Read an Excerpt
Soul to Sole
The Views from the Shoes
By Carolyn Evaughn Knowles iUniverse LLC
Copyright © 2014 Carolyn Evaughn Knowles
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4917-3292-2
CHAPTER 1
The Unveiling
"Take 'um ... Take 'um! We don't want 'um!" These are the horrible words spewed at the newborn child.
It is 1924 in Charleston, South Carolina. The scene is a small, one bedroom shack, where a "girl baby" is about to be born. She would be the first child allowed to live. You see, her mother had been pregnant before, but each time she had to get rid of the baby before it lived. Her mother did not work and she was the "bread winner" for the family. Therefore, each time she got pregnant, her mother made her abort the baby. However, this time, neighbors said, "Enough is enough! You will not kill this one." Therefore, when the time came, they summoned for Miss Susie, the elderly local midwife, who delivered this new soul into the world.
After she cut the umbilical cord, Miss Susie put the baby in a rocking chair. Excrement from the placenta formed a dark veil over the baby's small face. Miss Susie immediately spun into action, cutting the net and removing the waste material from the baby's body. This was the dramatic entry of Lucille into the world, which was a harbinger of things to come.
Her birth mother and grandmother chose not to keep baby Lucille. So what now? Crying inconsolably, Lucille captured the heart of Miss Susie and thus began a mother-daughter relationship, as Miss Susie decided to raise Lucille as her own.
What could have been a tragedy became a miracle. In essence, what the devil meant for bad, God used for good. Who would have thought the right person, with the right skills, would show up at the right time to fulfill the will of God, which was life, and not death, for Lucille. Apparently, Miss Susie was on a mission from God that brought together a total stranger and a helpless child.
Lucille's Voice and Vernacular
My name is Lucille Brown; Lucille Brown Bennett; Lucille Brown Bennett Floyd. But it could have been Lucille Morgan; Lucille Morgan Bennett; Lucille Morgan Bennett Floyd. Or, it could have been Lucille Flynn; Lucille Flynn Bennett; Lucille Flynn Bennett Floyd. You wonder how could one person have so many possible names? Well, I am glad you asked. I was born to an unwed mother whose last name was Morgan. However, my adopted mother's last name was Brown. My birth father's last name was Flynn. My first husband's last name was Bennett and my second husband's last name was Floyd. The name that I carry to this day is Lucille B. Floyd and the "B" is for Brown. That is because I truly value that "B" for it represents the "B" from my adopted mother, Susan Brown. She chose me.
My adopted parents were great. Stephen Brown was my adopted dad, but he died when I was a small child. I do not remember much about him. Susan Brown was a wonderful mom. She had a son named Henry, who was much older than me. I saw him as a father figure because Susan was really too old to actually be my mother.
Susan Brown was a strong, brave, and loving woman, who earned most of her living as a seamstress. I can remember how she made all my clothes, as well as suits for men. We initially lived in the city of Charleston, where I was born but later moved to her hometown of White Hall, SC. Mom left Charleston with me and her two grandchildren—Willie Mae and Allen—and never looked back.
White Hall was considered the deep, dark country. Willie Mae, Allen, and I had never seen live animals and were frightened by the cows, hogs, chickens, and snakes. When mom had to go into the woods to get kindling to keep us warm, Allen and I would cry until she returned. We innocently called the cows and hogs "big" and "little" dogs.
Mom had no stove. She cooked and kept us warm by a fireplace, called the chimney. She had to go into the woods to cut pieces of limbs that had fallen off trees. We all sat in front of the chimney to keep warm. We had never seen a big fire like that because we were used to a cooking stove. We thought it was strange that mom had to cook in the chimney.
Willie Mae was the youngest but the bravest. She never would cry and would yell after us to be quiet. I was the oldest and the biggest cry baby. Since Allen and Willie Mae were Susan's grandchildren, they were only in the country for a short time before they went back to the city to their mom. But I had to stay. At night, when mom would go to prayer meeting, she had to carry me on her back because I used to see things that she could not see, such as ghosts, and I was too frightened to walk alone. Mom would put me on her back and I would keep my eyes closed until we got home.
When I was with my mom in White Hall, SC, money was tight. As a child, I didn't process what it meant to be without so I would ask for things like all the other kids. Mom never told me no. When she didn't have money, she would catch one of her chickens, take it to the grocery store and sell it. She would then give the money to me to spend as I wanted.
I had never seen a live chicken and I was afraid of it. Why? Because one day I was sitting on the steps and a big chicken, which they called a rooster, hurt me. I used to have sores on my legs and that big rooster came up to me and pecked right into my sore and down came the blood. I ran into the house screaming. My mom cleaned me up. That left a lasting impression. Although I will eat all the chicken that I can get, I will never hold a live chicken in my hands.
I started school in the country without a birth certificate and I did not get one until I was eighteen. I was always smart in school. I remember there were three of us who always got to keep our seats in the front of the class because our grades were always very good. I never learned how to dance, ride a bike or skate, but I did enjoy playing games like hide and seek, jump rope, and hop scotch. As much as I loved my mom, I really did not like living in the country. It was so dark and scary. I kept asking my mom to let me go back to the city to live with my Aunt (her sister). Finally, when I was about twelve years old, she agreed and I moved back to Charleston.
Although I missed my mom, I was happy to be back in the city. I started at a new school and made some new friends. My aunt was pretty strict. All I could do was go to school and to church activities. I served on the usher board from the age of twelve and I also enjoyed singing. Sometimes my aunt allowed me to play at my friends' homes, but I had to be home before dark.
Sometimes there were fights in school, but I was always a scare-dy cat and never had a fight with anyone in my life. I will tell you this: I had many a good runs getting away from flying fists. When I saw a fight coming up, I would head in the other direction. I've never been one to witness a fight either. I had a cousin who was very nosy and would stick her mouth into every action at school. Someone would tell me my cousin was fighting on Hanover Street. I said, "OK," but then I would walk on Nassau Street, which was the next street over. If I got the message she was fighting on Nassau Street, I would walk to Hanover Street. I was just not one to fight, but I would go and get help—I would not be that help.
My aunt provided a loving home and stable environment for me but as the years went by and I began to get older, I realized more than ever that Susan Brown was too old to be my natural mother. I had always heard rumors about a woman who was supposedly my birth mother. Finally, curiosity stepped in and took over. I was determined to find out if there was any truth to the rumors. I began questioning my mom and my aunt and finally learned the truth. The stranger, Hattie, was indeed my mother. However, in the same breath that whispered her name, I was forbidden from making any attempts to see her.
As with all things forbidden, my interest peaked. After receiving confirmation that Hattie was my mother, I could not think of anything else, except meeting Hattie and getting to know her. I had so many questions. I had seen this beautiful woman in the neighborhood, walking to and from work. I thought we looked alike, as we both had big brown eyes and long black hair. Now, I couldn't wait to make a connection, or better yet, a love connection.
One day, I worked up the nerve to go to Hattie's house. I nervously walked up to the door and knocked. Hattie answered graciously. There was an immediate bond between us. We sat for a short while and talked, but I had to be on my way, knowing I would be in trouble if my mom or my aunt knew of my detour.
Hattie was overcome with happiness knowing that I did not hate her and actually wanted to know her. She then decided to also pursue seeing me by trying to visit me at my aunt's house. However, my mom and my aunt were not having it! They never forgot the way Hattie left me for dead in that old rocking chair. My mom and aunt wanted no part of Hattie and wanted me to have no part of her either. Hattie was determined to visit me. Each day after work she would try to come by the house but would be met with rocks and stones thrown by my aunt who wanted to deter her. Many days she would be bloodied from the stones, but she continued to try.
I was in the middle of an uncomfortable situation. I greatly loved my mom and my aunt, as they were the only family I had ever known. However, I had a real desire to establish a relationship with my birth mother as well as my half brothers and sisters. Therefore, I decided to not let Hattie continue to get stoned. To ensure we were able to see each other, I decided to make Hattie's house a stop along my way from school each day. This seemed to be a reasonable solution. Hattie and I talked about many things, including why she was forced to abandon me. My heart was touched by the sadness and genuine sorrow in Hattie's voice as she told her story, explaining the events that led to that terrible decision. This was the beginning of a loving friendship—not between a mother and daughter but more between friends.
While I was living with my aunt, my friend Louise and I were very close. Sometimes I was allowed to go and play with her at her house. She lived next door to this boy that I liked. But, I was too shy to talk to him. Louise would strike up a conversation with him for me, but I wouldn't say anything because I was so scared. As time went by, he and I became friends. I was then about fifteen and he wanted to marry me. I wanted to marry him too, but my mom was totally against it. She said I was too young. And, since he was a few years older than me, my mom thought he was too old for me. He decided to go into the military to wait for me to come of age. However, when he returned from his tour of duty, I had messed up. I got into a relationship with someone else, got pregnant and ended up dropping out of school. I then needed a birth certificate to get married. As I mentioned earlier, I never needed a birth certificate to get into school, so I never had one.
I married Leroy Bennett and after the baby was born I got a job at the American Tobacco Company, called the "Cigar Factory." I worked there for twenty seven years in between having children. At that time, as soon as the foreman found out you were pregnant, they suspended you and you could not go back until after the baby was born. There was no maternity leave. While you were out, you were broke.
I went back to work for another year but became pregnant with our second child and had to leave for the duration of the pregnancy. Leroy and I stayed married for a few years. As I look back, I can see that it was foolishness that caused us to separate. One day I told Leroy that there were so many bed bugs in the bed that were biting our sons and I was going to spray the bed down real good the next day. Well, upon arising the next day, I did just that. But in the process, I found a bottle full of hair, which looked like mine. I became concerned and I went upstairs to his aunt and asked her if she knew what this bottle of hair meant and why it would be under our bed. She said she had no idea. I then went downstairs to my aunt and asked the same question. My aunt told me to give the bottle of hair to her. She sent it to my mom, who was still in the country (White Hall, SC). When my mom got that bottle of hair, she took it to a "root doctor" in Beaufort, SC. My mom said when the "root doctor" opened the bottle all the hair immediately flew away. I did not understand all of that but the next thing I knew my mom came to our apartment in Charleston, stood at the bottom of the stairs, and commanded me to pack my bags and move out. Apparently, my mom felt that whatever was in that bottle was meant to hurt me. She felt that my husband had to have cut some of my hair while I was asleep and placed it in that bottle.
I was in a big dilemma. I really did not want to leave my husband, but my mom was commanding me to do so. If I knew then, what I know now, I would have stayed with my husband. But, instead, I was obedient to my mom. I thought if I did not listen to her, she would be mad at me and I would not have anyone. So, I moved out.
Every day, when I was coming home from work or church, I would see Leroy and he would ask me when I was coming back home with him. In my heart, I wanted to go but was afraid that my mom would not be pleased if I did. I believed that I needed my mom, especially to help me with my boys because Leroy was always without a job.
After a while, Leroy got tired of asking me to return. Instead, he decided to move to New York. He told me, once he got settled, he would send for me. Well, time passed and I had not received tickets for the boys and me to go. Then, one day his brother was in town and came by to see me. I asked him if Leroy told him to bring me back to New York with him. He said, "No." I was torn between being unhappy and happy. I remember writing to a lady minister who came on the radio on Sundays. I explained my situation to her and asked her if she thought I should leave Charleston and go to New York to be with my husband. She read the response to my letter over the radio and said, if it were her, she would stay where she was. To me, that was confirmation that I was to stay in Charleston. Leroy never sent for me, and I never went. That was the end of our relationship. He would send money to the boys every now and then but no real support. We became estranged.
As time went on, I re-engaged in a previous relationship and became pregnant. That relationship did not last. Since my last name was still Bennett at the time, my youngest son took on this last name too. Because I had to work and had no one to take care of my three boys, my mom took them with her to White Hall. I would visit them on the weekends and take money and supplies to help support them. Well, a few years later, my mom's house caught fire and burned down. She could no longer keep all three boys. I also worked part time in a grocery store for Mrs. Brown. When she heard of the misfortune, she offered to take me to White Hall to check up on my mom and the boys. While there, she suggested that I let her take the youngest boy to live with her in North Charleston for a while, until our situation got better. In the meantime, my mom was able to find a place for her and the two older boys in White Hall.
My younger son was readily accepted into Mrs. Brown's family. As a matter of fact, when they registered him to start school, they registered him with their last name. Although I was not so comfortable with this, I found a way to accept it, since my maiden name was Brown. I looked at this as a blessing. The Brown's took really good care of my son. I would go to visit him on weekends and would take him to the country to spend time with his two older brothers. I wanted to ensure that my children all knew each other.
Then the unthinkable happened. I went to visit my son one weekend and the Browns did not want me to see him. They felt it would be better if he just stayed with them all of the time. At this point I became very disturbed. It seemed they were no longer just trying to help but wanted to actually take my son away from me. I tried to enter the porch to go to see my son and Mr. Brown pushed me off the porch and told me I could not come in. I went back to Charleston and got the man I thought of as my dad (Henry Brown, who was really my mom's oldest son). He returned with me to North Charleston and demanded that the Browns allow me to see my son.
He told them they had better not ever lay another hand on me. I took my son away from them and took him to the country to be reunited with his brothers.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Soul to Sole by Carolyn Evaughn Knowles. Copyright © 2014 Carolyn Evaughn Knowles. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse LLC.
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