Sonia Life

By Clarence Hunter

In the 1950s, the city of Alexandria, Louisiana, is home to a black neighborhood known as Sonia Quarters. The Sonia, as its residents call it, is filled with fascinating charactersamong them five teenage boys, for whom the summer of 1957 is especially memorable.

Curly, Joe, Willie T., Ray, and Harry work and hang out together, doing odd jobs for neighbors and getting into trouble. On the day of the stormHurricane Audreythe five boy spend the day going around town on safari. They meet up early in the morning and make all the stops, going to a forbidden swimming hole (where they encounter a crazy watchman), crossing a drainage pipe high above a canal, visiting the hobo jungle, and working at the zoo. The boys enjoy the day togetheronly to realize at the end that one of them will be leaving for good. And then, as the evening comes, so does the storm that will change the landscape of their hometown.

In this novel based on a true story, one man recalls his old neighborhood in central Louisiana and the people who lived there, going back to the places and events of one pivotal day as seen through the eyes of a fourteen-year-old boy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Aug 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781458217141

Clarence Hunter

Clarence Hunter was born in Alexandria, Louisiana and educated in New Orleans. He retired from the US Navy and from federal civil service. He was working in New Orleans as a professional tour guide and movie extra when he was uprooted by Hurricane Katrina. He has since returned to Alexandria, which recalled the memories that inspired this novel.

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Copyright © 2014 Clarence Hunter.

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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.

ISBN: 978-1-4582-1713-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-1715-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-1714-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014912379

Abbott Press rev. date: 07/29/2014

CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1:   Jump the Boogie and the Cotton Club

Chapter 2:   The Gambling Slab

Chapter 3:   The Last Saturday Safari

Chapter 4:   The Neighborhood

Chapter 5:   The Sawmill

Chapter 6:   Continuing the Safari

Chapter 7:   Walking the Pipe

Chapter 8:   The Hobo Jungle

Chapter 9:   The Incident at Zoo

Chapter 10:   The Wake

Chapter 11:   Ashes to Ashes

Chapter 12:   Hurricane Audrey

Chapter 13:   The Aftermath

Chapter 14:   Today

PREFACE

A FTER HURRICANE KATRINA I BOUNCED around from state to state for a while. Eventually I came back to Alexandria, Louisiana. I had been away for more than forty years. I left right after high school and never returned. I decided to go back and see my old neighborhood. We lived on a corner in one of the large black subdivisions in the city, known as the Sonia Quarters. Over time the name was shortened to simply the Sonia. All of the major railroads ran through the city because of its location in the center of the state. Most of my childhood memories are centered around the Sonia, the railroad tracks, and the canal that ran between the two.

One evening I went back to the old neighborhood. I stood on our corner and looked around. I remembered standing here often when I was a youngster. I saw this corner change overnight. These changes were made by Hurricane Audrey in the summer of 1957. This was not the only storm that had passed through, but it is the first named hurricane I remember. I decided these memories should be shared. The events that I remember are real. The names I am using are fictitious but are typical of names I remember from that time. So this is the Sonia, the people, and Hurricane Audrey.

CHAPTER 1

JUMP THE BOOGIE AND THE COTTON CLUB

I WAS ONE OF MANY young colored boys around the neighborhood during that time. We were not called black, and Negro was more official or formal. So for authenticity I will use the word colored when it’s appropriate. We were all over the neighborhood doing whatever odd jobs we could find to make a little pocket change, as there weren’t many jobs in Alexandria for boys like us. Work was plentiful in the Sonia if you didn’t mind digging somebody’s garden, catching runaway dogs and chickens, or crawling under somebody’s house to retrieve whatever. There were also no secrets in the neighborhood. News traveled so fast until the common saying was You could hear about something happening before it actually happened. If you heard some gossip, it was best to hear it more than once to see how many times the story changed.

One person I remember is Miss Ruby Pearl. She lived on our street. She had butter bean vines growing around her front porch that looked like a green curtain. That’s how she peeped at the neighborhood. She also played the piano. You could hear her singing and playing that big upright piano every Friday and Saturday evening. Everyone knew she was trying to block the sound of the jukebox on the corner and teenage radios with her church music. She never won.

Another interesting character was Mr. John T. Brogie. I always called him Mr. Brogie. I remember a lot about him. He lived right down the street from us. What’s interesting about him is how he came into the neighborhood, how he acquired his new name, and how the storm affected him. He moved in one Friday evening. His little house was in the middle of a block of shotgun houses. Houses like these were painted exactly alike with bright colors and were owned by white landlords. There were also a few single shotgun houses on the other side of the street along with a few double shotguns and bungalows. Other than the single shotguns, the other houses were owned by the colored families that lived in them. Mr. Brogie became a member of the community overnight. He pulled into the neighborhood with all of his belongings on a small work truck. The driver apparently owned the truck because he left after the furniture was off-loaded. Everything that happened in the neighborhood was an event, so when he pulled up that evening, some people came out on their front porches. Some stood on the sidewalk so they could see and hear everything. Somebody asked a question to no one in particular. Look at them colors he has on. I wonder if he is colorblind. Somebody else agreed. He had on a pink shirt and some royal blue suit pants that were held up by a belt and suspenders. He had taken off his big gray hat. He put a brick behind the screened door to hold it open. When he walked, he made a sort of dip with his left leg. As he walked, his shoulders and his hips moved in opposite ways as if he was dancing. But when he started to go down the three steps to the sidewalk, you could see why. His left leg didn’t bend. It was as if it was stuck in a striding position.

They started to off-load the truck. The little driver looked older than Mr. Brogie, and he looked tired. You could hear them discussing what piece to take off the truck next. One of the voices on one of the porches across the street said, He talk funny too. Wonder if he French. Mr. Brogie was the center of attention. I was standing on the sidewalk near the truck with my brother Joe, Willie T. and Ray, our next-door neighbors, and Harry, our friend. Joe stepped away from us and spoke directly to Mr. Brogie. He was our assumed leader. You want some help?

Mr. Brogie turned around so quickly he almost jumped around. Yea, yea, but I can’t pay all y’all.

We work together, so we can work fast, Joe said.

How old y’all?

We’re old enough to work. How much are you paying for us to unload the truck? Joe said instead of answering the question.

I give y’all tree dollar.

We can’t split that up. Give us five,