Memory Monday: A Demonstration of Love

During my high school years, our principal allowed us to have a Bible Study during lunch. It was available for any student who wanted to gather together during their lunch break to study the Bible. This was not formally advertised since technically, this was against the law during the 1980s. Students found out about this Bible study by word of mouth and I found out about it through my orchestra friend John. The teachers for the Bible study both taught English at our school.

I was the only black person who consistently participated in the group and I lived across town from the rest of them. My family did not have a car, but members of the Bible study, who either had their own cars or access to the cars of their parents, would give me a ride to our numerous gatherings outside of school. We had many gatherings at each other’s homes where we would have fun and fellowship. Because of the love shown to me from members of this group, I was able to participate in many of these gatherings. They didn’t have to take the time to drive across town (about a half hour or more), and give me a ride to the gatherings, but they did and I am eternally grateful to them for their demonstration of care and love.

On the occasion of this photo, a few members of the group came to my house for fellowship. (left to right) Chris (on guitar), Debbie (standing), Laura (sitting), and Brenda (holding music stand).

Today, I get together for monthly fun, food, and fellowship with three of the members of this Bible Study. BTW, I have my own car now, so I no longer have to depend on them for transportation. (Smile)

Postcard to Granddaddy

In early October 1972, my mother moved my three sisters and me from Virginia to New Jersey. We journeyed to New Jersey on the Greyhound bus. During our layover in Washington, DC, I purchased this postcard and mailed it to my grandfather Minor Elwood Thornton (1913-1979), some time after we arrived in New Jersey. I don’t remember if I bought other postcards during this layover.




Finding Postcard Years Later
Several years ago, I went through the papers of my maternal grandparents and found this postcard which I had written a few weeks after my ninth birthday. I’m not sure why I didn’t address the card to both of my grandparents. Perhaps I sent Grandma a separate card, but if that actually occurred, she did not keep it.




Observations About the Postcard
I had just begun fourth grade when this postcard was written. Three things come to mind as I look back at this.

First, I thought that I learned to write in cursive during my third grade year, but if this is my signature, and then we would have learned cursive writing in the second grade. This is evident with the way I wrote the majority of the postcard in print and my name is signed in cursive. Also behind the cursive print, I can see that I printed my first name, but then erased it. After carefully, looking at the signature, I began to suspect that my mother may have written my signature in cursive because I remember the shape of her “D’s” when she wrote her name “Dorothy.” I looked at her signature on my birth certificate, and the writing looks similar. Today, I was looking for other documents with her handwriting, but can’t find them right now.

The second observation about this postcard is that I’m amazed that this card, which I wrote in pencil, is still readable after 36-years.

My third observation is that I referred to my grandfather as “Grandpa” instead of “Granddaddy” like I always remember calling him. Did my nine-year-old mind think that Grandpa was the proper way to refer to him in writing? Or did I actually address him as Grandpa during this time in my life?

Cousin Greg’s First Birthday Party
My youngest cousin Greg, not “Grey” as I spelled on the postcard, turned one about a week after our arrival and a big birthday party was given to him by his parents to honor this occasion. The postmark on the card was October 16, 1972, which was a Monday. I remember that Greg’s party was on a Saturday afternoon so I must have written the postcard sometime prior to the event, and mailed it on Monday.

Back to VirginiaWe stayed in New Jersey for about eleven months, but did not return on the Greyhound bus. Instead, we traveled home by a car that was driven by my grandmother’s youngest brother.

My First Grade Picture

I was in first grade from 1969-1970 when this photo was taken. My family purchased my first grade photos, but all of them somehow ended up in a diaper hamper and were damaged. During my first grade year, my maternal grandmother was caring for five grandchildren, which included my three sisters and I, and our first cousin Jeff. He and my youngest sister Darlene were between one and two years old during my first grade school year, and both were still in diapers. During these days, babies wore cloth diapers, and not pampers like they do today. There was some type of diaper genie or hamper in the house for these two toddlers. I don’t know how it happened, but my first grade pictures ended up in that hamper. I cried when I found them there. Did one of those toddlers put it there, I wonder? Or maybe it was one of my other two sisters, who were ages 2 and 5 during that school year.

Nevertheless, the copy of my first grade class photo was not damaged. The class photo was a card about 5 x 7, with an individual picture of each student, the teacher, and school principal,. Another first grade photo was discovered many years later, sometime after the year 2000, when I discovered one in a photo album which belonged to my grandmother’s sister Mary.

The dress I am wearing in this photo was bought for me by my mother’s brother and sister, and it was one of my favorite childhood dresses. My aunt and uncle bought me several other new outfits to begin my first grade school year. This dress was passed down to each of my three younger sisters, who always inherited my old clothes. Guess that was a little advantage to being the oldest.