My Daddy is a singer. He's a cross between Ella Fitgerald and Joe Williams; that is to say that he scats mostly, much of what he's singing is unintelligible, but he can sure belt it out in the highs and lows like Ella and Joe.
He was born a poor black child in Petersburg, Virginia in Dinwiddie County. He was mostly raised by his maternal grandparents, Grandpa Sam and Grandma Josephine. His mother, Nona Belle (who I sometimes feel I am the reincarnation of, especially when my dad calls me "Mumma" or "Mother," like when I tuck him in at night), was a Rosie the Riveter during WWII , and was a single parent. My father once said that his father was a "no good Geechee from South Carolina;” (I don't know too much about old Noko), and that's why he kept his mother’s last name instead of what was on his birth certificate.
I can't imagine my father’s early life was easy: born in the south during The Great Depression, away from his only parent for long periods of time as she had travel to find work. He worked Grandpa Sam's farm with an extended family of aunts uncles and cousins-lots-as everyone's parents were searching for work. He went to school in a one room schoolhouse. I don't need to discuss the racism.
I'm not sure of details, but he is absolutely an American success story. Getting into trouble (he once told his students that he had been offered a choice between jail and the navy. He chose the navy. The student said "But I thought you told us you were an outstanding student?" My dad replied, "I was outstanding. Out standing on the corner, out standing in the pool hall...”), while hanging out on the streets on Baltimore came to a head when the judge offered him that choice. He joined the navy, went to Korea, experienced crazy racism as the only Black in his squadron of over 400, honorably discharged as Chief Petty Officer 2nd Class (thanks Shorty Rogers, some nice white dude who showed pops the ropes and mentored him), left the Navy, worked at Lockheed then Idlewild (JFK) where he was President Kennedy's flight line inspector whenever the plane landed there.
He met and married my beautiful Mommy, Gloria in 1952 raised 8 children, fostered several, adopted 2 and worked a full-time job and a part time job with 8 children, a wife, and a mother in law, all the way through his BA and MA. He retired after 30+ years of service to the children of New York as Assistant Superintendent for Curriculum and Instruction. Brilliant man. Dedicated to children. My mother often said before she became ill herself and well afterward that Daddy had "forgotten more than most people would ever know. "
That is why watching him go through Dementia as his caregiver, as well as my mom's, who was paralyzed due to stroke (she passed last October) for the past 6 years has been particularly poignant. I remember asking him to sign his name back in 2013; he couldn't. Didn't know how. Just made a mark. That was the day my heart really began to break. Not that it hadn't been breaking for years already…
Please stay tuned for Part 2; a caregiver rarely has the luxury of time!