. I really had to decide whether I wanted to spend the extra money to run back up to NYC for a day for this call back. My family encouraged me to go for it and take the chance. So I took the early morning metabolism and arrived just in time for the second audition.
This time there were many people in the audition room. I was offended because some of the people doing the audition were eating lunch. As you know, this kind of behavior would be unacceptable if you were being interviewed or interviewing for other jobs. After the interview, I returned to D.C on the same day. After being in D.C a day or time my agent called again to tell me that I was hired for the commercial.
After signing the contracts, I sent to some place in lower Manhattan for a wardrobe. They liked my audition outfit and only added a hat. I had to leave my entire outfit including shoes with them.
Oh yes, this was a large commercial. This commercial was filmed in Brooklyn and I had to report to the set about four days in a row. This commercial was introduced around Thanksgiving and shown with all of the Hallmark Hall of Fame shows and this was shown nationally. Each time the show aired I received phone calls from family and friends from all over the country.
This was an all black cast and it ran from 1990 to 1996. Our commercial was sometimes sown on the Today Show when they honored birthdays of 100 years old people.
In June 1991, my Godmother/ Aunt passed away suddenly while sitting on her front porch.
I was in D.C. at that time and we talked on the telephone that morning but could not complete our little chit chat because she had company. She happily told me that her visitor was dressed in a pretty pink outfit and that we could talk later. Aunt Gertrude’s Daddy’s younger sister was currently the president of her Senior Citizen’s group and very active at age eighty six.
She was a childless widow who lived alone in a well ordered house surrounded by a well kept yard with rose bushes and many other plants. When she opened her front door her house sparked.
She just loved to entertain her family. There were seven nieces and nephews and whenever we or anyone came to visit she would service whatever she had in her best crystal and China. The dessert might have been her special coconut cake or a dry box cookie but always served with style.
I was shocked when my cousin called and said she was ill and rushed to the hospital by the ambulance. My sister I hurried over to the hospital by ambulance. My sister and I hurried over to the hospital where we saw our cousin Herbert looking like a lost like a lost little bag. On our way to the hospital my sister and I explored ways of how we could care for the three, Mamma, Daddy and Gertrude.
The doctor called us in a room, my sister, my cousin Herbert and me and gave us the news.
My cousin Herbert said to me that my Aunt said that if she had any problems to call “Sylvia”. Aunt Gertrude had never talked to me about her business, all tough she had put my name on her bank accounts.
Although, she had set up forums regarding estate planning and wills for her senior group she had not signed her own will. There were seven heirs to my aunt’s estates all first cousins and of course I had to engage a lawyer. The young lawyer was a friend who helped me get the probate started but later had to give up our probate because he went to work at the D.C. Courts in the probate area. Since there would have been conflict of interest all of the work that he had completed for me was done Pro Bona and he also gave me step by step institution for completing the probate myself.
All of the fees and taxes needed for this entire process were paid with money made from Hallmark Commercial. I never had to ask any of the heirs for a cent of money during the six years.
The probate was settled in 1996 and I received my last residual after there was no need for the extra money. Both my Aunt and my parents enjoyed seeing me on TV before their deaths.
God gave me the resources to do what I had to do before I was aware that I would have such a need. I am indeed thankful for God, who certainly did supply all of my needs.
After working for the City of New York as an activity Therapist for about thirty years, I had contemplated retirement. Daddy always said that you must allow time in your life for your own self development. Each of my brothers developed businesses of their own. Herbert developed a flight school in Maryland and Edward extended his real estate business on Capital Hill in Washington D.C after they retired.
After my retirement I was aware that my monthly income was just about one half of what I had lived off of previously to cover my living expenses, With this income I was able to travel some and got by without any great problems. However, I had not amassed a great savings either, since much of my money was used for frequent vacation and other extras as needed.
I retired in 1998, in 1990 my sister and I discussed the decline of our parent’s health. Daddy had just returned from a trip to California to assist with “Little Edddie”, a six foot tall football coach, his first grandson. When he had suffered his first small stroke, while driving to the super market his ear hand ran off the road. Daddy said that there must have been some mechanical failure. His car was totaled of course, the next day and Daddy purchased another car, which was a blue 1985 Pontiac Bonneville. This was love at first sight for Daddy. This really became a problem after a while when it was time for Daddy to give up driving.
Well at this point, along with Mama, sister and I decided to be close by to keep an eye on the day today going on with our parents, Florence and I decided that we would alternate months living in the house with our ninety some year parents. I traveled from NY and my sister just moved from her house in D. C in to our parent’s house.
One day when it was my month to be in my home in Brooklyn, I think that I was still in bed around 10 AM one morning when the phone rang and it was Jennifer, one of my nephew’s friends in show business. Jennifer said “Aunt Sylvia would you be interested in playing a part of a grandmother for a TV commercial”. Her agent J.M Bloom was looking for older people to audition for this large Hallmark Commercial to introduce their 100th birthday cards. This was something that I had never done before and agreed to try it. Jennifer set up the appointment with her agent and I went for the audition. It was indeed an interesting and fun experience except to experience something new.
At the casting agent’s office, there were many people waiting. After filling out special information and having a Polaroid picture taken, I was called into a room with three other people. We were told to stand on the “mark” which was gaffers tape on the floor and then someone said “slate” and the casting people asked each of us our names and something about our selves. I think I remember saying that I enjoyed traveling. This was being video taped. After, this audition I just thought that I had fun and enjoyed meeting so many new people.
In the meantime it became my month to return to D.C to do help my Aunt’s Godmother and just then did I receive a call from my nephew stating that my agent had called and that I had a call back to audition. I really had to decide whether I wanted to spend the extra money to run back up to NYC for a day for this call back. My family encouraged me to go for it and take the chance. So I took the early morning metabolism and arrived just in time for the second audition.
This time there were many people in the audition room. I was offended because some of the people doing the audition were eating lunch. As you know, this kind of behavior would be unacceptable if you were being interviewed or interviewing for other jobs. After the interview, I returned to D.C on the same day. After being in D.C a day or time my agent called again to tell me that I was hired for the commercial.
After signing the contracts, I sent to some place in lower Manhattan for a wardrobe. They liked my audition outfit and only added a hat. I had to leave my entire outfit including shoes with them.
Oh yes, this was a large commercial. This commercial was filmed in Brooklyn and I had to report to the set about four days in a row. This commercial was introduced around Thanksgiving and shown with all of the Hallmark Hall of Fame shows and this was shown nationally. Each time the show aired I received phone calls from family and friends from all over the country.
This was an all black cast and it ran from 1990 to 1996. Our commercial was sometimes sown on the Today Show when they honored birthdays of 100 years old people.
In June 1991, my Godmother/ Aunt passed away suddenly while sitting on her front porch.
I was in D.C. at that time and we talked on the telephone that morning but could not complete our little chit chat because she had company. She happily told me that her visitor was dressed in a pretty pink outfit and that we could talk later. Aunt Gertrude’s Daddy’s younger sister was currently the president of her Senior Citizen’s group and very active at age eighty six.
She was a childless widow who lived alone in a well ordered house surrounded by a well kept yard with rose bushes and many other plants. When she opened her front door her house sparked.
She just loved to entertain her family. There were seven nieces and nephews and whenever we or anyone came to visit she would service whatever she had in her best crystal and China. The dessert might have been her special coconut cake or a dry box cookie but always served with style.
I was shocked when my cousin called and said she was ill and rushed to the hospital by the ambulance. My sister I hurried over to the hospital by ambulance. My sister and I hurried over to the hospital where we saw our cousin Herbert looking like a lost like a lost little bag. On our way to the hospital my sister and I explored ways of how we could care for the three, Mamma, Daddy and Gertrude.
The doctor called us in a room, my sister, my cousin Herbert and me and gave us the news.
My cousin Herbert said to me that my Aunt said that if she had any problems to call “Sylvia”. Aunt Gertrude had never talked to me about her business, all tough she had put my name on her bank accounts.
Although, she had set up forums regarding estate planning and wills for her senior group she had not signed her own will. There were seven heirs to my aunt’s estates all first cousins and of course I had to engage a lawyer. The young lawyer was a friend who helped me get the probate started but later had to give up our probate because he went to work at the D.C. Courts in the probate area. Since there would have been conflict of interest all of the work that he had completed for me was done Pro Bona and he also gave me step by step institution for completing the probate myself.
All of the fees and taxes needed for this entire process were paid with money made from Hallmark Commercial. I never had to ask any of the heirs for a cent of money during the six years.
The probate was settled in 1996 and I received my last residual after there was no need for the extra money. Both my Aunt and my parents enjoyed seeing me on TV before their deaths.
God gave me the resources to do what I had to do before I was aware that I would have such a need. I am indeed thankful for God, who certainly did supply all of my needs.
Aunt Florida by Ernie Jackson
Aunt Florida was my mother’s second oldest sister. Aunt Florida and her second husband Joshua Williams was an interesting couple. They lived in a quaint little cottage with a decorative fieldstone front. As often as grandmother would allow, we would spend a night with Aunt Florida and Uncle Josh. Aunt Florida raised turkeys, chickens, guineas, hogs and cows. (The stone front of the house still stands even though it has not been occupied for thirty years. The water from the well was always cool and satisfying as was most of the well in Menifee.
On one of our stay over nights, we discovered that Uncle Josh could crack hickory nuts with his teeth. We (my siblings and I) would find hickory nuts on the ground and line up for Uncle Josh to place the seam of the hickory nut on his molars and crack down on it breaking in into smaller pieces so we could pick out the nut meats and eat them. There were any old wild plum thickets. We would pick plums to eat, can or make preserves, or Aunt Florida would make one of Uncle Josh’s favorite desserts, a “trashy” fruit cobbler. The trash in the cobbler would be pieces of cinnamon bark, coarsely grated nutmeg, whole cloves, with plenty of flaky pastry, sugar and butter. The trashy fruit cobblers were not limited to any particular fruit. Apples, Apricots, blackberries, dewberries, peaches and pears would be used individually or in a mixture. Aunt Florida was known for her tomato pies. She always wanted a little something sweet after dinner.
To keep us entertained she and Uncle Josh would take us fishing. They make fishing poles so each of us would have a pole with which to fish with. Preparation for the fishing trip always included digging for bait, earthworms or sometimes grub worms. Our reactions to the worms provoked lots of laughter from Aunt Florida and Uncle Josh. My mother’s children were the only grandchildren in the family for quite a few years. This gave us unique status in the Hines family.
Dinner preparation usually started in the garden. One of her favorite meals in season was new potatoes and English peas in cream sauce with cornbread or biscuits and always milk, cool and sweet or buttermilk, sweet milk that had soured and been churned. Aunt Florida had been to “normal” training school for two years and usually taught during the school season. She never missed a chance to be sure we understood the inner workings of “things” and that verb subject agreement was incorporated in our speech. Good times with Aunt Florida and Uncle Josh ended in 1937. We moved to our farm in 1938.
Aunt Florida was a woman who wanted to be financially able to provide things she considered to be necessities such as a car, a farm, and a few new things to water. To that end shoe would do whatever days work she could find such as chopping or picking cotton, picking strawberries or doing a days work in the home of people who could afford it. Uncle Josh died sometime in the forties while I was away in College. There is a saying in the family that Aunt Florida divorced the odd husbands and buried the even ones. A few months after Josh’s burial Aunt Florida went to Kansas City, Kansas to live with Aunt Margie, the third daughter born in the Hines family, to seek work. While there she met a “gentlemen” known to his peers as Crook Jackson. She accumulated a few dollars and returned to Menifee with Crook, her third husband. Crook hadn’t found any work and wasn’t doing what he could to help raise food. Verbally, shoe gave him a brow-beating. His anger spilled over and he resorted to violence. She came to tell the Hines clan and the search was on. Aunt Margie and Uncle Cliff went to Aunt Florida’s looking for Crook but he was gone.
Somehow, Crook knew he shouldn’t be there when she got back. He told the neighbors he was going to Morrilton, Arkansas to catch a bus to Kansas City. They drove to Morrilton to confront him but he wasn’t there. He had gone to Conway, Arkansas south to Menifee to catch the bus. They were foxed. Husband number three was divorced.
Aunt Florida then moved to North Little Rock, Arkansas. She was able to find a house she could rent. She found work. She was frugal. She saved her money and bought a lot. She bought a second hand truck and with it she would scout the area looking for good lumber in old houses being torn down and any bathroom fixtures that could be salvaged. During these searches she met her fourth husband to be, Robert Floyd, a carpenter. She hired him to be a carpenter. They began to build a house on the lot she bought. By the time the house was nearly finished they got married and moved into the house.
Aunt Florida returned to College to finish her college degree on a part-time basis. It took her quite a few years to finish going part-time. Meanwhile, she would buy additional lots and both of them would scout for good old lumber and bathroom and kitchen fixtures. This process continued until they had built four houses including one they lived in. By this time grandmother had her first stroke but rallied rather quickly. Aunt Florida was the only free aunt who could actually go to the home and be there to take care of grandmother. Mama always told Papa she could not leave those boys and her husband. After more strokes and more years of interference with her time, Aunt Florida let it be known that she thought it was unfair for her to be the only child spending time taking care of grandmother. Aunt Margie agreed and came down to spend weeks being nurse maid. Aunt Val could only come in the summertime so she sent them (the grandparents) forty dollars a month.
By now she and Robert had moved into an acquired home that needed a great deal of hard work even though Robert wasn’t feeling too good most of the time. The home was supposed to represent suburbia in a way that gave Aunt Florida time to return to her roots. She raised chickens and guineas and kept a couple of goats to mow the lawn. She had a huge St. Bernard dog named Bobo. Grandmother died in September of 1957 after 57 years of marriage. Aunt Florida was now free to take care of Uncle Robert.
Even though Aunt Florida was busy taking care of her husband, she continued to look out for real estate bargains. They bought one more house before Uncle Robert died. By now Aunt Florida was dubbed by her siblings the “real estate tycoon”, she enjoyed the title. Her dress style and other personal facts would never suggest to anyone that she was any kind of tycoon. She was one out of five that Papa had learned he would not be able to turn into a lady.
In 1938 I purchased the little stone faced cottage from Aunt Florida that gave me so many pleasant childhood memories. As she aged and had accidents, (driving with advanced arthritis) she began to sell off the properties one by one and invest the money. She sold the suburban property and moved back to Little Rock when the neighbors demonstrated to her that they would collect her eggs, catch her chickens and enter her home for whatever they could find during her absence. She loved Amanda’s children and remembered all of them in her will. She had her favorites. All nieces and nephews were included and a favorite first cousin. She is still fondly remembered by us all.
On one of our stay over nights, we discovered that Uncle Josh could crack hickory nuts with his teeth. We (my siblings and I) would find hickory nuts on the ground and line up for Uncle Josh to place the seam of the hickory nut on his molars and crack down on it breaking in into smaller pieces so we could pick out the nut meats and eat them. There were any old wild plum thickets. We would pick plums to eat, can or make preserves, or Aunt Florida would make one of Uncle Josh’s favorite desserts, a “trashy” fruit cobbler. The trash in the cobbler would be pieces of cinnamon bark, coarsely grated nutmeg, whole cloves, with plenty of flaky pastry, sugar and butter. The trashy fruit cobblers were not limited to any particular fruit. Apples, Apricots, blackberries, dewberries, peaches and pears would be used individually or in a mixture. Aunt Florida was known for her tomato pies. She always wanted a little something sweet after dinner.
To keep us entertained she and Uncle Josh would take us fishing. They make fishing poles so each of us would have a pole with which to fish with. Preparation for the fishing trip always included digging for bait, earthworms or sometimes grub worms. Our reactions to the worms provoked lots of laughter from Aunt Florida and Uncle Josh. My mother’s children were the only grandchildren in the family for quite a few years. This gave us unique status in the Hines family.
Dinner preparation usually started in the garden. One of her favorite meals in season was new potatoes and English peas in cream sauce with cornbread or biscuits and always milk, cool and sweet or buttermilk, sweet milk that had soured and been churned. Aunt Florida had been to “normal” training school for two years and usually taught during the school season. She never missed a chance to be sure we understood the inner workings of “things” and that verb subject agreement was incorporated in our speech. Good times with Aunt Florida and Uncle Josh ended in 1937. We moved to our farm in 1938.
Aunt Florida was a woman who wanted to be financially able to provide things she considered to be necessities such as a car, a farm, and a few new things to water. To that end shoe would do whatever days work she could find such as chopping or picking cotton, picking strawberries or doing a days work in the home of people who could afford it. Uncle Josh died sometime in the forties while I was away in College. There is a saying in the family that Aunt Florida divorced the odd husbands and buried the even ones. A few months after Josh’s burial Aunt Florida went to Kansas City, Kansas to live with Aunt Margie, the third daughter born in the Hines family, to seek work. While there she met a “gentlemen” known to his peers as Crook Jackson. She accumulated a few dollars and returned to Menifee with Crook, her third husband. Crook hadn’t found any work and wasn’t doing what he could to help raise food. Verbally, shoe gave him a brow-beating. His anger spilled over and he resorted to violence. She came to tell the Hines clan and the search was on. Aunt Margie and Uncle Cliff went to Aunt Florida’s looking for Crook but he was gone.
Somehow, Crook knew he shouldn’t be there when she got back. He told the neighbors he was going to Morrilton, Arkansas to catch a bus to Kansas City. They drove to Morrilton to confront him but he wasn’t there. He had gone to Conway, Arkansas south to Menifee to catch the bus. They were foxed. Husband number three was divorced.
Aunt Florida then moved to North Little Rock, Arkansas. She was able to find a house she could rent. She found work. She was frugal. She saved her money and bought a lot. She bought a second hand truck and with it she would scout the area looking for good lumber in old houses being torn down and any bathroom fixtures that could be salvaged. During these searches she met her fourth husband to be, Robert Floyd, a carpenter. She hired him to be a carpenter. They began to build a house on the lot she bought. By the time the house was nearly finished they got married and moved into the house.
Aunt Florida returned to College to finish her college degree on a part-time basis. It took her quite a few years to finish going part-time. Meanwhile, she would buy additional lots and both of them would scout for good old lumber and bathroom and kitchen fixtures. This process continued until they had built four houses including one they lived in. By this time grandmother had her first stroke but rallied rather quickly. Aunt Florida was the only free aunt who could actually go to the home and be there to take care of grandmother. Mama always told Papa she could not leave those boys and her husband. After more strokes and more years of interference with her time, Aunt Florida let it be known that she thought it was unfair for her to be the only child spending time taking care of grandmother. Aunt Margie agreed and came down to spend weeks being nurse maid. Aunt Val could only come in the summertime so she sent them (the grandparents) forty dollars a month.
By now she and Robert had moved into an acquired home that needed a great deal of hard work even though Robert wasn’t feeling too good most of the time. The home was supposed to represent suburbia in a way that gave Aunt Florida time to return to her roots. She raised chickens and guineas and kept a couple of goats to mow the lawn. She had a huge St. Bernard dog named Bobo. Grandmother died in September of 1957 after 57 years of marriage. Aunt Florida was now free to take care of Uncle Robert.
Even though Aunt Florida was busy taking care of her husband, she continued to look out for real estate bargains. They bought one more house before Uncle Robert died. By now Aunt Florida was dubbed by her siblings the “real estate tycoon”, she enjoyed the title. Her dress style and other personal facts would never suggest to anyone that she was any kind of tycoon. She was one out of five that Papa had learned he would not be able to turn into a lady.
In 1938 I purchased the little stone faced cottage from Aunt Florida that gave me so many pleasant childhood memories. As she aged and had accidents, (driving with advanced arthritis) she began to sell off the properties one by one and invest the money. She sold the suburban property and moved back to Little Rock when the neighbors demonstrated to her that they would collect her eggs, catch her chickens and enter her home for whatever they could find during her absence. She loved Amanda’s children and remembered all of them in her will. She had her favorites. All nieces and nephews were included and a favorite first cousin. She is still fondly remembered by us all.
Because My Mother Said So by Edith Rock
The tale begins in a darkened balcony of the local theater on a weekday afternoon in 1931. Four teenage girls, including me, are gazing wistfully at the screen below watching Rhet Butler dismiss a Scarlet but frankly, my dear, I don’t give a dam. He was so handsome and I envied his crystal blue eyes. My friends and I were lost in the rapture of Gone with the Wind, when suddenly our attention shifts to the aisle seat where an usher is whispering a message from the school principal to return to his office.
We scrambled our way out of the dark, forthwith and headed out as ordered. We knew we were headed for trouble called “playing hooky”. Getting caught at this game was no small matter. But then again, in my way of thinking (even then), it depends on how you define hooky.
According to the dictionary hooky means: absent without leave. That’s it, it was off the hook. My mother, I thought would handle this. After all, I had asked and she had given permission or rather the “Ok”, saying “I guess it won’t hurt to be absent from school for one afternoon”. Therefore, I was not absent without leave. Then I got to wondering about how she would handle it. She was not what we call today, an involved parent: one who stays on top of school affairs by showing up in the building and attending parent association meetings. In her view, I was in a good school and schooling was a matter for me and the teachers to work out. Understand that we were living in a wealthy New Jersey town where colored folk were expected to know their place. Mother’s place was that of a servant, she prepared grand dinners in grand settings, where white people were her superiors. She was their servant and she acted accordingly, even allowing them to call her Hilda, which was not even her real name. Their children were my schoolmates but we stayed apart outside of class.
Of course the school principal was not grand in the same sense but he was white with a white sense of superiority. I knew she knowingly differed to the people she worked for, so I wondered what her posture would be with the white principal. All this raced through my mind as we returned to school, shamefaced and scared.
I can’t remember the details of the intended punishment handed out by the principal. What I do remember is what happened the next day when my mother came to my school to see the principal.
She listened quietly as he explained his duty to discipline students for wrongdoing. When he finished Mother said very slowly and firmly “Now, let me tell you something. You can punish the others, but you will not punish Edith because I gave her permission to go the movies, yesterday”. In other words, she told the principal he had crossed the lines of authority.
And that was the end of that predicament. What a relief! Note, she never offered any explanation other than “because I said so”. The lesson I learned from this incident has served me throughout life. That is, don’t be afraid to question authority.
We scrambled our way out of the dark, forthwith and headed out as ordered. We knew we were headed for trouble called “playing hooky”. Getting caught at this game was no small matter. But then again, in my way of thinking (even then), it depends on how you define hooky.
According to the dictionary hooky means: absent without leave. That’s it, it was off the hook. My mother, I thought would handle this. After all, I had asked and she had given permission or rather the “Ok”, saying “I guess it won’t hurt to be absent from school for one afternoon”. Therefore, I was not absent without leave. Then I got to wondering about how she would handle it. She was not what we call today, an involved parent: one who stays on top of school affairs by showing up in the building and attending parent association meetings. In her view, I was in a good school and schooling was a matter for me and the teachers to work out. Understand that we were living in a wealthy New Jersey town where colored folk were expected to know their place. Mother’s place was that of a servant, she prepared grand dinners in grand settings, where white people were her superiors. She was their servant and she acted accordingly, even allowing them to call her Hilda, which was not even her real name. Their children were my schoolmates but we stayed apart outside of class.
Of course the school principal was not grand in the same sense but he was white with a white sense of superiority. I knew she knowingly differed to the people she worked for, so I wondered what her posture would be with the white principal. All this raced through my mind as we returned to school, shamefaced and scared.
I can’t remember the details of the intended punishment handed out by the principal. What I do remember is what happened the next day when my mother came to my school to see the principal.
She listened quietly as he explained his duty to discipline students for wrongdoing. When he finished Mother said very slowly and firmly “Now, let me tell you something. You can punish the others, but you will not punish Edith because I gave her permission to go the movies, yesterday”. In other words, she told the principal he had crossed the lines of authority.
And that was the end of that predicament. What a relief! Note, she never offered any explanation other than “because I said so”. The lesson I learned from this incident has served me throughout life. That is, don’t be afraid to question authority.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Noah's Ark by Ernie
On a warm summer evening of my twelfth year, my mother and father and their five children finished their farm chores earlier than usual. The cows were milked and the chickens and pigs were fed. My mother prepared supper. We ate. Bathed and dressed and got into the mule drawn wagon to attend the third night of a revival series at Wampoo Baptist Church in England, Arkansas. The minister, whose name I have long since for gotten, chose Noah and his Ark for his sermon.
The minister had come to us from Little Rock, Arkansas. He was appropriately dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and a blue tie. During the worship and praise part of the service, he seemed preoccupied with the congregation. Our preacher occasionally took a large white handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed his forehead.
The sermon began with God telling Noah to build the Ark. God gave him measurements for an ark large enough to hold Noah’s family, his sons and their wives and children and male and female of every kind of animal. God instructed Noah that the ark was to be built of “goofy wood”. The minister continued with a question: Do you know what “goofy wood” is? He looked expectantly at the audience but did not wait for an answer. “Goof wood is cypress” he stated as a generous explosion of saliva sprayed from his mouth. As he turned his head from one side to the other to address everybody in church, all could see that he had four front upper teeth but none on either side. At this point, my brother George, the family Comedian, said to Flora and me, his sisters, “I think you could put a bridle on him”. The statement sent my sister and me into peals of pent up laughter. We were sitting directly behind our mother which meant we had to be on our best behavior.
“When the rains started, Noah called the cattle from a thousand hills”. The comedian then said, “Noah’s math is all messed up”. My sister and I, not recovered from the last commentary, are now flooded by tears of laughter instead of laughing out loud. The ushers proceeded in our direction and while we were crying they fanned us with their funeral parlor fans until the sermon was finished. My mother had a strained look on her face. By now I am sure she knew we were not crying in the spirit.
As we rode home that night in the wagon, ( the truck needed repairs) we were then able to laugh but it was too painful. About sixty-five years later, I noticed a painting on the wall of a dentist’s office of Noah and his sons building the ark. The sermon played again. Even today, when we gather as a family, we still remember about Noah and the his ark.
The minister had come to us from Little Rock, Arkansas. He was appropriately dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and a blue tie. During the worship and praise part of the service, he seemed preoccupied with the congregation. Our preacher occasionally took a large white handkerchief from his suit pocket and dabbed his forehead.
The sermon began with God telling Noah to build the Ark. God gave him measurements for an ark large enough to hold Noah’s family, his sons and their wives and children and male and female of every kind of animal. God instructed Noah that the ark was to be built of “goofy wood”. The minister continued with a question: Do you know what “goofy wood” is? He looked expectantly at the audience but did not wait for an answer. “Goof wood is cypress” he stated as a generous explosion of saliva sprayed from his mouth. As he turned his head from one side to the other to address everybody in church, all could see that he had four front upper teeth but none on either side. At this point, my brother George, the family Comedian, said to Flora and me, his sisters, “I think you could put a bridle on him”. The statement sent my sister and me into peals of pent up laughter. We were sitting directly behind our mother which meant we had to be on our best behavior.
“When the rains started, Noah called the cattle from a thousand hills”. The comedian then said, “Noah’s math is all messed up”. My sister and I, not recovered from the last commentary, are now flooded by tears of laughter instead of laughing out loud. The ushers proceeded in our direction and while we were crying they fanned us with their funeral parlor fans until the sermon was finished. My mother had a strained look on her face. By now I am sure she knew we were not crying in the spirit.
As we rode home that night in the wagon, ( the truck needed repairs) we were then able to laugh but it was too painful. About sixty-five years later, I noticed a painting on the wall of a dentist’s office of Noah and his sons building the ark. The sermon played again. Even today, when we gather as a family, we still remember about Noah and the his ark.
The Memory Fades Slowly by Martha
More than fifty years have passed since my high school days. Periodically I go back to my high school for different presentations and each time I look for any changes that might have been made.
One thing that remains the same in my memory is the very large auditorium and the stage with double curtains that remind you of Carnegie Hall or a Broadway stage. It was and still is very impressive.
Recently I went there to a Martin Luther King Jr. celebration and found out that the Olympic size pool was no longer there and the lunchroom was in the basement. During my three years there (I came from Jr. High) the lunchroom was on the top floor, fifth I think and the pool was in the basement.
I remember how the lunch bell would ring and you would have to get up all those stairs fast to avoid being on the end of a very long lunch line. On this particular day, I remember racing up the stairs, rushing in the lunch room with many others and getting in line. Suddenly I was accused by a male teacher. I did not know him and now I cannot even remember his name. “Get out of that line” he said “and go to the back. I saw you break into that line”. I was indignant, still breathing heavy after the race up the stairs. “I did not” I said, “You are a liar!” “What did you say” he said. By now a crowd was gathering and I was embarrassed while also feeling obliged to say something profound. “You are full of shit and you don’t eat regular either” I shot back; this was on of the hip street saying of the day. I was not one who used profanity normally, but now I was on stage. The teacher grabbed my arm and took me out of the line.
We went down to the principal’s office where Mr. Mole teacher told his story. My memory of the principal, Ms. Ficks was that of a Caucasian woman with crimped style waves in her hair (we use to call it crookinal (sp) waves, or was a cropped style? May be she was not even tall because at fifteen years of age, I was barely five feet, but I digress.
The teacher listened to Mr. Mole teacher’s version of the incident and then told me to go home and not come back unless my parent was with me. I even got the impression that Ms. Ficks was sorry that she cold not put me out of school permanently. (Remember I was fifteen). I was flabbergasted because I had not yet said a word. “Wait I said, is that the end of it? Don’t I get to tell my side o the story? That is not a sign of Democracy."
As memory fades, I can no longer clearly remember the names and faces of the teacher or the principal, but I will forever remember what the principal’s response was. “Young lady” she said as she straightened up to her full height, “If this (school) was not a democracy, you would not even be here”. And with that remark, she opened a door that I did not know existed and I found myself outside on the street.
I was stunned! What was she talking about? I would not even be there. It was not my grades. My grades were fine. I did not have a problem with tardiness. Then it hit me the letters R.A.C.E. loomed large in front of me. Even though I was among just a handful of Blacks in the school, I nor m friends had no avert incidents of racism, but there it was. I was outside in bright sunshine but the day was suddenly dark and tears stung my eyes.
I started to walk home slowly. I don’t remember seeing people on the street; I was so deep in thought. What was I to do? I could not tell my mother. Even if I told her about the principal being a bigot she would never understand in being disrespectful of using profanity to the male teacher.
Besides, she could not afford to take off from work to come to the school. I went home and later called one of my older sister friends. She must have been all of eighteen years at the time. She agreed to come to school with me and pose as my aunt. I don’t remember the particulars but without much question I was reinstated. Like I said the memory fades slowly, but I guess I should thank Ms. Ficks because that incident changed my life. From that day she intimidated that I should “stay in my place”. I stood up for myself and other women’s right. It has made me the assertive, politically and socially active, independent woman I am today.
One thing that remains the same in my memory is the very large auditorium and the stage with double curtains that remind you of Carnegie Hall or a Broadway stage. It was and still is very impressive.
Recently I went there to a Martin Luther King Jr. celebration and found out that the Olympic size pool was no longer there and the lunchroom was in the basement. During my three years there (I came from Jr. High) the lunchroom was on the top floor, fifth I think and the pool was in the basement.
I remember how the lunch bell would ring and you would have to get up all those stairs fast to avoid being on the end of a very long lunch line. On this particular day, I remember racing up the stairs, rushing in the lunch room with many others and getting in line. Suddenly I was accused by a male teacher. I did not know him and now I cannot even remember his name. “Get out of that line” he said “and go to the back. I saw you break into that line”. I was indignant, still breathing heavy after the race up the stairs. “I did not” I said, “You are a liar!” “What did you say” he said. By now a crowd was gathering and I was embarrassed while also feeling obliged to say something profound. “You are full of shit and you don’t eat regular either” I shot back; this was on of the hip street saying of the day. I was not one who used profanity normally, but now I was on stage. The teacher grabbed my arm and took me out of the line.
We went down to the principal’s office where Mr. Mole teacher told his story. My memory of the principal, Ms. Ficks was that of a Caucasian woman with crimped style waves in her hair (we use to call it crookinal (sp) waves, or was a cropped style? May be she was not even tall because at fifteen years of age, I was barely five feet, but I digress.
The teacher listened to Mr. Mole teacher’s version of the incident and then told me to go home and not come back unless my parent was with me. I even got the impression that Ms. Ficks was sorry that she cold not put me out of school permanently. (Remember I was fifteen). I was flabbergasted because I had not yet said a word. “Wait I said, is that the end of it? Don’t I get to tell my side o the story? That is not a sign of Democracy."
As memory fades, I can no longer clearly remember the names and faces of the teacher or the principal, but I will forever remember what the principal’s response was. “Young lady” she said as she straightened up to her full height, “If this (school) was not a democracy, you would not even be here”. And with that remark, she opened a door that I did not know existed and I found myself outside on the street.
I was stunned! What was she talking about? I would not even be there. It was not my grades. My grades were fine. I did not have a problem with tardiness. Then it hit me the letters R.A.C.E. loomed large in front of me. Even though I was among just a handful of Blacks in the school, I nor m friends had no avert incidents of racism, but there it was. I was outside in bright sunshine but the day was suddenly dark and tears stung my eyes.
I started to walk home slowly. I don’t remember seeing people on the street; I was so deep in thought. What was I to do? I could not tell my mother. Even if I told her about the principal being a bigot she would never understand in being disrespectful of using profanity to the male teacher.
Besides, she could not afford to take off from work to come to the school. I went home and later called one of my older sister friends. She must have been all of eighteen years at the time. She agreed to come to school with me and pose as my aunt. I don’t remember the particulars but without much question I was reinstated. Like I said the memory fades slowly, but I guess I should thank Ms. Ficks because that incident changed my life. From that day she intimidated that I should “stay in my place”. I stood up for myself and other women’s right. It has made me the assertive, politically and socially active, independent woman I am today.
The Outcome of the Election by Teresa
I was thrilled at the outcome of the election. I was alone at home and started jumping up and down when Obama elected flashed on the TV screen at 11pm. I can barely explain the emotions. I really did not think a black man would be elected in my lifetime. The word of Martin Luther King Jr. spoken forty years prior has and does even today move me to tears.
I was also moved to tears on the night of the election. I mouthed the words “thank you Lord”. I had not always been rooting for Barack Obama. It was not because I was not proud of this young black man and glad that he was getting a chance to run. I was a Hillary Clinton supporter. I had met her personally and had worked on her Senatorial campaign. I felt at the time that she was the more experienced candidate and probably in the back of my mind I did not think that white America, would elect a Black Man.
During the Campaign before the primary when Hillary Clinton started becoming negative and Obama started winning more and more electoral votes, I wanted Hillary to stop campaigning and just give up.
When she did not I began to look at obama and started to root for him. By that time he won the Democratic Nomination, I was in his camp. I watched the entire Democratic convention and was again overwhelmed with emotion when Obama made his made his acceptance speech. I watched the entire republican convention, looking at the few black faces in the crowds the negative words spoken about Obama form McCain. Would white America allow this to happen? I watched all the debates giving Obama the better score for all of them.
During this time I had become a complete news junkie. Late in the campaign when our economy faltered and we had wall street fall, I watched Senator McCain and company sound like idiots I watched Obama stay cool under pressure. I became encouraged again.
Now that the election is over and Obama has won, I am still punching myself. I thought my elation could go no higher until I saw the inauguration. I watched many of the inaugural events, this time along with the other people watching on a huge TV screen. I could scarcely take it in, I was so enthralled. I shed tears again. My prayer now is that President Obama can proceed in leading America.
I was also moved to tears on the night of the election. I mouthed the words “thank you Lord”. I had not always been rooting for Barack Obama. It was not because I was not proud of this young black man and glad that he was getting a chance to run. I was a Hillary Clinton supporter. I had met her personally and had worked on her Senatorial campaign. I felt at the time that she was the more experienced candidate and probably in the back of my mind I did not think that white America, would elect a Black Man.
During the Campaign before the primary when Hillary Clinton started becoming negative and Obama started winning more and more electoral votes, I wanted Hillary to stop campaigning and just give up.
When she did not I began to look at obama and started to root for him. By that time he won the Democratic Nomination, I was in his camp. I watched the entire Democratic convention and was again overwhelmed with emotion when Obama made his made his acceptance speech. I watched the entire republican convention, looking at the few black faces in the crowds the negative words spoken about Obama form McCain. Would white America allow this to happen? I watched all the debates giving Obama the better score for all of them.
During this time I had become a complete news junkie. Late in the campaign when our economy faltered and we had wall street fall, I watched Senator McCain and company sound like idiots I watched Obama stay cool under pressure. I became encouraged again.
Now that the election is over and Obama has won, I am still punching myself. I thought my elation could go no higher until I saw the inauguration. I watched many of the inaugural events, this time along with the other people watching on a huge TV screen. I could scarcely take it in, I was so enthralled. I shed tears again. My prayer now is that President Obama can proceed in leading America.
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