“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.
