A Visit to Edenton
Much to my mother's dismay I've never really been a reader. There is always a book on my bedside table, and sometimes I might get through 2 or maybe even 10 pages before falling asleep, but never have I strained to keep my eyes open or stayed up late just to get to the end of a book. And the only time I finish a book in one day is when I read Dr. Seuss to Isabelle (which can take a while since she desperately attempts to eat the cover as I try to turn each page)...until recently.
When I heard that my aunt Helen (my father's sister) had recently written a memoir about her life, I didn't give it too much thought, but certainly was looking forward to learning more about what life was like growing up in the small southern, segregated town of Edenton during the civil rights era. I finally got a hold of the 183 page typed manuscript, titled White Gloves and Collards: The Story of a Mama's Girl and quickly realized that I'd better set aside a nice long afternoon to read because I wasn't going to be able to put it down.
The memoir was written like a novel, full of stories with dialogue and intriguing characters. All of these "characters" were people that I knew or had heard about my entire life (my father one of them!) and I was so eager to learn more! You see, my father and aunt had a much different childhood than I did, not just because they grew up in a "Norman Rockwell -like" small town during segregation, but because they experienced the loss of a parent--not once, but twice.
My father will openly talk about these tragedies, but it was never enough for me. I wanted to know every little thing that he could remember about his mother and his father. Afterall, these were my grandparents! I was lucky enough to grow up knowing my other grandparents and spending summers and Christmases with them yearly. I've spent lots of time in my mother's hometown, playing in the house she grew up in, and really understanding what her childhood was like. And I do have many memories of family trips to the little town of Edenton -- hopping on the Revolutionary War cannons, running through the old Victorian home of my Great Aunt Lina, even staying in my father's childhood home. But my relationship with Nana and Bampum was so special and I would sometimes imagine what it would be like to have known my other grandparents. Would I have spent long afternoons in Edenton, laughing with my grandfather on the porch of their little house overooking the Abemarle Sound? Would I have listened to my grandmother, in her deep Eastern North Carolina accent, tell stories of little Norfleet?
Since my father's father died of throat cancer when he was just 8, his mother was forced to work and raise the 2 kids on her own, until she died of breast cancer 10 years later. Helen's memoir shares the hilarious and heartbreaking stories of their lives during those short years they had with their parents. And I couldn't get enough. I literally laughed out loud when I learned about the antics of my father as a young ("dorky") kid...it was no surprise that he won 1st place at the science fair after having put together the project in a few hours the night before, or that he read every page of the New York Times on Sundays, or that his innate sense of fairness was clearly something he was born with (unlike most people who have to learn it).
And boy did I cry...there were tears of joy and of sadness. I was so anxious to get to the end of the manuscript - the part where they lost their mother. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose your only living parent...your mother!!! But I also wanted to savor every word and fully digest every little detail leading up to it. Reading this memoir allowed me to step into their lives, learn more my family's history, and therefore more about what made me who I am. By the time I got through it, it was 2 AM, I had cried (lots), laughed hysterically, and LOVED my family more than ever. This visit to Edenton was so special and felt so real, and now I can't wait to go back with my own family, to share this place of history with them.
The fact is, this memoir is so beautifully written and I truly wouldn't be surprised if it gets published. As much as I've enjoyed hearing my father share stories of his past, I've never before felt so connected to his history and his family as I do now. Thank you, Aunt Helen, for your gift. It is something that I will treasure for years to come and will enjoy sharing with my family and the generations to follow.
Norfleet and Helen (silly old kids)
When I heard that my aunt Helen (my father's sister) had recently written a memoir about her life, I didn't give it too much thought, but certainly was looking forward to learning more about what life was like growing up in the small southern, segregated town of Edenton during the civil rights era. I finally got a hold of the 183 page typed manuscript, titled White Gloves and Collards: The Story of a Mama's Girl and quickly realized that I'd better set aside a nice long afternoon to read because I wasn't going to be able to put it down.
The memoir was written like a novel, full of stories with dialogue and intriguing characters. All of these "characters" were people that I knew or had heard about my entire life (my father one of them!) and I was so eager to learn more! You see, my father and aunt had a much different childhood than I did, not just because they grew up in a "Norman Rockwell -like" small town during segregation, but because they experienced the loss of a parent--not once, but twice.
My father will openly talk about these tragedies, but it was never enough for me. I wanted to know every little thing that he could remember about his mother and his father. Afterall, these were my grandparents! I was lucky enough to grow up knowing my other grandparents and spending summers and Christmases with them yearly. I've spent lots of time in my mother's hometown, playing in the house she grew up in, and really understanding what her childhood was like. And I do have many memories of family trips to the little town of Edenton -- hopping on the Revolutionary War cannons, running through the old Victorian home of my Great Aunt Lina, even staying in my father's childhood home. But my relationship with Nana and Bampum was so special and I would sometimes imagine what it would be like to have known my other grandparents. Would I have spent long afternoons in Edenton, laughing with my grandfather on the porch of their little house overooking the Abemarle Sound? Would I have listened to my grandmother, in her deep Eastern North Carolina accent, tell stories of little Norfleet?
Since my father's father died of throat cancer when he was just 8, his mother was forced to work and raise the 2 kids on her own, until she died of breast cancer 10 years later. Helen's memoir shares the hilarious and heartbreaking stories of their lives during those short years they had with their parents. And I couldn't get enough. I literally laughed out loud when I learned about the antics of my father as a young ("dorky") kid...it was no surprise that he won 1st place at the science fair after having put together the project in a few hours the night before, or that he read every page of the New York Times on Sundays, or that his innate sense of fairness was clearly something he was born with (unlike most people who have to learn it).
And boy did I cry...there were tears of joy and of sadness. I was so anxious to get to the end of the manuscript - the part where they lost their mother. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose your only living parent...your mother!!! But I also wanted to savor every word and fully digest every little detail leading up to it. Reading this memoir allowed me to step into their lives, learn more my family's history, and therefore more about what made me who I am. By the time I got through it, it was 2 AM, I had cried (lots), laughed hysterically, and LOVED my family more than ever. This visit to Edenton was so special and felt so real, and now I can't wait to go back with my own family, to share this place of history with them.
The fact is, this memoir is so beautifully written and I truly wouldn't be surprised if it gets published. As much as I've enjoyed hearing my father share stories of his past, I've never before felt so connected to his history and his family as I do now. Thank you, Aunt Helen, for your gift. It is something that I will treasure for years to come and will enjoy sharing with my family and the generations to follow.
The Prudens
Helen, Norfleet, and the kids Helen and Norfleet
(they were really creative with names)
Norfleet and Helen, silly little kids
Norfleet and Helen, silly little kids
Norfleet and Helen (silly old kids)
in front of their childhood home in Edenton
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