Half Way Home from Kinderlou: The Happy Childhood Memories of a Grandfather

By Barbara A. McArtor and James Edward Alexander

Through a collection of short stories, a grandfather describes his happy  childhood in the small town of Valdosta, Georgia.  It was a simple time when children played simple games with simple toys. Those were the days when failure of a child to say "yes ma'am" and "yes sir" to grown folks was considered an act of disrespect which brought swift rebuke and punishment from the disrespected adult and the child’s parents.  Most homeowners in his neighborhood only dreamed of indoor plumbing, electric lights and home telephone service. 

            Despite the prevailing social order, dictated by racial segregation which choked the advancement of some of his neighbors, little James Edward was often permitted broader liberties to expand his borders simply because all of the adults encouraged his growth.  His timing was right.  Colored adults nourished his self confidence as though vicariously rekindling their own aspirations.  White adults saw a fast moving innocent youngster with a cautions and keen intellect, so letting him roam was a gift to a child which did not threaten their prerogatives.   So adults of both races sought ways to assuage the harshness of segregation for little James Edward by smothering him with affection and special attention. The effects of this  esteem is reflected in his pleasant memories of the post depression years and other events of that time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 10, 2008
• ISBN: 9781452068930

Barbara A. McArtor

JAMES EDWARD ALEXANDER, ESQ.   In 1951, on his 17th birthday, he entered the U. S Air Force.  He was initially trained as a medical technician, but when the Air Force observed his communications skills he was further trained in journalism and broadcasting.  Following his assignment as Station Manager of an Armed Forces Ratio/Television station in Greenland, in 1965, he was assigned as a senior instructor in broadcasting at the prestigious Defense Information School.  In 1969, after 14 years of persistently  attending military and civilian schools wherever he was stationed, he qualified for a one year leave of absence from military service to complete his college education.  Alexander chose Indiana University, where, in 1970, he received his Bachelor of Science Degree in Broadcast Management, he says, “With the support of my former spouse and our four children.”   Following his retirement from military service in 1971, he held management and sales positions with Time Life Broadcasting Company, McGraw-Hill Broadcasting Company, Combined Communications, Press Secretary for the re-election campaign of a U.S. Senator, and videotape operator for the ABC Network.   He says, “At the age of 52, I felt the urge to complete a list of personal objectives.  My path led me to the Whittier Law School, where, with the help of my present wife, I prepared to pass the California Bar Examination, on the initial attempt, at age 56.”    From 1991 to 2003, he was a partner in the law firm of Adams and Alexander, with law offices in Pasadena, and Beverly Hills. He is a member of the Bar of the Supreme Court of The United States, United States Circuit Court of Appeals (Ninth Circuit), United States District Court (Central District of California), and the State Bar of California.   James Edward  Alexander, and his wife Toian, live in Bluffton, SC.    

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© 2008 James Edward Alexander. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/11/2021

ISBN: 978-1-4343-4514-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4343-4515-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-6893-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2007908884

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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.

Dedicated to my grandchildren

Carin Nicole – dob: 2/16/86

Kiana Lanina – dob: 5/31/94

Kenneth Joe – dob: 5/31/94

Colette Marie – dob: 3/27/04

Olivia Claire – dob: 3/27/04

and those who follow your way

Dear Grandchildren:

During 20 years of active military service I made notes to chronicle some events of my life to share with you, who might someday wonder what my childhood was like in Valdosta, Georgia. Even though the events happened during one average lifetime — mine— these stories will stir your imagination, conjuring pictures and impressions of a social order and technology that is so alien to your experience. You will not immediately understand some of the manner or messages that I share with you. Time and experience are the prerequisites of wisdom, and as you gain both, I also share with you another prophecy from my grandfather: "One of these days you will understand, and on that day you will become a teacher for the next generation." My generation began in the 1930s. Here are some glimpses of how we lived during my first decade.

Here also are some reminders to guide you through your lifetime.

CONTENTS

Your Blessings

Prologue

Some People

Getting Here — When?

The Line Before You

Five — Going on Six

Don’t Touch That Sugar!

It Was A Good Plan

A Little Help From Monday Through Sunday

Mister Holly

Mister Eli

Mister Dye

Howdy, Mister Harp

Where Will I Sleep Tonight?

Halfway Home

On Thursday You Pick Blackberries

It’s About a Horse

Shake Hands With a Left Hook

I Can’t Remember Their Names

Motherwit

The Master Will Lead Them

Hey Mister Soldier Man

He Knew Everything

Daddy

Saturday’s Disaster

Making Do

Annie

Hide Your Shame

Just Give Me Ten Minutes

Well, Well, Well

Get Your Reward — Way Over Yonder

Does a James Edward Live Here?

She Wiped Away My Tears, Attenuated My Fears, And Eased My Troubled Mind

YOUR BLESSINGS

You are an American

In your first breath you filled your nostrils with the air of freedom — you were born an American citizen.

Your aspirations will be the product of your imagination. Your achievements will be the product of your energy and zeal. You will control both. Therefore, either fault or praise for the quality of your life hovers at your doorstep.

Strive to promote serenity in your life. Treat everyone you meet as your equal, no more or less worthy of your respect. Those acquaintances who share your values will meld into your community of friends. Those who don’t will eventually do both of you a favor and take their leave.

Take note of history, but never let the past fix the boundary of your dreams.

James Edward Alexander,

Grandfather

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James Edward Alexander

First Grade, Age 5

PROLOGUE

This is America. This is my home. It is unimaginable that I could have had such an exciting and loving childhood anywhere but in this land, where we truly believe that God shed his grace on thee. No other nation in history has equaled the breadth of America’s offering to all of its citizens of opportunities for the pursuit of happiness.

My childhood as a colored boy in South Georgia was influenced by a socioeconomic and political system that favored one class of citizens over their neighbors and often subjected the disfavored to ridicule, derision, danger, and, most scathing to human dignity, insignificance. This is not a new human pattern. Wherever people gather, they eventually structure hierarchies and sort themselves into classes, based on preferences for, or the absence of, some human traits, human characteristics, religious philosophies, or plurality. Yet despite this human tendency, there also is in most of us an inherent probity that yearns to emerge and flourish like a flower.

In our racially integrated neighborhood in Valdosta, colored and white families structured arrangements for harmony and interdependence. We often shared food and slept on the same pallet. Children were punished by parents of both races, and we children also sought out the same adults for comfort. Both races shared home remedies, and we sat at the bedsides of the sick and prayed together. In the end we gathered at the gravesides.

This too was my America. These are our stories.

SOME PEOPLE

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Eliza Catherine or Katherine

MOTHER: She wrote and spelled her name Catherine or Katherine. I addressed her as both. She used her skills to provide food, clothes, and shelter by washing too many clothes that neither she nor I owned, scrubbing too many floors on which she was only allowed to walk as a domestic helper, and cooking too many meals in homes where she was only permitted to eat a portion while sitting in that kitchen space reserved for servants. Catherine did not complain, for her options were less attractive than her obligations to her family. Very early in my life Katherine and I formed a partnership that was characterized by warmth and mutual respect. It was from her that I drew strength and determination to challenge the odds. She also taught by example and helped me develop what I consider to be my strongest attribute — persistence.

George Uskin Alexander

PAPA: George U. Alexander was my mother’s father, my grandfather. His wife was Mariah. He was a self-educated minister in the African Methodist Episcopal Church (A.M.E.). Scholars came to visit his vast library of elementary, intermediate, and advanced publications that oriented the reader to what Papa thought was important — an enlightened appreciation of history, the things of this world, and an even greater appreciation of the source of all knowledge — the Almighty. Some called him smart; a few called him brilliant. White parents who asked him to tutor their children called him Professor, or Reverend Alexander. In his presence his children and grandchildren called him Papa. Out of his presence we jokingly called him G. U. During their 56-year union his wife had only one name for him — Mister Alexander. George Uskin Alexander considered himself a Christian. He would not compromise his faith, which taught him to respect the faith that others choose. He shunned pettiness but applauded even the slightest gesture that was done with dignity. His strong domineering manner often conflicted with my strongly developing character. Our encounters were sometimes intense. It was not until his final days that I felt our combative relationship was actually contrived by the old man to help me develop a more inquiring mind for self- determination.

Mariah Ann Gaines-Alexander

MAMA: Do not be confused. We called Mrs. Mariah Gaines Alexander Mama. She was Katherine’s mother — my grandmother. Mama was a stout-hearted Christian woman of impeccable morals and unquestioned love for her family. When Papa called her name, Mariah resonated from his lips like the echo of a whisper from a crystal bell. She also was endowed with the most acute sense for finding every fishing hole in South Georgia. Together we traveled many a mile to visit relatives, friends, and even strangers who were willing to spend a few hours or days quilting, shelling peas, or just engaging in good fellowship. She taught me more than I can give her attribution, but the lesson I most treasure is how to say thank you — without words.

Osbie (Buddy) Head

DADDY: He was Katherine’s husband, my stepfather. His friends called him Buddy. I called him Daddy. When I was five years of age he disclosed to me that he was illiterate and opened himself to my instructions. It was the most self-confident act from the finest daddy and most loving man I’ve ever known.

Odessa

SISTER: Three years my senior. God created a package deal — a stern teacher and a marvelous person.

Curtis

BROTHER: Five years my senior. Because of his seniority he was commanded to set an example for me. He was blamed for so many of my miscues.

Ben

FIRST COUSIN. When Ben’s mother died he lived with our grandparents, G. U. and Mariah. At times we all lived together, more as brothers than cousins.

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Miss. Bowens at Registration Counter

GETTING HERE — WHEN?

Today, most births in America occur in surgically clean hospital delivery rooms. Teams of doctors and nurses assist the process to ensure the well-being of mother and child. Immediately after birth, the time and date is recorded on a sheet next to the newborn’s footprint and the mother’s fingerprint.

On the date of my birth in 1934, my first view was the face of Miss Nancy Bowens. She was one of the matrons in my neighborhood who knew how to monitor the health of the mother during the pregnancy cycle and then assist with the delivery. Miss Nancy was a midwife. Most often a midwife was either related by blood or was otherwise well acquainted with the expectant mother’s entire history and probably was the midwife who delivered her, and possibly her mother.