Cornbread in Buttermilk: The Delicacies of Love and Sacrifice

By The Buntyn Family

This book is a panoramic view of a source of empowerment that was not recognized initially during the actual moments. However, with more hindsight, the proper honor and respect is now given to a matriarch of our family, with better clarity and significance. To her, as well as to others from the Southern states, cornbread in buttermilk was considered as a delicacy, yet for the Buntyn family, Cornbread in Buttermilk symbolizes The Delicacies of Love and Sacrifice.

Through the snapshots of life with our grandmother, Pappie, you will be inspired to recapture the fleeting values in our social structure: fear (reverence) of God, faith in family, and fundamental education.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514413081

The Buntyn Family

Dr. William H. Buntyn was born in the district of Harlem in New York City, New York and raised by his grandmother. He served in the United States Air Force for more than twenty-two years. He is a graduate from Palo Alto College and St. Mary’s University in San Antonio, Texas. He later earned his doctorate in ministry and PhD from Minnesota Graduate School of Theology. He is also a certified teacher in secondary education. Dr. Buntyn is an ordained and licensed minister serving at the Christian House of Prayer in Killeen, Texas, since September 1997. He has been preaching and teaching God’s Word since his acceptance of Christ in 1982. Over a two-year period, he has served as an administrator and a teacher of the church’s Bible school, Speak the Word School of Ministry. He presently serves as an elder, overseeing pastoral care ministry. He has a passion for souls and building strong marriage and family relations. He is married to Juanita Buntyn, his wife and friend of thirty-eight years. He chooses to capsulate all academic accolades and civil accomplishments by the statement, “I am what I am by the grace of God.” My life’s biography is summarized in 1 Timothy 1:12–15: “As chief of sinners I am an obtainer of God’s mercy and participant in God’s grace.”

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Copyright © 2015 by The Buntyn Family.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015916153

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5144-1306-7

                Softcover       978-1-5144-1307-4

                eBook            978-1-5144-1308-1

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Rev. date: 05/31/2016

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Preface

Introduction

Ina Rae Buntyn: An Epitaph in Ina's Behalf

William H. Buntyn: A Good Soldier

Paul E. Buntyn: 114th Street

Cynthia (Buntyn) Sowell: Corn Bread in Buttermilk

Bernadette (Buntyn) Crosby: Pithy Quips and Quotable Quotes

Bernadine (Buntyn) Virani: The Protector

Corn Bread in Buttermilk: The Poem

But at the table all six would be

Never to starve she would see

Never to starve she would see

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March 20, 1896--October 21, 1987

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have been told that a page of acknowledgments is not absolutely needed for the publishing of this book. While that may be true, I'm reminded of an article written by an unknown author that has been used frequently in messages offered by preachers. It was about a little lad who was located behind the stage, out of the sight of a huge audience, at a concert. The young lad's purpose was to pump air into the organ. In front of the stage was the concert organist, who stood, bowed, and absorbed the applause from the crowd. The crowd gave him a standing ovation as they cheered, Encore!

Moved by the cheers, the concert artist stated, "I will now offer a special selection prepared especially for this moment, and when he sat down to play, he pressed the keys and pedaled the organ---but no sound came out. There was complete silence except for a young voice coming from backstage, saying, Say we."

Whether the acknowledgments may or may not be needed, it is still appropriate to acknowledge and express the gratitude of the family to those individuals who have been instrumental toward the publishing of this book.

We thank Robin Williams for her valuable time and for providing a place where we could meet to brainstorm and put the initial work together. We also thank Olga Wise for her editing skills and challenging us with thought-provoking questions that were the impetus toward producing a book that would reach and capture our audience. A special thanks to Mark Cockrell for suggesting that I read, The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson. We thank our friends who grew up with us on 114th Street and who attended church, shared meals, and tears together. We are also thankful to the Lord for lending Pappie to us the number years she was with us. She had sacrificed her life so that we could become more responsible citizens in our community.

Now, as you sit at your tables to give thanks to the Lord, remember to pass the corn bread around the table of your world so that others can appreciate your Corn Bread in Buttermilk: The Delicacies of Love and Sacrifice.

PREFACE

T his family tribute has been written and awarded posthumously to our beloved grandmother, the venerable Emma Lee Buntyn. She was the woman who adorned the Buntyn household with a matriarchal spirit. Through her sacrifice and love, she provided us with the necessary ingredients to a more successful life than her own, thereby making us responsible for our own successes or failures. She did not allow us to use our living condition as rationale for failure. She would always say, Nothing beats a failure but a try.

All of us were born in Harlem, New York, with Ina, who was born in Denison, Texas, as the exception. The period of our births spreads throughout the 1940s and 1950s. In many families during that era---depending on which part of the United States you were from---the woman who adorned the matriarchal spirit was lovingly recognized as Big Momma. Although that was true for many families, it wasn't so for the Buntyn household. She was better known to us as Pappie. Ina, the eldest of six siblings, was the first to call her that. The rest of us, without questioning, followed suit.

Pappie was well respected by the people in the community and by businesses in the neighborhood, but she would not have won the Ms. Congeniality contest. No, she was of a stern and unchanging character and didn't put up with anyone's sass. (That's a forgotten word, especially when it comes to the disrespectful way some children relate with adults.) Pappie governed with a philosophy that would forever be tattooed on our posteriors. She would say, The whuppin' you're getting hurts me more than it does you. Although we found that difficult to believe at that time, she'd commence---whop, whop, whop! Now that we are older and have children of our own, we have come to realize the hurt she must have felt with whipping the ones she loved. Whippings, I might add, were applicable to anyone within her reach, regardless of age, if she felt you needed it. I was an eyewitness to her whipping my father. Oh yes, she did. Of course, he took it playfully, but Pappie wasn't playing. She said, You may not cry, but at least I'd passed the lick. Whop, whop, whop!

In today's society, Pappie's disciplinary practices may be frowned on or even considered abusive. But in her eyes, Pappie was adhering to biblical counsel. She believed it would be child abuse without her method of discipline. In a neighborhood such as ours, she did what was necessary. In other words, she did not spare us the rod. This is not to say that she was perfect or without flaws; moreover, I do know beyond a shadow of a doubt that those who knew her would clean up their act when they would come into her company. She was a rare breed of a parent, at the threshold of extinction.

We learned at a later period in our lives that our mother had an older son, James McCain Jr. After the divorce between our parents, our mother gave birth to our youngest sister Denise Montgomery. Hence, there were eight siblings; however, Pappie raised six of her son's children. She wrote her own epitaph on the tablets of our hearts, and we six siblings would in turn like to make this written contribution to her memory. We, therefore invite you into her kitchen, where all six of us would usually convene for meals and mischief. Please pull up a chair and join us now as we proceed around the table, starting with Ina. Come on in and dine with us.

INTRODUCTION

T he aroma of Pappie's fried chicken permeated the two-bedroom apartment in which the seven of us lived. In concert with that fragrance were the sound and smell of turnip greens percolating on the stove. Oh, there was tater salad in the refrigerator, of course, and the corn bread was yet to be made. Pappie had a unique way of frying chicken. After dredging the chicken in her seasoned flour, she would meticulously place every single piece of chicken, like a snuggly fitted jigsaw puzzle, in a hot number 3 cast-iron skillet filled with lard or Crisco. Man, there was nothing like the crispy coating on Pappie's fried chicken.

As younger children, we weren't allowed to cook without supervision. Pappie believed the gas-powered stove was jus' too dange'ous, as she would say it. Ina was the only exception because she was the eldest among the Buntyn siblings. However, two of the boys, Paul and I, like mad scientists in a lab, would experiment on the stove when Pappie was away. The two of us would cook up forbidden concoctions, like live roach cremations. In other words, we would capture the creepy crawlers and place them on slivers of paper. Meanwhile, we would have one of the gas jets on, allowing the gas to escape without lighting it. Back then gas stoves did not have pilot lights to ignite the jet. Could you feel the combustion as we ignited the gas jet, setting aflame the cockroaches while occasionally singeing the bangs and brows of onlooking sisters? A psychologist might diagnose those behaviors as a slight case of adolescent pyromania.

No, Pappie did not trust us with the gas stove, and rightfully so. Nevertheless, when she would call us to dinner, we would quickly assemble around the table. Pappie would have us seated in chronological order, with Ina, being the oldest, at the head of the table---except on the rare and happy occasion when Daddy would be present, then that would be his seat. Billy's seat was to the right of Ina, while Paul's seat was to the left, alternated with Cynthia, Dine, and then Dette.

Once we were seated at the table, all foolishness was supposed to cease, and you sho'nuff shouldn't touch a thing until whoever was at the head of the table had prayed, and then each of us would recite our individual Bible verses. This was a typical prayer offered by Daddy: Jesus, make us true with humble thanks for the food we are about to receive. May it be for the nourishment for our bodies in Christ's sake. Then we would proceed with saying our Bible verses around the table.

Ina: It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Billy: "Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness for they shall be filled." Extra emphasis was placed on hunger and thirst and filled because what other reason was there to come to the table?

Paul: Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy.

Cynthia: He has made everything beautiful in His time.

Then the twins would follow.

Dine: The Lord is in His holy temple; let all the earth be silent before Him.

Finally, Dette: In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.

Dad would conclude with Rise, Peter: slay and eat then follow up with a shout, Chow! And the feasting would commence.

The lessons we've learned from Pappie and the memories around her kitchen table have had an indelible influence on each of us as we have journeyed on with our lives. It is from her table that the six of us have shared from her bounty of love, life, and laughter. This tribute to Pappie will begin with our salute to Ina, who is now waiting for us to join her at the Master's table in heaven.

But at the table all six would be

Never to starve she would see

Never to starve she would see

INA RAE BUNTYN

October 29, 1944--August 5, 2000

Preparation before Relocation

I na, as it was aforementioned, was the eldest of the Buntyn siblings. She was born in Denison, Texas, but reared in Harlem, a large neighborhood heavily populated by black Americans located in Manhattan, New York City. Speaking on behalf of