{"id":376,"date":"2016-04-05T19:45:20","date_gmt":"2016-04-05T23:45:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/?p=376"},"modified":"2016-04-05T19:45:20","modified_gmt":"2016-04-05T23:45:20","slug":"the-family-reunion-of-52","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/?p=376","title":{"rendered":"THE FAMILY REUNION OF \u201952"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"Mama<\/a>

Mama and Daddy sitting. Back row (L to R) Faye, Jerry, John, and Jean.<\/p><\/div>\n

\"IMG_0161\"<\/a>

Uncle Roy and Aunt Mame holding their first grandchild. Behind them are (L to R) son Joe, son-in-law T.J. Silvers, daughter Bess Silvers, and daughter, Pearl<\/p><\/div>\n

\"IMG_0162\"<\/a>

Uncle William and Aunt Hilde with son, Johnny. At Hilde’s left elbow, way in the background, is Faye, chewing her nails.<\/p><\/div>\n

My latest book, HALLEY, awarded 2015 Jefferson Cup Honor for Historical Fiction, awarded the 2015 Moonbeam Silver Medal for Young Adult Fiction, and the 2016 Frank Yerby Award for Fiction.<\/p>\n

My father\u2019s family wasn\u2019t big on family reunions.\u00a0 They used the Hopewell Baptist Church Homecoming every second Sunday in June as their extended family gathering.\u00a0 But one year someone decided we needed a genuine family reunion.\u00a0 I\u2019m sure it wasn\u2019t my mother.\u00a0 Only a few months before she had suffered a nervous breakdown, and was even more reluctant than ever to be in crowds. I still recall her grumbling as we loaded food dishes into the trunk of Daddy\u2019s financed Hudson Hornet.<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cI wish ever\u2019body would keep their tails at home where they ortta be,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cEver\u2019body could eat their own food at home and mind their own business.\u201d\u00a0 But at least she wasn\u2019t fussing about liquor.\u00a0 At this time Daddy was trying his best to stay sober, as he swore to do after a near death experience when he recently had pleurisy.\u00a0 He had unknowingly combined medications that formed a near lethal mix.\u00a0 In a constant struggle with alcohol craving, Daddy was nearly as nervous and cranky as Mama.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Us kids weren\u2019t getting along much better.\u00a0 I was fourteen, which these days is considered reason enough to be in a permanent bad mood.\u00a0 But there was more.\u00a0 I had a lot more responsibilities for housework and childcare since Mama\u2019s breakdown.\u00a0 Even worse, Daddy kept hinting to visiting relatives that \u201canother little un\u201d would solve all Mama\u2019s problems.\u00a0 I was sure it would only make everything worse. Since I had recently learned the \u201cFacts of Life\u201d from Reader\u2019s Digest, I knew that pregnancy could be prevented, and in my opinion, certainly should be in this case.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Then there was car seating to wrangle over.\u00a0 Jerry sat in front with Mama, because he was \u201cthe baby.\u201d\u00a0 That left Jean, John, and me to fight for the window seats in back. As I recall, the Hornet\u2019s backseat wasn\u2019t too roomy to begin with, and the middle position was worst of all.\u00a0 It was also the hottest place on this July day.\u00a0 Jean and John had been faster than me and were clinging like mud to the window positions when I shoved in.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Daddy solved that squabble.\u00a0 \u201cIf ya\u2019ll don\u2019t shut your traps, I\u2019ll pull out my belt and give you something to belly-ache about.\u201d I took the middle seat.<\/strong><\/p>\n

We began what seemed like a long, long drive from the Tunnel Hill community just above Dalton, Georgia, to Uncle Roy\u2019s house on Talking Rock Creek in Carter\u2019s Quarter.\u00a0 Likely it was a lot shorter than it should have been because one of Daddy\u2019s greatest thrills was \u201cshowing what the Hornet will do.\u201d As he whipped around curves and passed slower vehicles with inches to spare, Mama kept up a continuous wail.\u00a0 \u201cLord, have mercy, George!\u00a0 Slow down! You\u2019re going to kill us all, George.\u00a0 Don\u2019t pass.\u00a0 Don\u2019t pass two at a time! Lord, have mercy!\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

I guess the Lord heard Mama–we arrived intact at Uncle Roy and Aunt Mame\u2019s house.\u00a0 Many of the family had arrived earlier.\u00a0 Several wagons were parked around the yard.\u00a0 There were trucks and a few cars too.\u00a0 most of the newer vehicles belonged to the \u201crich\u201d Junkinses from somewhere over in Alabama.\u00a0 Daddy pulled up between the improvised picnic tables and the well where everybody could see his car.\u00a0 I knew that he would soon have the hood up and be showing every interested man or boy what a fine motor Hornets had.\u00a0 No doubt, he\u2019d be dangling the necktie he was wearing on to the motor.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Actually, he ended up pulling the tie off to wipe the oil dipstick.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Girl cousins all around were dressed in their best and some had brought their sweethearts.\u00a0 I heard some of the aunts asking Mama \u201cAin\u2019t Faye going out with the boys now?\u201d I burned with embarrassment and chewed at a\u00a0 fingernail as I pretended not to hear Mama\u2019s standard reply, \u201cNo, she don\u2019t care a thing about boys.\u201d She was right, and she was wrong.\u00a0 I was interested in the idea of dating, but scared of ending up like practically every married woman I knew–trapped with a domineering, abusive husband and a houseful of children.<\/strong><\/p>\n

If I could go back to that day, I would talk to all the older people at that gathering.\u00a0 I would ask grandparents, great grandparents, great aunts, and uncles about their lives, what happy things had happened, what scary things, what advice they would give me.\u00a0 But I was too young and too unhappy to see this opportunity.\u00a0 In the photographs taken that day,\u00a0 I can see the sadness in my face.\u00a0 In one photo I am in the background biting my nails.\u00a0 In our family grouping, Mama looks even sadder than I recall.\u00a0 She is 29 years old with four children, and, if my arithmetic is correct, the fifth one is barely on the way..\u00a0 As much as I didn\u2019t want him, Mike turned out to the baby I loved as if he were my own.\u00a0 A more beautiful baby I have never seen.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I remember one other thing about that long, long day.\u00a0 On the way home Daddy would not stop for me to pee.\u00a0 I begged, almost crying, but he just kept saying, \u201cYou can wait. No place to stop anyway, this late on a Sunday.\u201d\u00a0 Mama pointed out places, but Daddy ignored them.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Finally, I took the only option I had.\u00a0 In the darkness I eased up my skirt, tugged down my panties, and peed into the upholstery of the 1949 Hudson Hornet.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I\u2019m still not sorry I did it.\u00a0 And I still feel the relief.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My latest book, HALLEY, awarded 2015 Jefferson Cup Honor for Historical Fiction, awarded the 2015 Moonbeam Silver Medal for Young Adult Fiction, and the 2016 Frank Yerby Award for Fiction. My father\u2019s family wasn\u2019t big on family reunions.\u00a0 They used … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/376"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=376"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/376\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":383,"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/376\/revisions\/383"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=376"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=376"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.fayegibbons.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=376"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}