Month: April 2020

There is a philosophy called Eternal Recurrence

Everything happens over again in the very same way,

That the life we live now, we have lived before,

And that we have lived it again and again from time immemorial.

It was one those Fridays in May of that year,

I was standing in lobby of a Hilton Hotel,

Where up and coming Professionals,

Convened to look for potential exploits,

Men sporting double breasted suits and ties

Shoes from Florsheim or perhaps Kenneth Cole,

Pranced around like lions in a jungle,

Trying to stalk out potential prey

Women in evening dresses,

With the tags still attached, in case they should want to return it,

High heels, and stocking-less legs,

Large earrings in honor of their Independence,

Then there was this one lady,

Whose lady-like appearance at first took me off-guard!

I was trying to remember where I had seen her before,

I then remembered that it was a few weeks before.

A few weeks before, I was sitting in my Company’s more upscale cafeteria with colleagues, 

When this young professional Black woman walks in from the

Marketing department’s direction,

My eyes follow her as she picks up her tray; gathers and pays for her food;

She then takes a seat at a table amongst her colleagues.

I could tell that she was self-conscious, particular about her own presentation,

Her aura was conservative, in an intelligent sort of way, a lady to take home.

Many years later I would wonder what was I thinking as she picked-up that tray. Did I envision, then, that I would see her pick up trays many times in my life?  I would, eventually, see her pick up more trays than I had seen anyone else pick up.

While at the Hilton, I remembered her but I did not tell her, then, that I had seen her before,

I didn’t tell her that when I saw her before, she was wearing the same dress as she was wearing on this day.  I did not want her to feel guilty.  After all, it had been more than two weeks, so there was nothing wrong with wearing the same dress twice in two weeks.  I would later learn that she could afford almost any dress she wanted.

The next day there was a gathering at a comedy club in Philly,

I was late, finished viewing a game between the Celtic’s and Milwaukee

When I walked into the comedy club, everyone was already seated,

There was one vacant spot near the end of a long table,

There she was again, this time in dark sun glasses

I liked her better in the sunglasses, perhaps less conservative.

When the comedy was over, we all walked down the coble stone streets; I made it a point to walk beside her as she talked with a friend.  They had been talking about the delights of cooking,

I interjected that I never cooked, I just get take out.

She replied, “We can’t have that!” with a smile!

And then I was thinking, so what are you going to do about it?

I was invited to join them for Brunch the next day

Brunch was at that same hotel where we had met,

She and her friend did most of the talking.

Two Ivy League Black Women talking about their careers

I picked through my food as I listened to them talk

I rather liked the way she spoke, in total control of her language

I was beginning to feel a little intimidated, believe it or not,

And then there was this sense of Déjà vu

Now I was thinking that not only have I seen her before,

I have actually known her before,

It must have been in another life, she was so familiar to me,

But I just knew that I previously knew her,

Not only do I have an excellent memory of this life,

I can sometimes remember my previous lives,

Perhaps this was my recognition of that eternal recurrence

Sitting before me now, was the wife of my previous life.

After Brunch, I bid them goodbye,

I went back to my apartment in the suburbs of Philly,

The first thing I did was called a friend from New Jersey,

I said hello S.  S replied, what’s up J.

I said, guess what, S?

S laughed and said “what, J?”

“I think that I have met my wife”.

S said, “So, J, when did you meet her?

I said this time it was “2 days ago”,

“But the last time was a million years ago!”

J

You have always stood in the shadows;

Hidden by a curtain of darkness;

I have never really seen you;

Yet I have always known you were there,

As a result, there has always been the real you,

And then there was the you of my imagination;

I would always wonder if the two were ever the same.

Once while was sitting in a classroom

a young lady Walked past with the scent of your perfume;

although I never knew the name of your perfume,

I was thrown into an olfactory confusion.

A beautiful September day, many, many years ago,

You stood giggling in the doorway of our Gymnasium,

I was approached by a boy I knew,

said this girl he knew, wanted to meet me.

But this girl only wanted to introduce me to you,

As if she had already known me.

Strangely I already knew of you,

From another boy who also knew me,

This boy was a friend,

Who had once bragged about knowing you?

Yet, I still made your acquaintance,

I asked if you knew this other boy who was friend to me,

You quickly dismissed him as only a casual person you knew,

As if to say in whatever way you may know him,

You still wanted to get to know me.

When the recess bell had rung, and as I ran to my class,

I looked back and I could only see your shadow.

I started to run back, to get another look at you,

But you had disappeared into the wilderness of other students.

Later, when I was at home, sitting on the couch; 

Listening to WWDM, and I could hear Ernie Isely’s guitar,

And the Isely’s were singing who’s that lady.

And the song became a question that   

would never be satisfactorily answered.  

You would later become a profound mystery to me,

You would do things that I could never understand,

Whenever I thought I was about to understand you,

You would do something that would disabuse me of that illusion.

Then, I finally realized that there was the real you,

And then there was the you I imagined you to be.

I’m not sure if the two were ever the same.

In the end, all I was left with was my imagination of you,

But when I reflect upon it now,

I realize that It wasn’t such a bad thing. 

I have learned, in this life, that sometimes

Imagination is better than reality.

ME

And then she walked into my first-grade class,

My life was instantly and permanently changed,

Adorned in a pink dress and perhaps white shoes,

White ribbons neatly strung through long, thick, dark hair,

 Hands being held by an older brother!

And then she was sitting in a seat next to me,

I was trying to view her from the corner of my eyes,

Even then I knew how to be discreet,

How to let her know, without letting her know,

That although this is the first time I have ever seen her,

That she belongs to me, and only me.

No other boy needed even dare think about looking at her,

Only I deserved this little angel,

I was sitting in my first-grade class, eager to begin my life,

But it was as if my heart had only just now begun to beat,

I was like a newly born baby being brought to life.

Her name was a name I had not heard before,

No one else around had that name,

No one else even deserved that name.

My angel, after all, was one of a kind,

An only begotten daughter sent from heaven to save my tiny soul.

I wanted to, but dared not, pull on her hair

Run my little fingers through its elaborate luxuriousness

To pluck one its silky strands for the museum within my heart

Whose visitor would be me and only me?

One day her brother and my brother were in a fight.

My brother was holding her brother down on the ground,

She and I stood side by side near the schoolhouse wall observing them.

I was conflicted because my brother was fighting the brother of my

Angel.  I wanted him to stop, but I said nothing.

Then my angel kept saying to her brother:

“Get up B”; “B please get up”, “get up B”; “B please get up!”   

I felt so sorry for her,

I could tell that she so loved her brother.

I wanted to hug her, and tell her it was ok,

But she did not even know that it was my brother who was fighting her brother. 

And I did not tell her, ever, that it was my brother,

Fearing that she would be angry at me, and I could not have that.

And then the next year she was in another class

Although right next door to my class, I felt as

If we were in two different worlds,

I had, suddenly, lost the girl of my dreams,

There was a song out that year titled “rescue me”

I thought it was written only for me,

It was as if God had taken my angel away,

Teasing me with her presence always being just next door,

But she could have been on the moon, as far as I was concerned,

I would always have these other dreams,

About one day walking in an amusement park in the rain,

In one of those places such as six flags,

Arm in arm with the angel of my life,

But dreams rarely come true? Although, sometimes they do!

Every New Year my only wish was to rejoin her

To once more, look at her from the corner of my eyes,

To one day gain enough courage to pull on her hair

To let her know, without letting her know,

That sometimes, first love last forever.

The Dreamer

by Jerome Pearson

June 2010

It all went down back in the summer of 74.  That was the summer where George McCrae topped the soul charts with “Rock Your Baby”, followed by Hues Corporation’s “Don’t Rock the Boat”, followed by William Devaughn’s “Be Thankful for what you got”, a melody so sweet and so smooth that it even made the tobacco rows seem short, and the normally unbearable hot and blazing Sun seem like a mere beach umbrella.  

Although the summer began with Isleys’ “Summer Breeze” and The Dell’s “I wish it were me you love”, by July, the city of “Miami” was “all the rage”, as George McCrae was eating up the Soul charts. The summer continued with perhaps the most beautiful of them all “Gladys” (“Make yours a happy Home”) which was combined on her “Claudine” album with hits like “ON and ON”. 

That’s right; the summer in which Richard Nixon resigned the Presidency was the most soulful summer ever.   Pick a year, and you are not likely to find one more soulful than 74.   If the years 1970-74 were the height of soul, then, the year 1974 was its acme.

But our story takes place in Davis Station, SC and we didn’t care anything about Nixon or Watergate.  I remember this little girl who heard that the president was being impeached.  She said, “Well, I hope they cut him up, put em in a Jar”. 

It began on an unbearable hot and sultry Friday in late June of 74.  We received permission from the Boss man to knock-off at noon so we could have the annual fish-fry. 

I went home and took a bath but only ate a sandwich for my lunch.  I was saving my self for those fried breams and that catfish stew and steamed rice.  I don’t care too much for the carp fish, but I would occasionally taste a very small piece, at the most.  There was something about how one side of carp fish would be very dark and one side white.  However, both breams and catfish were white through and through. We all contributed ten dollars which was enough to cover all of the fish, bread, rice, beer, and the corn liquor. 

Bono and Albert were going to do all the cooking cause they good at it.  Big George always allows us to cook in the tree shade behind his juke joint because he knows that would help fill up his club later on Friday night. 

It felt good in that tub with that cool water washing away all of the accumulated dirt and grime from the fields. It always feels good to get that tar off your hands after you been cropping tobacco.  I smoked a cool as I soaked in the soapy water.  I could hear the chickens cackling all across the yard.  My mother was outside hanging clothes to dry that she had washed earlier that day.  In those days, you didn’t need no dryer, just hang the clothes on the line and let the sun go to work.  Course though, you had to remember to take the clothes in the house before the rain comes.

I stayed in that tub for about 45 minutes before getting out and drying my self.  I put on a yellow short sleeve silk shirt with a big collar and a pair of green bell-bottoms pants, and brown platform shoes.  I walked down to Big Georges club at around 2:30. The first person I saw was Leroy.  He didn’t even look like he’d gone home to take bath and change clothes.  We used to tease Leroy about never taking a bath. He was drinking a colt 45 malt liquor, so I ordered one.  Big George had fat ass Nathaniel working behind the bar.  Everybody knew Nate was a sissy, but we never teased him much.

I asked Leroy, “them fellahs ain’t get back with that fish yet?”  “Nope, but it don’t take long to cook it once they get it here.  Well the catfish takes the longest because of the stew.  But they’ll have everything ready fore five.”  That was a couple more hours and I was getting a bit hungry.  I walked over to the Horton’s store and ordered a slice of boloney and a box of crackers.  You don’t want that naked Colt 45 on your stomach in that heat.  When I got to old man Horton’s store, he was steady sneezing and wiping his nose with his shirt sleeve.  We knew he was nasty, but I was hungry.  He and his old wife did not even wear gloves when they cut meat for you. I used to watch all of those brown spots on they hand, hoping that they didn’t touch my meat. We thought it was cancer, and I didn’t want no cancer on my boloney.

On my way back, I met Mabel walking towards me in a short skirt.  She knew it was Friday and that most of the men had money and that was when she made most of her money.  She has been known to take as many as ten guys a night, charging them ten dollars a piece.  But I wasn’t about to give her none of my money today.  She said to me, “Hi baby, where you think you going?”  I told her that I was headed back to Big Georges and that I was waiting for the fish-fry.  “You sho you don’t want to spend none of that money, honey?  You know Big George got rooms up in there.”  “Not today”, I replied and kept walking in the direction of Big Georges.  She aint’ never getting none of my hard-earned money.

When I got back, Leroy was still sitting on a stool drinking his colt.  A few minutes later I saw Bono’s car pulled up with Albert sitting in the front seat.  I immediately got up and went around back.  “About time!  I thought y’all wasn’t ever coming back.”  “Well, we had to find that corn liquor before we got that fish, and they didn’t come off that water with the fresh catfish until about 2:30.  You, come on around here and start skinning these catfish!”

I grabbed a knife and pair of pliers and took the bucket of catfish over to a vacant table.  Most of the catfish were still alive so you had to make sure you didn’t get stuck by that fin because there is nothing more painful.  I grabbed the fish by the mouth with the pliers and quickly inserted the knife into her stomach.  I made about a six-inch incision and began taking out the guts and throwing them in a trash bag.  I then took the pliers and pulled the skin off them.  Meanwhile, Bono and Albert had started a fire and sat a black wash pot filled with water on it; that’s where we would cook the catfish.

Every now and then the clouds would come out and threaten rain but then the Sun would come back; they played hide and seek like that for the rest of the afternoon.  Before long Eddie and Little Man showed up.  Little-man had a pint of Grand Canadian sealed whisky that he must have gotten from the town of Manning because there were no liquor stores in Davis Station in those days, only the illegal corn. Little-man was a short muscular dude known to be the toughest man around.  One time I seen ’em grabbed a live snake by the tail and beat it to death on a hot asphalt highway; he would whip the snake against the road like he was cracking a whip.  “Let’s get this show on the road”, Little-Man cried out as he took another swig of the Grand Canadian whisky.  “I’m drinking sealed whisky!  Eddie was his partner and he was big, strong, and blacker than black berries.  “Start cleaning those carps and breams over there before y’all get too drunk”, Albert yelled towards them.

Meanwhile, I continued skinning the catfish, careful not get any blood and guts on my clothes.  I just got these pants off lay-away, and I didn’t won’t to take them to the cleaners this soon.  Plus, you have to drive all the way to Manning to even find a cleaner.   My momma always says we don’t need to take them to the cleaners in the first place if we learn how to iron properly.  But I didn’t want no iron on my polyester, cause fore you know it, you be having holes.    I have a second pair of polyester that I also had on lay-away, but I am saving them for the Fourth.   That’s when all of those pretty girls be coming from up the road from places like B-More and Jersey.  Some of um be coming from New York and Miami, but most of um be from B-More and Jersey.  And Jersey has the finest girls around.  B-More had some fine ones too, but they need to get all of that faked gold outta they mouth before they could compete with Jersey.  But when they come down here, I tries to look my best.  The only bad thing is that they think that we “country” and talk funny.    But they don’t mind spending our money though.  They try pretend that the boys “up the road” are better, but from what I hear, most of um be in jail half time.  They be talking all of that mash, but when time for them leave to go back “up the road”, they be crying, all like they in love, because they know there ain’t no loving like country loving, and you can believe that!  Who sing that song about, “ain’t no love in the heart of the city, ain’t no love in the heart of town?”  That’s right, Bobby Blue Bland!  These northern girls don’t care if you are even married, cause they just figure because they from “up the road”, wives will just have to take a back seat while they down here.    But some of the Country wives come up on them by surprise, and then they be singing, “ain’t no ‘licking’, like a country ‘licking’, and you ain’t gon be taking my man, from this side of town”!  I have seen a whole family jump a woman who was sitting in the car with their daddy.   She thought she was cool until they dragged her behind outta that car.  And all their daddy did was taking off in his car.  He left his woman behind because he knew he had his coming later.

While I was cleaning the fish, Bono started cutting up onions and getting that hot sauce, fatback, black pepper, and salt ready.   We don’t have to put on the rice yet because that’ll cook quicker than that stew, and we don’t want it ready too early.   Before long we was adding that cat fish to that hot water and all them spices, and ain’t nothing like some good ole stewed catfish.  Some people put potatoes in theirs, but we don’t.  Cars be driving past looking at us, and I know they just want to come over and try to get some of this fish, but they didn’t contribute, and aint nothing free. 

We try to have the fish-fry the week fore the fourth, because that be barbeque time.  And when I say barbeque, I’m talking about a pig and not no chicken.  I hear some people be saying they are barbequing chicken.  Well, around here, barbeque means pig; everything else must be something else.  You ask a man for some barbeque, he don’t ask whether you want chicken or hot-dog, cause down here he knows what you want.   But the week before the fourth is our fish-fry time, and when you be serving catfish with all of that black pepper, and those gnats be flying around, and sometimes they fall in your plate, and then you can’t tell the black pepper from the gnats.  If it’s hot, that means it is pepper, but if it’s sweet, then you know you just bite into a gnat, but it makes no difference cause seasoning is seasoning.

Fore long we was scooping up that rice and scooping that catfish stew on top of it.  That with some light bread is all you need.  Now days people be eating salad fore they meals, but we didn’t care nothing bout no salad.  Why you wanna mess up a meal with some kind of salad when the real thing sitting right in front of you.  I don’t know who been crazy enough to think of something stupid like that.  And then some people be claiming that salad is all they eat, but them be the one who ain’t never had no catfish stew. All they need is one spoon of that catfish stew, and then that’ll teach them from “sucking eggs”, and you can b’lieve that.  I think they be trying ta fool somebody.  But we know the real deal in the big DS.  You bring some kind of salad round here that ain’t macaroni or potato, then you might just get shot, or at least, stobbed.

After we finished eating, there were always these challenges and what not.  Leroy had him a new can of Colt 45.  He said to Little Man that he was gon set the can on the ground and count to 3, and if little man grabs it fore him, then he could have it.  So, Leroy, sets his can on the ground, and counted, 1, 2, 3, and they both was reaching for the beer but Little Man being fast as a cat swooped it up first, and next thing you know they in a tussle because Leroy was feeling embarrassed and plus  he done   realize that his beer was gone, so he turned it into a fight because he was trying to tackle Little Man; but fore you know it, Little Man picked Leroy up off his feet and body slammed him on the ground.  Now wasn’t that some BS?  You get your behind Kicked and lose your beer at the same time just because you was dumb enough to challenge another dude.  Leroy was also embarrassed because Little Man was much smaller than him, but you would never know it by what just happened.  So now he had to try to save face. 

Fore you know it Leroy done went to the trunk of his car and grabs a metal crow-bar that is used to change tires. He looked at us from the trunk of his car and realizes that he done mess up because we all knew he made the challenge and lost and now he trying to turn it into something bigger than it was, rather than just taking his whipping like a grown man should.  I could even see some tears in his eyes.  He was looking like “what did I just get my self into?”  Five minutes ago, he was just buying his self a new can of beer, and now had no beer to go along with an unnecessary A-whipping.  It don’t get no lower than that, but that’s how it be in the big DS sometimes.

Finally, Leroy decides to come back over and rejoin us, even though he was embarrassed.  Little Man had done gulp down that free beer and was on to other things.  Little Man has been in so many fights in his days that he don’t even think twice about what happen.  I always thought that if Little Man had ever continued his schooling past the third grade, he probably would have been a good running back in high school football cause he was so quick on his feet and strong as a bull.  He did everything on instinct, just like an animal.  He done beat up many men who underestimated him.  He was driving tractors by the time he was in the 2^nd grade and helps his daddy on this White man’s farm.  His daddy and mother didn’t set a good example cause they be out in the street every weekend drinking and fighting whoever crossed them the wrong way.  By the time Little Man was 12, he left home for some place in North Carolina working on farms up there.     He been back in the big DS in the last several years and rumor has it that he killed three people fore he headed back home, one of them who had the nerves to not pay him his five dollars back on time.

We continue drinking, eating, and horsing around for a couple of hours.  Later this White girl name Colleen comes around cause she likes to hang out at Big George Juke joint.  She don’t live too far from Davis Station and all of her life she be acking like she Black.  I think she’s sweet on me but she keeps saying I’m too young.  I keep telling her I got plenty of experience though.   She just gives me that seductive smile and turns away.  She the only white girl we know that even be speaking to Black people on equal terms.  She knows everybody’s name, and even strings tobacco like the rest of the Black women.  Whenever a car with White peoples drives past and sees her talking to Black people, I know they be wondering why she was stooping so low but she be having a good time.  If she be driving her car and sees a Black person walking down the street, she would stop and give them a ride.  We all like her as a person cause she was kind hearted.  She say she only like Black music, so that why she be hanging out at the Black establishments.   She even likes catfish stew, and the fellas don’t mind sharing some with her cause they think they might get a little favor in return later on, but I don’t think nothing ever happened.  She can be a tease, getting our hopes higher than they should be.

So that was why the next morning, when my mom wakes me up saying that the Police was outside, and they wanted to talk to me, I was not so surprised.  Colleen was such a good girl and things should not have turn out the way they did for her.    They asked me what I knew about Little Man and I told them all I knew, including some alleged rape he was bragging about a few months ago.    They said to me that Colleen was found dead in the back seat of her car in a wooded area not too far from Big George Juke joint.   It appeared that she had been raped first.   I told them I had seen her at the club for a while, but I didn’t know what time she left.  I told them I left around 11 and came home to my bed.

Little Man was arrested but he kept saying he didn’t have anything do with it.   The all White Jury convicted him anyway, mainly because of his own rap sheet and all of the other allegations.   He was given a life sentence but wound up only serving 20 years before he got out.  When he got out, He seemed to be a changed man and had become so religious, carrying his Bible everywhere and always going to church.  Every time I see him, I always feel sorry for him.  He was never given a chance from the time he was born.  Whenever I see him, I can’t seem to look him in the eye though. 

Over the years many things have change.   Big George Juke joint is standing but is only a shell of its former self.  Leroy moved to Miami and was killed in a car accident.  People don’t know where Albert is.   Bono still hangs around.

I graduated from High School and then enlisted in the Army.  I Spent 30 years in the Army and finally retired back in 2005 as a Master Sergeant.  I was married to a German woman, but we divorced after 15 years and she wound up taking our two kids back to Germany with her.   I never got married again because women always cause problems, and sometimes I would just rather be myself.   Now that I have retired, I have returned to Davis Station

When my German wife was about to leave, I didn’t try to stop her.  I kind of understood.   She said she couldn’t deal with those nightmares I keep having, when I kept waking up night after night, screaming, and saying:

“‘I’m sorry Colleen, I didn’t mean to do it; it was only an accident!”

MSG. John Franklin Smith (Retired)

June 2010