Far from Home: Memories of World War II and Afterward

2. The Start of My Big City Life

2 The Start of My Big City Life 17 Adieu! Adieu! Thy plaintive anthem fades . . . and now ’tis buried deep In the next valley glades. John Keats, “Ode to a Nightingale” I DIDN’T know it then, but this would be the last time some of this crowd would ramble about and have fun together. We were fast approaching the time our paths would diverge and we would begin to travel in different directions. Only a day or so later I received a long white envelope from the U.S. Government, Civil Service, Washington, D.C. I was to report to a specific building on January 18. That would be the next Monday. I would be leaving home on Sunday. I could see that Mama was proud of what I was doing, although she’d never told me she wanted me to go out and work at a job far away from home. The choice was mine. I don’t know how the rest of the family felt. Sam asked me once why I wanted to go to Washington, and he assured me I was going to perish and come back nothing but skin and bones. Papa 18 FAR FROM HOME as usual, was against my going anywhere, and he told Mama I just wanted to go there to ramble up and down the streets like I did in Iron Mine, and then he’d bring out his favorite saying: “She’s got no more business there than a pig has with a Bible.” When I tried to picture one of Papa’s fat curly-tailed pigs sitting up reading a Bible, it struck me as funny indeed and I’d giggle. I told Mama to tell him I didn’t want to ramble in Washington. I was going to work. The answer to that was, “Oh pshaw, she don’t have to go to work. She has a home.” I spent the week packing my footlocker with as many clothes as I could and sorting out family and school pictures and books that I wanted to carry, along with the gifts the gang had given me for my birthday only two short weeks before. It still didn’t seem quite real that I was leaving home, and this time it was not for school, but clean out of North Carolina. I had just turned eighteen and was an adult and would be responsible for my own food, rent, clothes, and so on. Gladys wanted to go with me, but her dad said no, she didn’t have to go out and work for a living. Mama said I didn’t either, but I wanted to be independent and take care of myself. Well, Sunday came around. It was the third Sunday of the month, which was our preaching Sunday. We went to church as usual. I said good-bye to all the gang who were at church. I almost felt like I did when I first went away to school in Raleigh. I also said good-bye to our pastor, Mr. Tim. I’d miss our little white wooden church, Sunday school, and the preaching on third Sundays. Mama fixed dinner, and we ate. All my things were packed and ready. We’d be leaving for the bus station shortly afterwards. I was catching the afternoon bus so I’d arrive in D.C. early the next morning. Right after dinner, someone arrived at the house with Frank. He’d been riding Effie, his motorcycle, and when rounding a sharp curve on the way home, he had been thrown off The Start of My Big City Life 19 the bike, landing in a field with Effie on top of him. His chest had been bruised. Thank the Lord it was no worse, but it was so upsetting that I didn’t want to leave. After putting Frank to bed and looking at his chest, Mama said it didn’t look all that bad and for me to go on as planned. I didn’t want to leave my brother Frank there hurting, but she said they would send for the doctor to come see about him. House calls by doctors were made willingly in those days. My trunk was put in the truck and I was soon on my way to the bus station with Papa, Mama, and little Maxine. Eunice was back in Richmond. Sam declined...