Puff Ditch: In Memory of Charles Ross Strickland, the Man

By Ricky R Dickerson

In his attempt to draw back memories of his hometown and a beloved bandleader, Ricky Dickerson brings to life an era in the 60’s when the bond between African American students and teachers stride together against racial segregation. At the heart of this true story is Charles Strickland, a bandleader and school teacher, who sacrificed himself way beyond the mere teacher/student relationship. While his personal life seems driven by some internal force, he found himself tormented by a love that seems unobtainable. Puff Ditch, a unique and unusual title given to a story that’s unusually funny, informative, serious, compassionate, and romantic. Just a rollercoaster portrait of real life, leaps from the mind of a 5th grade African American kid growing up in Bastrop, Louisiana. With all the town’s colorful characters, you definitely want to find out how this story got its name; Puff Ditch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Apr 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483409634

Book preview

PUFF DITCH

IN MEMORY OF CHARLES ROSS STRICKLAND, THE-MAN

RICKY R DICKERSON

Copyright © 2014 Ricky R Dickerson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-0964-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-0963-4 (e)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 03/24/2014

Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

The Town

The Town Push For Change

Looking back at the Birth of Morehouse Parish Training School

Pillars of The Community

Colorful Character in the Community

Mr. Strickland, The-Man

Integration Comes to Town

In Summary, The Fear of Moving Forward

Lets’ hear it for the hometown?

About the Author

Acknowledgements

The completion of this project is pen on the encouragement given by my wife, Brenda Dickerson, who kept me from entertaining myself for so long with a story that deserved to be shared.

Melvin Skates, Kenneth Stokes, Donnie Levi, Lionel Lyons, Arthur White, Tony Todd, Andrea Watkins, Mildred Dickerson and Durnee Dickerson; dinner and the party will be at my house, thank you.

I would like to also thank all my beta readers for taking out the time to read this autobiography; Sarah Newman, Thelma Nadine King, Pauline Minnieweather, Diane Helms, LaDeedra Green, and Minnie Mackey, your insights were invaluable.

Special dedication to

Sariya, Kyla, Destiny, Shirri, and Chris,

who are the apples of my life.

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Introduction

L ate afternoon, August, 1964, the marching band ended another long day of rehearsals. Tall pines cast shadows over the marching field giving the impression of a breeze, but there was no breeze. August in Louisiana was hot and humid, shade or no s hade.

Mr. Strickland, the bandleader, dismissed several band members, those few who conducted themselves in a serious manner throughout the rehearsal, according to Mr. Strickland. If he caught you fooling around your chances of being dismissed in the first wave were slim, nonexistent really.

Pick’em up, said Mr. Strickland. He marched the tired musicians back and forth across the wide field. Two minutes later, he dismissed just one person from row one, two people from row three.

Everyone was exhausted, trying to maintain crisp marching steps in order to be called out of formation. It felt like being in the military, the rank and file being dismissed.

Mr. Strickland blew the whistle hanging around his neck. The whistle sounded out with four short bursts, which was the signal for the band to stop marching. I stood perfectly still, at attention, hoping he noticed the discipline and seriousness in me. It was close to dark, nightfall, and a swamp of tiny gnats hovered over my head. I remember thinking, "Why are they hovering and touching my head? It’s hot. Are they trying to suck the