above his head. “I’m a tree!”
Mama rushed to Goober. Daddy was right behind. Me, too.
To Goober, this was all so funny.
But not to us.
Tuesday, October 26, 1954
Diary Book,
Sometimes when a special news story catches Daddy’s eye, he likes to read it out loud. This morning was one of those times. He’d plunged himself into the
Hadley Register.
He said to Mama, “Loretta, listen to this mess.”
Mama filled Daddy’s coffee cup before he continued. He gulped once, then he read.
First came the headline.
“‘State Corporation Commission Certifies Defenders of State Sovereignty and Individual Liberties.’” Daddy took in more coffee.
He read the article next.
“‘The Defenders of State Sovereignty andIndividual Liberties, a grassroots political organization dedicated to preserving strict racial segregation in Virginia’s public schools, has been formed in Petersburg. Robert B. Crawford, of Farmville, has been named president of the organization.
“‘Several prominent Southside Virginia leaders, including state senators Charles Moses and Garland Gray, U.S. congressmen Watkins Abbitt and William Tuck, and newspaper editor J. Barrye Wall of the
Farmville Herald,
have begun to hold meetings at a Petersburg firehouse to devise ways of fighting the threat of public school integration.’”
Mama brought Daddy more cream for his coffee. She stirred it in while he read.
“‘It is the hope of these men to build a segregationist organization that will advocate for whites the way the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) has advocated for blacks.
“‘The formation of this group comes just months after the landmark Supreme Court ruling in the
Brown v. Board of Education
case, citing segregated schools as unconstitutional.’”
Daddy set down his newspaper. He asked Mama, “What about
our
individual liberties?”
Saturday, October 30, 1954
Diary Book,
I helped Mama shell peas all morning. We sat on our porch. Our street was quiet for a Saturday. With the weather cooling, less folks stroll on weekends. Mama’s raw-skinned fingers worked quickly.
Separating peas from their pods is harder than working open a shoelace knot. Peas can be stubborn. They like to hang on. I stuck with it, alongside Mama, till every pea was free. Mama hummed quietly. It was a song I knew. “Precious Lord, Take My Hand.”
Sunday, October 31, 1954
Diary Book,
You can’t see clouds in the dark, but you can sure feel them. I knew from the heavy smell in the air that it would rain this Halloween night. There was no moon.
Mama made Goober and me wear our raincoats. That messed up our costumes.
I was dressed as Jackie Robinson. Mama had sewn Jackie’s number — 42 — onto one of Daddy’s old work shirts. But you couldn’t see Jackie’s number underneath my raincoat. Thankfully,Mama had embroidered “Brooklyn Dodgers” on my baseball cap.
Goober was dressed as a peanut, a costume Mama and I had built with chicken wire, brown butcher paper, and lots of flour–water paste. Mama had even made peanut shoes for Goober from old bedroom slippers she’d shined with shoe polish. Before tonight, I had never seen a peanut wearing a raincoat and slippers. Somehow Goober managed to get his slicker onto his arms. It pulled tight across the back of his costume, but had no chance of buttoning up around his front.
Yolanda was dressed as Lena Horne. In every picture I’ve ever seen of Lena Horne, not one of them shows her in a dress made from a bedsheet like the one Yolanda’s mother had decorated with buttons, made to look like rhinestones. Each of us carried a pillowcase for collecting candy.
“You scared of haints?” Yolanda asked as we set out down Marietta Street.
“Heck, no!” I said. “I don’t believe in haints, spooks, goblins, or ghosts even.” The only ghoul that scares me is the Panic Monster. I didn’t tell this to Yolanda.
Mama and Daddy had told us not to go past Crossland Avenue
Mama rushed to Goober. Daddy was right behind. Me, too.
To Goober, this was all so funny.
But not to us.
Tuesday, October 26, 1954
Diary Book,
Sometimes when a special news story catches Daddy’s eye, he likes to read it out loud. This morning was one of those times. He’d plunged himself into the
Hadley Register.
He said to Mama, “Loretta, listen to this mess.”
Mama filled Daddy’s coffee cup before he continued. He gulped once, then he read.
First came the headline.
“‘State Corporation Commission Certifies Defenders of State Sovereignty and Individual Liberties.’” Daddy took in more coffee.
He read the article next.
“‘The Defenders of State Sovereignty andIndividual Liberties, a grassroots political organization dedicated to preserving strict racial segregation in Virginia’s public schools, has been formed in Petersburg. Robert B. Crawford, of Farmville, has been named president of the organization.
“‘Several prominent Southside Virginia leaders, including state senators Charles Moses and Garland Gray, U.S. congressmen Watkins Abbitt and William Tuck, and newspaper editor J. Barrye Wall of the
Farmville Herald,
have begun to hold meetings at a Petersburg firehouse to devise ways of fighting the threat of public school integration.’”
Mama brought Daddy more cream for his coffee. She stirred it in while he read.
“‘It is the hope of these men to build a segregationist organization that will advocate for whites the way the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) has advocated for blacks.
“‘The formation of this group comes just months after the landmark Supreme Court ruling in the
Brown v. Board of Education
case, citing segregated schools as unconstitutional.’”
Daddy set down his newspaper. He asked Mama, “What about
our
individual liberties?”
Saturday, October 30, 1954
Diary Book,
I helped Mama shell peas all morning. We sat on our porch. Our street was quiet for a Saturday. With the weather cooling, less folks stroll on weekends. Mama’s raw-skinned fingers worked quickly.
Separating peas from their pods is harder than working open a shoelace knot. Peas can be stubborn. They like to hang on. I stuck with it, alongside Mama, till every pea was free. Mama hummed quietly. It was a song I knew. “Precious Lord, Take My Hand.”
Sunday, October 31, 1954
Diary Book,
You can’t see clouds in the dark, but you can sure feel them. I knew from the heavy smell in the air that it would rain this Halloween night. There was no moon.
Mama made Goober and me wear our raincoats. That messed up our costumes.
I was dressed as Jackie Robinson. Mama had sewn Jackie’s number — 42 — onto one of Daddy’s old work shirts. But you couldn’t see Jackie’s number underneath my raincoat. Thankfully,Mama had embroidered “Brooklyn Dodgers” on my baseball cap.
Goober was dressed as a peanut, a costume Mama and I had built with chicken wire, brown butcher paper, and lots of flour–water paste. Mama had even made peanut shoes for Goober from old bedroom slippers she’d shined with shoe polish. Before tonight, I had never seen a peanut wearing a raincoat and slippers. Somehow Goober managed to get his slicker onto his arms. It pulled tight across the back of his costume, but had no chance of buttoning up around his front.
Yolanda was dressed as Lena Horne. In every picture I’ve ever seen of Lena Horne, not one of them shows her in a dress made from a bedsheet like the one Yolanda’s mother had decorated with buttons, made to look like rhinestones. Each of us carried a pillowcase for collecting candy.
“You scared of haints?” Yolanda asked as we set out down Marietta Street.
“Heck, no!” I said. “I don’t believe in haints, spooks, goblins, or ghosts even.” The only ghoul that scares me is the Panic Monster. I didn’t tell this to Yolanda.
Mama and Daddy had told us not to go past Crossland Avenue
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