“Front Porches & Corner Stores: Letting Go

“Mother Howard these children don’t know nuthin but church on Sunday, now what we gon do bout that? Ooh Wee! Lord knows they sho gon miss Sundays Momma!”

JE swore fore God he wasn’t gon let his daddy provoke him to anger again and his momma wasn’t gon have to cry out to the Lord the way she did that night. Memories rushed in; taking him back. It was time to leave fore he wore out his welcome. He could feel it, just like soldiers them old blues wanted to march up from inside, but he humbled himself.

Honey slept, JE stayed up and Addiemae was right. It took everything in him not to kill Luke when he brought his beautiful sister back home damaged like a worn-out tire, he couldn't use no more. Said he was wrong as two left shoes. Said he did good not to bleed out and die but he was sho nuf gon bust hell wide open. Even though it was in him, JE didn't wanna do wrong. He got up early the next morning to catch his daddy at the breakfast table.  Put on civilian clothes, grabbed the newspaper from the nightstand and went downstairs in a good spirit. Sat at the table shaking inside hoping to get the words out that tried to back up in his head. Snapped through the pages, put enough bass in his voice to be heard. Spoke matter-of-factly as if they’d already been in a conversation. His daddy watched tones of voice; he was careful to mind his tone and braced himself respectfully.

“Daddy, this here newspaper from Chicago.” He stopped talking, raised the newspaper, offered it to Daddy Howard and waited for his reach. Once he reached, he started back talking again. “It says there’s opportunity, good schools for black children, and industrial jobs. I can’t buy property yet but they built three new buildings sixteen stories high, with affordable rent in a black community. I got an Army buddy up there he’s the superintendent of the workmen. Said he got a job waiting for me if I want it. Me and Honey gon take advantage. Y’all done helped more than can be expected, God knows we thankful. But you raised men that take care their families so it’s time we be bout our way. A man will never be a man in another man’s house.”

“Front Porches & Corner Stores” Leaves on the Family Trees

“Now kick it in cruise and she’ll take us all the way. Don’t pump the brake you got to let her ride. Let the windows down, turn my music up. There you go Honey. Keep it just like that.”

It was like love; her first time behind the wheel of the Cadillac. It hugged the road and all he had to do was lay back and ride.  Driving with JE beside her felt safe but then again it always did. She trusted him that’s why it hurt so bad when she couldn’t. When there was love he took her on long rides before they went to bed to help her sleep. There he was again taking the lead, the way she liked. Guiding her through like ole times, she fought the urge to believe in him again. He came back to himself, and they felt good together. JE leaned over the armrest to observe her while she drove with the sly grin on his face that won her heart. He knew she was tired. He gently touched her cheek with the back of his hand and they warmed; the attraction was still there. Wasn’t no denying it. It had been a long time since they were alone together. He teased her. “Look at me, I’m riding with an independent woman.”

Honey was uneasy about the comment, it was a point of contention. She warned him, “Gone now, JE don’t do that it makes me nervous.” She triggered him.

“Good!” He asserted. “You need to be nervous. Going up there with all that mouth and tough talk about what you not gon do. That kinda talk turn a man right off.” He relaxed back in the passenger seat leaving her to her thoughts. Miles and miles of road was behind them. The Blues testifying in the background, made them think and feel. Ten miles and ten minutes later Honey got up the nerve to ask.

“Is that what I did JE? Turn you off? Asking for what I needed turned you off?” Hurt by his cheating, she wanted to know.

JE sounded more serious than ever. “Honey, you have the right to ask for what you need and some of what you want. You my wife, the mother of my children. But you don’t demand nuthin from me. Don’t nobody have that right. I do for you cause I choose to, no other

reason.” He asserted his man voice. “Honey, don’t fool around here and hurt yourself trying to raise a grown man; be careful with that.” His words cut deep and she went silent. He never said that before, not that way. Never used those words, tone of voice, issuing a firm rebuke that she may have earned. Honey wondered if that’s what she did. Tried to raise him.  Wondered if that’s where it went wrong. JE reached under the dashboard close by her knee and she jumped. He popped out the 8-track tape and put in another one. They drove an hour with Motown love songs serenading them in the background. She resisted the words to the songs that spoke, begged, pulled and drew them closer. Not willing to break down, she disturbed the groove. 

“Front Porches & Corner Stores” Leaving

“Father God in The Mighty Name of Jesus! My Sweet Lord. Please Sir! If it be thy pleasure and if it be thy will. Let this bitter cup pass. Tear it up from the root that this family may walk with you down through the generations all the days of our lives. Amen.”

It just wasn’t right to see or hear such a thing in a sanctified house. God wasn’t nowhere in it. A father and son standing toe to toe hollering at each other like wasn’t no love, like wasn’t no God in em. It was dangerous like judgment coming. They never forgot that night Mother Howard turned her face to the wall, refused to stop praying to the Lord. Anted up the score for the life she lived before Him. Told Him how she raised her children in His Will and in His Way. Called Him on His promises like she knew Him. Held Him to His word, gave it back to Him. Told Him she wasn’t letting go His unchanging hand. Put her foot down on it and wouldn’t back up off it. Told Him though you slay me yet will I trust you the more. Told Him how much she loved, needed, leaned and depended on Him. Walked through her home speaking in unknown tongues. Touching and anointing the walls with holy hands. Stomping her foot, raising her arms, reaching and grabbing like she was snatching something right out the air. Quickening, that’s what she was doing. Shouting every scripture with a rumbling in her voice stirring the spirit in her soul. Igniting the power of the Holy Ghost. JE had a praying mother.

Raised along the Great Ohio River, just north of its convergence with the Mighty Mississippi. Where the Cairo Mississippi and Cairo Ohio River steel truss bridges joined Illinois to Missouri and Kentucky. Where Villa Ridge was seated in Pulaski County on 470 acres. Where Native mounds, earthen formations like flattened hills and mountains were replaced with development and farming. In a segregated Mound City, Illinois, late winter early Spring 1961, James Earnest Howard came home to leave.

“Front Porches & Corner Stores” The Holy Ghost

“Son! Wasn’t no visitation, the anointing aint fell, and JE you still aint saved. Lord have mercy on yo soul.  Come back tomorrow get on this altar and don't you leave till the Holy Ghost come!”

JE never did.

The organist was so full of the spirit he left his body. His fingers were running up and down the keyboard. Moving. Pushing repetitive rhythms higher and higher on top of the saints of God incessantly chanting, “Power Lord!” Tossing the song from one side of the room to the other for hours. The minute one person stopped singing another one started. The momentum was so strong, they couldn’t stop, they were locked into a sacred space in time that ushered in God's presence like a lion was in the window ready to roar. The church got caught up.  Young people were zealous. Ushers barely had time to grab enough sheets to cover long legs under short dresses with no stockings. They fell out under the anointing and when they came to themselves, they cried, ran, and gave their lives to the Lord.

The pastor was preaching hard. Sweating like he was driving a jack hammer straight through five miles of concrete busting up fallow ground. Snatching young souls from the gates of hell, throwing em over on the altar. Deacons were struggling to wipe his brow and keep up with him. Missionaries were holding backs and bellies in hands, whispering in ears, “Say Thank you Jesus! Thank Him outta yo belly! Give up to Him! Hold on to Him!” Church mothers were walking, guarding the alter floor with intercessory prayer. Stooping and rising, stooping and rising. Arms lifting in praise like angel wings. Quickening, pulling down and casting out everything that wasn’t like God.

“Front Porches & Corner Stores” Chicago

“All Around My Goose Is It, Red Light Green Light and Red Rover, Red Rover Send Donna and Debbie Right Over”

Black Southern families arrived bringing values with them. Maybe it came from the South, maybe the Motherland, but whatever it was it was there. A closeness, a sense of belonging. A way of being that permeated the projects, transforming them into African villages where children were raised by communities. Where a warmth lulled them to sleep for generations. Where they thrived amongst the poverty. Where children didn’t know they were poor because everybody was poor. Their world was as far as feet and the CTA bus could take them. ABLA, the sum total of Jane Addams, Robert Brooks, Loomis Courts and Grace Abbott Homes. A group of projects that housed more than 17,000 residents within a surrounding community of Italians, Jews, Greeks, Hispanics and Asians that barely touched except when money left black hands. The main event was the tradition of black children going back down south for the summer to stay connected to family.

Time kept the tempo, holidays and events brought in the rhythm. The beat was in the pulse of everything that happened, every nuance that made a difference when time and chance happened to them all. School started in September and ended in June. Time was measured punctuated by seasons, the beginning and ending of the school year was the constant reminder that time was passing and children were growing. It was how life transitioned. Every day and time had its own unique flavor. But daily routines were similar if not the same in every household.

Mornings began with bowls of warm Malt O Meal in the winter, boxes of Corn Flakes in the summer. Working men hurried off with lunchboxes of last night’s dinner in hand and a metal coffee thermos. Black and white televisions were turned to Channel 9 for children to watch Garfield Goose and Friends on their way out the door to school. Babysitters stood wait in doorways for toddlers not old enough for Head Start. Gorgeous stay at home mothers with shapely bodies that fashioned dusters, hair styled like Diana Ross and the Supremes, with made up faces like they were going somewhere, smelling like Avon’s Unforgettable; ready to receive and care for babies like aunties. They laid them asleep on living room sofas when they cooked and cleaned. They bounced them on laps while they watched “As the World Turns” with soap opera music cascading in the background. Modestly dressed church women walked the buildings like warriors ready to do battle witnessing in breezeways and knocking on doors offering prayer knowing the devil was always busy trying to see what he could kill steal and destroy. 

Afternoon smells of fresh picked collard greens bubbling in salt pork. Well-seasoned meats graced the air throughout the building. Smothered pork chops basting in mushroom sauce. Chicken rolled in flour and corn starch fried crisp, sitting straight up in huge black cast iron skillets full of hot sizzling lard in time for dinner.

Open campus gave children a chance to come home to eat lunch. A bowl of Campbells Soup with oyster crackers. Hostess donuts pies and cakes were a treat with a tall glass of Borden’s’ Dutch Chocolate milk. They rushed home from school and fights and threats to have eyes blackened at 3:15. Visited friends and sat up in front of televisions watching Dark Shadows with Barnabas Collins. Dipped vanilla cookies in thick white cow’s milk. Spread peanut butter and jelly on sliced white Wonder bread.

“Front Porches & Corner Stores” Seeing Down the Road

“Everything was suspended in the midst of a miracle, none of em noticed Addiemae walking not even Addiemae.”

The pastor gave wise counsel. He had the gift of seeing down the road. JE and Honey would not divorce, Addiemae was free to move on with her life and all three were at peace. Hung over from the prayer they sat and listened to the choir rehearse and left drunk in the spirit as they walked down the road to the house. Evening fell and the fireflies came out for the night. For some reason, even though their spirits were quiet Addiemae sang out loud. They saw Daddy, Mother Howard, Rufus and Emma sitting on the soft amber lit porch resting from the day. There was a peace they dared not disturb. They let it linger. Addiemae finished her song and sighed. “It sho is a sweet spirit in the air.”

JE agreed, “Yeah, but more than that. The Lord touched us tonight.”

Mother Howard saw em walking toward the house and heard the sound of Addiemae’s anointed alto voice singing “Sweet Holy Spirit” from afar off; she hadn’t sang like that since she was a teenager. “Lord have mercy, will you listen to that girl singing like an angel! If I’d known fussing woulda made em act like this, I’d done it a long time ago. I guess they heard something good huh Emma?”

“Nawl Dd. It looks like they got what they needed. I can see the healing. Look closer, Addiemae is walking. She not limping. Aint no cane in her hand. The Lord done healed her body!”

Mother Howard stood up again and cried out. “Oh my God Earnest, she is. My baby is walking! Look at her! She walking Ernest!” She could barely stand up straight for praising the Lord. Daddy Howard let her go on for a while then he said, “Leave em be y’all. It’s a sacred time, the Lord still healing. Come inside fore they get here, get to talking and quench the spirit. Come on Dd we need our rest.” He reached for Mother Howard’s arm to help her along. As they started walking, he looked back, “Rufus, you and Emma too.”

By the time they made it to the house the porch was empty. Addiemae hugged them, said goodnight, went inside singing, climbed the stairs without a struggle and the cane the pastor took away. Everything was suspended in the midst of a miracle, none of em noticed Addiemae walking…not even Addiemae.