I recently had the pleasure of visiting my Grandmother in her small hometown, Wilson NC.
Quaint and Sweet the town is, the history tells of the chilling stories reality of Segregation during the Jim Crow era and yet in this day in age the neighbors are a mix of Black and White.
Downtown Wilson is comprised of a few streets where a cafe, a theater, retail stores and such lay on the corners. Dance Studio B holds a special place in my heart, it's where I and a few visiting young cousins put on an exclusive performance for my Great-Grandmother Addie Hoskins before her passing. The Matriarch of the Family since 1924, she is who the family went down south to see.
We spent summer days on her porch or out back.
The young women, in the kitchen making biscuits...
The children chasing each other around the front yard or swinging from the Family tree...
The young men strolling or fixing cars, planning moves for the evening.
Wilson was quiet, gentle but rough--like kicking rocks with no shoes on.
I was taken by the charm of South accents and kindness at the cash registers.
And made myself a regular customer at store called "The Clothes Line".
My Grandmother, First Daughter of Addie Hoskins-- New Matriarch of the Hoskins-Harley Family.
She was was smitten by a native Baltimore Artist who'd moved down south with her husband and made something of a space for paintings, crafts, mosaics and other artists to share their expertise.
My trip ended with long drives passing by the Redwood Trees.
Tall and Stoic, with bark like red flesh meat you'd pull from a chicken.
The trees bear the stories of time, carry the spirit of our Ancestors who'd gather in the woods and talk about what was necessary to go on.
I am grateful for the time spent with loved ones, for the encouragement of my elders and for the simply being in the presence of simplicity.
Quaint and Sweet the town is, the history tells of the chilling stories reality of Segregation during the Jim Crow era and yet in this day in age the neighbors are a mix of Black and White.
We spent summer days on her porch or out back.
The young women, in the kitchen making biscuits...
The children chasing each other around the front yard or swinging from the Family tree...
The young men strolling or fixing cars, planning moves for the evening.
Wilson was quiet, gentle but rough--like kicking rocks with no shoes on.
I was taken by the charm of South accents and kindness at the cash registers.
And made myself a regular customer at store called "The Clothes Line".
My Grandmother, First Daughter of Addie Hoskins-- New Matriarch of the Hoskins-Harley Family.
She was was smitten by a native Baltimore Artist who'd moved down south with her husband and made something of a space for paintings, crafts, mosaics and other artists to share their expertise.My trip ended with long drives passing by the Redwood Trees.
Tall and Stoic, with bark like red flesh meat you'd pull from a chicken.
The trees bear the stories of time, carry the spirit of our Ancestors who'd gather in the woods and talk about what was necessary to go on.
I am grateful for the time spent with loved ones, for the encouragement of my elders and for the simply being in the presence of simplicity.
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