man from Lansing began visiting. I don't remember how orwhere he and my mother met. It may have been through some mutual friends. I don't remember whatthe man's profession was. In 1935, in Lansing, Negroes didn't have anything you could call aprofession. But the man, big and black, looked something like my father. I can remember his name,but there's no need to mention it. He was a single man, and my mother was a widow only thirty-sixyears old. The man was independent; naturally she admired that. She was having a hard timedisciplining us, and a big man's presence alone would help. And if she had a man to provide, it wouldsend the state people away forever. The state people, we found out, had interviewed the Gohannas family, and the Gohannases had saidthat they would take me into their home. My mother threw a fit, though, when she heard that-and thehome wreckers took cover for a while. We all understood without ever saying much about it. Or at least we had no objection. We took it instride, even with some amusement among us, that when the man came, our mother would be alldressed up in the best that she had-she still was a good-looking woman-and she would act differently,light-hearted and laughing, as we hadn't seen her act in years. It went on for about a year, I guess. And then, about 1936, or 1937, the man from Lansing jilted mymother suddenly. He just stopped coming to see her. From what I later understood, he finally backedaway from taking on the responsibility of those eight mouths to feed. He was afraid of so many of us. |