GROWING UP BALTIMORE

through the years while growing up, I seen my City of Baltimore change drastically.

  Starting out my life shined bright as any sunny day would.  Smiles and happiness seemed to be my pure destiny.  Much of my first 3 years of life, I spent going back & forth from mom's to grandma's.  Much of those times I lived with my grandparents.  I called grandma "Ma" and my mother addressed by her given name.  My father to, same introduction.  But instead of his real name, everyone called him by his nickname.  

My parents were married by the time I was born.  I made the third child and only girl. Spoiled brat.  Wanting to do right by love, the two moved into their first house together on Chester St in east Baltimore.  One of my father's sisters moved in with us. 

It didn't last long.  The two story red brick row house caught fire.  They blamed it on my oldest brother who was 3 at the time.  The fire destroyed everything.  We still had our lives.  Temporary homeless, we moved into the house my grandparents owned.  The 3 story row house was just across the street from my grandparents home they owned.

The entire household seemed happy to me.  Granddad didn't miss a thang.  He controlled what went on in all his houses

owned.  Even the 3 story apartment row home around the corner from his home.  Boy I tell you he didn't tolerate nonsense.  He knew if your were lying in a heartbeat.  Outsiders weren't welcome unless they were the insurance man or had official business with him.  Being retired by the time his grand kids started showing up, gave him something to do. Everyday us grand took over the house playing from the 3rd floor to the basement.  Gramps wasn't much of a big cooker.  He'd make sure we ate even if it was a syrup sandwich, grits or cream of wheat and drank percolated coffee.  Bread was cheap then. The man had patience when it came down to us kids.  It was the adults he didn't take no stuff off of.

With the grandchildren steady coming and my grandparents getting old, it caused differences in the loving couple.  Both had their own bedrooms after too many.  Pistol packing Annie and Shotgun Luke would separate for short spells to cool down. He'd load up his four door Cheverlote with food, clothing and blankets to take down South Carolina where is family originated from, still reside then.  While she'd pack suitecases and me then head her way of 3 different locations I was familiar with. Either up state Brooklyn, NY, down south to Virginia(Richmond & Lynchburg).  

Baltimore's Greyhound Bus station was located on Howard St, downtown then.  

I remember traveling out of town to those places.  Those long rides going and coming back home.  I still picture the open fields of growing vegetation and animals grazing the land. Things weren't the same.  Time.  Things were much faster up north than down south.  Lynchburg homes, to a small kid like me seemed to be miles apart.  Some had wood shack houses with wood burning stoves for cooking and heating the homes.  The outhouse for bathroom sewage was yards away from the main house.  The roads were still made of dirt.  I loved the feeling the setting gave.

Up north, Brooklyn settings looked way better to me.  The large brownstone homes looked like the occupants were richer than my grandparents.  The two large double doors were bigger than granddad's thick front door back in Baltimore.  The homes had huge vestibules, much bigger than ours.  Only three people could fit inside ours.  Now, theirs looked like half of a bedroom.  

The couple who lived in Brooklyn was granddad's niece.  They had one daughter who was my age and dark like me.  Her and I got along instantly.  I loved her just because she was a tad bit darker than me.  I finally found someone close to me who was near my skin tone.  As I got older my darkness became a problem.  Any how the years started passing fast.  It was time for school.  My first year of pre-K.  I was told I couldn't travel with granny anymore in the spirit of the moment when she felt like it. I cried my little heart out because I didn't understand.  I didn't want to understand separating from my grandmother.  Mom I could see anytime at home.  Grandma was leaving town.  

Trouble always brewed between mom and her father.  Even if she lived in her own house(grandparents owned)paid her rent every month, gramps still had say so in that house we stayed in.  He didn't want company in her house.  Mom had a mean streak like her father.  I can still picture after 40 something years, what went on the day she showed her boyfriend that side.  It was a clear sunny day.  Everybody was on the front steps laughing, having a good time.  Out of the blew my so called stepfather embarrassed mom in front of her family & friends.  As the evening started closing in, she let him think everything was Kosher.  She cooked, he ate.  She ran his bath water, he took a bath.  The house was like all the rest of the one on the block 3 story 5-6 bedrooms.  Scary to a 4 year old. Me.  Since I cried wolf by myself, my mother let me sleep on the left side of her bed every night.  He thought everything was still fine.  Tried to go to sleep. She went to work on his butt with a kitchen knife.  Mom started from the top of his right eye, down round his nose to his top lip.  It was hanging and bloody. Blood was everywhere.   That ended their relationship.  

My mother was a very attractive woman.  She had no problems getting a man.  Her problem was keeping one after that incident.  She was still in love with her husband, my father.  Mr GQ.  

   

Author's Note

*******HOPE YOU ENJOY PART OF MY STORY. I PLAN ON SELF PUBLISHING MY STORY.

Reviews

[ROXANE DORSEY]

need more to read, it's interesting!