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It was the beginning of the 1960’s. President Kennedy was talkingabout going to the moon. And the first communications satellite had beensent up. Meanwhile, the realities on the ground were not so hopeful.Khrushchev, the leader of the USSR, was talking about extendingcommunism and threatening to blow up the U.S. There was a very “usversus them” feeling in the country and it existed not only with the USSR, but also between the races and the sexes. There were Jim Crow laws, and passive protests, and full out race riots. Only about 30 percent of Americanwives worked outside of the home and many families considered it a wasteof money to send a daughter to college.In this world of the early 1960’s, Laura began her day in whitesuburbia pretty much like all the other white suburban housewives. She gother daughter off to school and her husband off to his job. Then she did somehousework and dressed herself in the proper housewife attire of the day.But after that, things weren’t as clear. She didn’t have any friends toshare morning coffee with or meet for lunch. Though she attended churchregularly, she didn’t belong to any social groups there. She was never involved in local paper drives or bake sales, and she avoided the PTA. Shestayed almost entirely to herself, avoiding neighbors and letting the phonering if someone tried to call her to invite her out shopping. She even dressedin the most neutral of colors as if she were always trying to blend into the background.She was hiding from her past, you see. For in those days, nobody wentto therapists or even talked lightheartedly about “shrinks.” Family secretswere kept secret, or simply ignored. So, Laura had no one to help her copewith her past. She had to keep it hidden and handle it in the best way that sheknew how. The trouble was, though she could hide from the present byrefusing to answer the phone, she couldn’t hide from her past. So it alwayscame back to haunt her.It would start with the scent of her grandfather’s cigar. Somehow itwould waft into whatever room she was in, overpowering even breakfast andlaundry smells. She knew it only existed in her imagination because he waslong dead, but telling herself that wouldn’t make it go away. Before long she

started to hear echoes of her own little girl whimpers. They would seem tocome from the very walls of the old Victorian house that Laura now lived inwith her daughter and husband. Those whimpers would make her gag withremembrance. That’s when she would reach for the tranquilizers the doctor had given her.The doctor didn’t know about her past. Even doctors of that time triedto avoid talking of such things. But he knew she was “high strung.” So hekept her well stocked with pills to take whenever she felt excited or depressed. That is, until he was arrested for performing illegal abortions. The pills were addictive, but people weren’t as cautious about things like that back then. In Laura’s case, the pills were less dangerous than her memories.As the drugs took hold, the scent of her grandfather would fade and shecould remember instead the nicer people who had populated her childhoodin Tennessee.First and foremost there was Carole, their colored maid. “Colored”was the polite term they used for African Americans in those days. Carolewould come in every day, hardly ever taking a day off. She never said much.But she was always patient with young Laura and never scolded, not evenwhen she got dirty while playing. Carole would just wash the little girl’shands and tidy her dress before her grandmother saw her. Laura’sgrandmother expected her to live up to the family’s ideal of an upper classSouthern girl. She was supposed to be quiet and unassuming, with never aruffle or banana curl out of place.Laura’s grandmother expected Carole to follow certain ideals too, butit never seemed to bother Carole. No matter what Laura’s grandmother said,even if she said it very loud, Carole’s dark face would remain impassive.When the older woman’s tirade had finished Carole would only say, “Yes,Ma’am.” On the rare occasions that Laura’s grandfather spoke to Carole, shewould nod her head and keep her eyes averted.Looking back on it as an adult, Laura suspected that Carole knewwhat her grandfather was doing to her. And that she probably also knew her father had done the same thing before he gave up custody of her. “Not allmens are like your father and grandfather,” Carole would say to Laura whenthe child jumped at the sound of a man’s voice, or cringed with fear at amale neighbor’s polite salutation. Why would Carole have said that, Lauraasked herself, unless she knew?

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Luddite

A sobering story of courage despite great pain and brokenness. Thank you for posting it here. I'm going to subscribe to you so I can keep up to date on your work. If it's all this good, it well worth reading.

reply10 / 27 / 2009

A Thank You

In the early 1960's, a young mother who has trouble facing the demons of her childhood takes a small stand to give an indirect thank you to two of the people who showed her kind... (More)

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