Out of Alabama, Into Mississippi: A Tale of Love and Sacrifice (eBook)

Terry Winfred Williamson (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
212 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-8219-0 (ISBN)

Infos

In Out of Alabama into Mississippi: A Tale of Love and Sacrifice, Terry Winfred Williamson unveils the tapestry of his childhood, woven with threads of joy, hardship, and indomitable family bonds. Born a twin in the deep south, Terry's narrative is a dual tale of playful mischief and a stark confrontation with prejudice and racism. The Williamson family's mantra, 'a strong family that lives together, shares love together,' was their armor against the systemic injustices they faced daily. Terry's father, a steadfast sharecropper, tirelessly worked lands that weren't his own, navigating the treacherous terrain of racial inequality and economic challenge.

Terry Williamson was born October 15, 1947 and his burning desire is to share love, family, relationships sports, music and art through his life experiences.

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In Out of Alabama into Mississippi: A Tale of Love and Sacrifice, TerryWinfred Williamson unveils the tapestry of his childhood, wovenwith threads of joy, hardship, and indomitable family bonds. Born atwin in the deep south, Terry's narrative is a dual tale of playful mischief and astark confrontation with prejudice and racism. The Williamson family's mantra,"e;a strong family that lives together, shares love together,"e; was their armor againstthe systemic injustices they faced daily. Terry's father, a steadfast sharecropper,tirelessly worked lands that weren't his own, navigating the treacherous terrainof racial inequality and economic challenge. But the Williamson spirit was never one to be subdued. Seeking better prospectsand escaping the confi nes of the south, they migrated to Albany, N.Y. This newbeginning saw Terry answering a spiritual calling, becoming a young minister,and later chasing his passion in culinary arts. His transformative journey, fromthe fi elds of Alabama to the bustling streets of Albany, is not just a personal talebut a refl ection of countless African American experiences. Through each chapter,Terry's memoir stands as a beacon, illuminating the power of faith, family, and theenduring human spirit in the face of adversity. Experience a story that transcendstime and place, affi rming that with love, resilience, and hope, one can trulytransform their destiny.

Textauszug

Introduction

My name is Terry Winfred Williamson. I’m a twin, and we are Libras, sons of a sharecropper from the Deep South. I love adventure and excitement; taking long journeys is something my twin and I loved as we grew up. My family had to endure many sacrifices during our stay in the South. We all had our hard times dealing with the struggles, the bigotry, prejudice, and jealousy from the white man, which made our lives a living nightmare in the early 1960s. The words “boy” and “nigger” were unpleasant words for us as little boys. My older brother Alvin hated those words with a passion. You will soon see, how his feelings became a great part of what we had to endure. The white man gave my older brother a hard time, and even their children called us those names with smiles on their faces as they laughed at us with pointing fingers—it was so degrading. Treating us like unwanted trash. We never played with white kids in our town, not even out in the country. It got to the point that something had to change before real trouble commenced. My parents had to get Alvin out of this one-stoplight town, with no time to spare. Making a transition to the North was my parents’ only option. The North changed our lives. We settled in the city of Albany, New York. The school system there gave me a great education; I earned my associate degree in the culinary arts. Get ready as I take you on a magnificent adventure of my life’s experience, in the form of words. My greatest hope is that my story touches you: the joy, sadness, drama, comedy, murder and suspense, and some lifesaving situations. Finally,… on to a wonderful love story. Remember, “Life is short, but death is sure.” Stay safe, and may God continue to bless us all.

T.T.F.N.

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ONE

Boy Meets Girl and Gets Hitched

I was born and raised in a small one-stoplight town called Waynesboro, a town where I was certain to make the expression, “Boys will be Boys” (repeated often by my mom) live up to its very description. It is a key factor in all that I am expressing and sharing with you and will keep you on the edge of your seat. So much so, that you may have problems putting this book down. There will be some twist and turns, mysteries and revelations; however, no matter which direction you’re taken, it will not let you down.

In looking back, I now realize that my twin and I were a gift, a blessing given to our parents from God. Remember my mantra—“A strong family that lives together shares love together”—this simple message: this story is for everyone near and far, especially for my own family. My family’s history starts in the state of Alabama, ending in the state of Mississippi. My grandparents were born here during the midst of slavery, during the sharecropping period, working for the white man, sometimes as field hands and sometimes as a stable boy. Although it’s very painful to know my grandparents were born and raised during slavery, the most delightful aspect of their story that I’d like to share with you is about my wonderful mother, Velma Davis, “a tall, slim, beautiful black woman” with self-discipline and a determined mind: characteristic of that Choctaw Indian blood, just like her mom. My brother Alvin told us as little boys, our mom would not hesitate to reach for the shot-gun when needed, and she wouldn’t be hesitant to use it as well. My father was aware of that; he made sure he didn’t make our mom upset in and around the house. Her focus: the ten siblings and their education and well-being, striving for a better life in the Deep South. Making a brighter future for the whole family; demonstrating that “A strong family that lives together shares love together.” She took charge of our family back in the early sixties; she’s number one in my book. Way to go, Mom! She was born and bred in the northern part of the good old state of Alabama in a small county town called Choctaw County. She was the middle child of several brothers and sisters. My mom’s parents had a large house, with several large rooms for everyone to share. One thing is for sure, they weren’t farmers. I’m not sure of the means of their income, but they didn’t struggle. I wonder if they had a car or maybe just a horse and wagon. The Davis family during this time considered themselves middle class, and they carried themselves in the same manner. They all went to school at some point or another. I know my mom attended school, but what grade she completed, that, I’m not sure. I do know she was smart just like the rest of her family.

I don’t know when or how my grandparents managed the hard times during that period. One thing is for sure—they all were Alabamians. It was before the period of the 1920s, and during this time my parents were born. My mom was born on September 28, 1919, and my dad on August 27, 1917. They both lived and grew up in the state of Alabama until young adulthood. Later, my mom would devise a plan that would change the lives of those two young people forever.

That change would involve eloping and crossing that mysterious Choctaw County line. This would turn out to be one of the best love stories ever lived. My mom is very smart and had a strong will and determination to boot. Here’s two young people making plans to one day cross over the state lines from the state of Alabama into the state of Mississippi (making me part Mississippian, and part Alabamian) just to make a better life for themselves. Looking back, I now have a clearer understanding of the hard times they had to endure. But look at the Williamson’s and Davis’s today, they are all doing well! I’m glad I had the opportunity to share this phenomenal history with my four sons.

Figure 1 Choctaw County Line

At an early age, I do remember some of my mom’s brothers and sisters. I remember Uncle Jack—I’m not sure if he was one of the oldest ones or not, there’s Uncle Herman the contractor and builder of homes, and Uncle J.C. He was the quietest one in the family. My mother’s sisters, as far as I can remember some of their names … there was Aunt Betsy and Aunt Irma Dee. They were all still living at home at the time with their parents, Vaden and Mary, during this time. We all know how parents are when it comes to their children, and they were very strict and protective, especially of their young girls.

My dad’s name is Andrew, he was also born and bred in the small country town called Deer Park in the southern part of the state of Alabama, and he was also a son of sharecroppers. Some folks had the tendency to look down on people who worked in the fields, but my dad had no care in the world. He was just a hard worker; he worked very hard every day.

My dad comes from a large family as well, there were ten brothers and sisters. On the boys’ side, not in any order—though I do believe my father was the second oldest—were Dan, Michael, Andrew, Stan, Jim boy, and Uncle James. Later, you will see why Uncle James was my favorite. They lived in this old, rusty house of a shack with no more than three rooms; the size of the rooms, I’m not sure. But there was room for everyone; my dad’s father, Augusta Williamson, and his wife, Mary Williamson, were strict. My grandfather was a very stingy and demanding man who controlled the house and all the finances. My father told me a story of how one day, my grandfather and his wife got into an argument. At one point my grandfather hit his wife on the head with a piece of firewood for not doing what he told her.

Figure 2 My grandfather Augusta Williamson, on my father side

Figure 3 My grandmother Mary Williamson, on my father side

In my grandfather’s house, all the cooking and heating was done with firewood. They had to cook with a potbelly cast iron stove. During this time every house had a fireplace; it was common all through their neighborhood in the South. They did all they could to make ends meet. One of the most important things is that they were all healthy, making life a little better for themselves. Even though my grandfather was a demanding and controlling man, he helped with the chores. Everyone did their share of chores around the house, and that’s the only way things could ever be. My mom had several girlfriends in her hometown; they would walk and talk about schoolwork and, of course, boys.

One of her friends came up to her, saying, “Velma! Have you heard?”

My mom said, “Heard what?”

She said, “There’s a fish fry this weekend next to the county fairground hosted by Choctaw County. There’s posters and flyers all over the area, I think we should make plans to attend. There will be lots of food and fun and it will last all day.”

Figure 4 This is my Grandmother Mary Davis

My mom said, “You don’t know my parents.”

Her girlfriend replied, “Yes, I know, I know! Are you okay with the plan?”

My mom said, “Girl, I’ll be ready.”

During this time my dad wasn’t attending school because everyone had to work the white man’s fields - this was common for Black families in the Deep South of Alabama at...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 30.12.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Biografien / Erfahrungsberichte
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-8219-0 / 9798350982190