Far from Home: Memories of World War II and Afterward

22. A New Time

22 A New Time 226 If you can dream—and not make dreams your master, If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same. Rudyard Kipling, “If” THERE’S not much to tell about the girls’ school days after they changed schools. Mary was at Charity for three years, then it was changed to a middle school for seventh- and eighth-graders. After that they had to go to Wallace–Rose Hill High School, the formerly all-white school. It seemed no one was happy with the new system. There were bomb scares and other incidents. Even so, Mary went to the new school and graduated at the top of her class. She won some scholarships, and entered UNC-Greensboro, where she did four years’ work in three years. Then it was Carolyn’s year to march. After she graduated, she went to Washington , D.C., to live with Red, who had married two months after her graduation, gone to business school, then worked while her husband fought in the Vietnam war. He was wounded, and I thought he was dead the way Red had fits. When he was able, she met him in Hawaii, so that boosted her spirits. Upon his re- turn they moved to Kentucky to finish out his time in service and then moved to South Carolina for a year or so, where they became parents of a baby girl, Tracy Lynette, my first grandbaby. Papa got to see at least one of my grandchildren, then he too passed on. Red had just been home for a visit and taken the baby to see him. She and Carolyn had just gone back to D.C. when they had to come back home that same week for Papa’s funeral. He had an appointment to go into town to get his new eyeglasses and was sitting by the TV waiting for one of Bennie’s girls to come pick him up, when he just leaned back in his chair and died just that quick. I’m thankful he didn’t have to suffer a long time. Although he lived in Pender County and I didn’t get to see him as often as before, I felt lost with him and Mama both gone. Eunice and I sat on her bed and cried together. She’d been closer to Papa, and I knew she hurt badly. The morning after his funeral I woke up and just lay there thinking about Papa and how he used to tickle my feet to wake me up. It seemed like I could feel his presence and his telling me to get up and do something and to stop grieving. Without telling anyone else, I dressed, went outside, got my hoe and some yard flowers and went to Mama’s grave, worked around it, threw the old flowers away and put fresh ones on it, then I felt better. It seemed like the years were flying by now. All of the little kids I’ve been writing about are either grown-up or teenagers. Some are in college, and some married with babies of their own. Bennie had six daughters—Shirley, Della, Dorothy, Mary Alice, Mable Lee (Pig), and Sandy the baby girl. She and Judy were about the same age. Frank also had six children—Marion (Nod), Maxine, Bennie Louise (Cootie), Lillie Carol, and two boys Lloyd (Jimrod), and James Edward (Duke). Willie had two, Billy and Diana, and Sam had two, Bonita and Mike. Eunice was the only one without children, but she mothered her nieces and nephews. A New Time 227 228 FAR FROM HOME Her house was always full of young people. And although the kids who’d hung out at my house were also grown-up, they still came by often. They enjoyed talking with James. June Boney and his sister Rachel were married and each had two children. June had a little girl, Yvette, and a son, Marcellus, and Rachel had two daughters, Pam and Nicole. I had the pleasure of babysitting their children as well as Lillie Carol’s children, Mickey, Daryl, and Rodney. I was proud that they trusted me with the most precious things they had. My children were still young enough to get a kick out of playing with them. Iron Mine, too, was...