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Saturday, June 22, 2024

Stirred Memories

 I have never watched the film but I just finished with a library copy of the audiobook "The Help". It stirred up memories of a job my mother once had.

I was born in 1961 and when I was about 3 or 4 years old, my mother had a job working for a white lady in Texas. Mama was a military wife and Daddy was temporarily based out, I think. So Mama stayed behind in the Midland/Big Spring area. 

The lady mama worked for was another military wife but her husband was an officer. She had a daughter about my age - I think we were within a few months of each other's age. I will call the mother Anna and the daughter Jane.

My mother's experience working for Anna was not much like what was portrayed in the book. But she did look after Jane and she did light housework for Anna. 

As I was listening to the fictional story, I kept recalling bits and pieces of what my mother told me and my sister about her years (it was almost 2 years, I believe) working for Anna. In my mother's case, she and Anna treated each other more like friends than anything else. She called Anna by her first name and Anna called her by her first name. My mother and Anna often had coffee and light meals together when Anna wasn't out doing whatever she and the other officer's wives did during their days. I believe Anna spent time with scheduled socializing - lunching, organizing drives and such. 

I did ask my mother what it was that she did for Miss Anna ("Miss" because I was raised right, not because Anna was better than us) and she said she did some laundry and took care of Jane during the day. Basically, Jane was at our house as much as Mama was at Anna's. 

The one thing about my mother's situation that matches the ladies portrayed in The Help was that she and Anna didn't socialize much outside the hours Mama was working for her. I cannot imagine that either of the women would even want to spend time together outside Mama's working hours. This was around 1963 and both ladies were Texas born. Their relationship was probably oddly casual and friendly for the times as it was. 

The only reason my mother ever told us about Miss Anna was that she and Mama exchanged Christmas cards for years and I asked about this woman who stayed in touch As we moved around the U.S., somehow the two women kept in touch that way. When Miss Anna died (I think I was about almost 30) Jane called to let Mama know and she took up the Christmas card exchange. Jane sent photos of herself and her young family for several years. 

We made a move from Alaska to Arizona and Mama and Jane lost touch with each other. I don't remember if it was because we'd moved or that Jane had moved and somehow a card didn't get forwarded.

When Mama died and we were all going through old photos and scrapbooks, we ran across a photo of Anna and Jane when Jane must have been about 7 or 8. We only knew who they were because their names and date were noted on the back. I'd never thought before about what Anna and Jane must have looked like. In the old photo, they looked like any other mother and daughter of that time. They were posing side by side in summer clothes and they looked very touristy. Miss Anna was very tall and thin and she was holding a lit cigarette in one hand while her other hand was resting on the back of Jane's neck. She wore large sunglasses and had a scarf tied over the back part of her hair. Jane had her head tilted and one eye squinted against the sun. She was lanky and plain but looked happy. 

Listening to the fictional story about black maids with their white employers, I tried to picture Mama ever being in such a bad position as some of those women and I just could not. Mama had put up with people calling her "colored" back in the day because that wasn't impolite at the time but I remember she once sniped at a man in a grocery store when he casually addressed her as "gal". 

Mama might not have had to deal with the indignities of those fictional maids but I remember things from the late sixties and early seventies that still shock me now. I remember traveling as a family when Daddy was reassigned from one base to another. There were places it was not safe for a black family to drive through at night. There were many lodging places we weren't welcome to stay so we would sleep in the station wagon. 

It's probably hard for someone younger than I am to even imagine a time when racism was so blatant and tolerated.  Most younger folks probably feel like that was a time way, way back in the past. But I am 63. My paternal grandfather's mother (I have her obituary) was the daughter of slaves. She was treated not better than a slave because of the times and place in which she lived.

Doesn't it feel like slavery was so much longer ago? Sometimes, my young relatives are astounded to know that I met this woman who was the daughter of slaves. I think this is when I was about 7 or 8 years old and, for some reason, I remember her clearly.

I'm just sitting here now, thinking about all these connections to the past. I'm thinking about how far we all as citizens have come and it somehow doesn't seem far enough. Time is so weird.

My step-grandmother who died just 4 years ago was a little girl of about 10 when Bonnie and Clyde were doing their thing.

Weird, right? Think about people in your own family. What famous event or person was current when they were alive? What news was making the headlines? What were they learning in school? It can be very interesting to think about.

Time is weird and strange and wonderful. I spend a lot of time thinking about it.

Anyway, I wish my mother was here because I have so many questions about times that are only secondhand memories for me.

Peace

--Free