A Pearl from the House on Queen Street

By Pearline Raphelita Rance

Pearl rises from poverty to become a multimillionaire in Washington DC real estate – at the same time earning her MFA from the American University. In Acknowledgements for her first book published in 2006, Little Back Room, Pearl thanks her second husband for his support. She accepted the burden of his alcoholism – but one day she discovers he and others conspired to alter official documents to steal her company, wealth, and identity. A Pearl from the House on Queen Street serves as a metaphor for life and is evocative of the author’s journey from a dusty dry seaside town in Jamaica to America, the land where dreams are made, and everything is possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781663238542

Pearline Raphelita Rance

Pearl Rance-Reardon was born in SavannaLaMar, Jamaica. She migrated and became an American citizen in 1975. In 1982 Pearl established The third largest minority woman owned real estate and management company In the metropolitan area. In addition, to Washington DC, Maryland and Virginia, Pearl was awarded contracts for the management of foreclosures for the State of Connecticut and Youngstown, Ohio. In 1996 Pearl earned a master’s degree in fine arts from American University. With Ten Thousand Dollars and a will to succeed, Pearl rose from poverty and became a multimillionaire through her hard work, honesty, integrity, and dedication to serving. She made an indelible print on her community. As a strong black woman, she was the subject of envy, massive fraud, identity theft and embezzlement. Not even a divorce Judge could believe that, a black woman had achieved such heights, and credited her white husband, an unemployed alcoholic who had nothing and stole everything. To those who knew Pearl and Pearl Properties, Ltd., she was the best, and well respected in her field.

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Copyright © 2022 Pearline Raphelita Rance.

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ISBN: 978-1-6632-3855-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6632-3854-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022906971

iUniverse rev. date: 09/26/2022

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgement

Author’s Acknowledgment

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Reviews of A Pearl from the House on Queen Street (4/06/22)

1. This book will be of particular interest to those with links to Jamaica where the first 18 years are set. It will also be of interest as a perceptive study of a young girl and woman overcoming the harsh obstacles only to succeed beyond her wildest dreams in America.

This book is highly readable: sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes hilariously funny, and at times blunt. What gives it authenticity is the author’s prodigious memory of places and people over the 80 years the book covers." Barbara Turnham, Environmental Scientist

2. Pearl grew up in her paternal grandmother’s home in Sav. She was little more than a year old when her father, a skilled tailor, left for the United States, where he became a farm worker, replacing the American boys who had departed to fight in World War II.

Pearl’s mother lived in a remote village high in the mountains. Each year Pearl traveled to see her maternal relatives. Though not endowed with material wealth, they were warm, hard-working and happy. Pearl’s first marriage to a fellow Jamaican ended in divorce.

Pearl found her calling in the real estate industry. By age thirty-four she established Pearl Properties, Ltd., a multi-million dollar company based in Maryland. At forty, She married a smooth-talking executive, who unbeknownst to her, was on the verge of losing his job. She soon learned that he was a chronic alcoholic. But it took decades for her to realize that he was systematically stealing millions from her and her company.

While building a successful real estate business, Pearl also managed to complete college, become a published author and playwright, and an elected delegate to the 2008 Democratic National Convention.

R. Randle Edwards, Walter Gellhorn Professor Emeritus of Law, Columbia University.

3. You will see her spunkiness as she grows up in poverty and is faced with abuse as an adolescent. Pearl finds ways to succeed in Jamaican culture and as an immigrant in the United States. She tells her story with humor and insights. A Pearl from the House on Queen Street is a good read. Carolyn Hill

Preface

A PEARL FROM THE HOUSE ON QUEEN STREET

To be truthful to this story, I went back to my roots; the symbol of my birth: my name, and what it means: Pearline Raphaelita Rance. As I grew older I shortened my first name to Pearl and never mentioned my middle name which I thought was quite unusual.

Pearline is of medieval origin, taken from the Latin name, Perla, a gem of a girl associated with beauty. It is a gemstone of organic creation, formed in a mollusk, and prized for its exceptional qualities. Raphael is the Spanish and Portuguese version of the Hebrew Raphaela, the feminine version of Raphael.

Both as a shortened form of Pearline and as a symbolism of ownership, Pearl connotes a desire for success and financial accumulation. The name inspires the person with confidence and drives them to pursue their ambitions, regardless of obstacles. I am tolerant and like to help humanity. The name Raphael also has biblical connotations meaning God has healed. From humble beginnings, Pearl rose to become a multimillionaire in the real estate sales and management company she established in the Washington Metropolitan Area.

Whatever label is attached to this book – autobiography, memoir, or the airing of family laundry and grievances, I have tried to write a truthful account of my life experiences. I spent many sleepless nights thinking of how best to avoid seeming vindictive or hateful. Instead, I try to show how success can be achieved through planning, hard work, perseverance, and a desire to leave this world a better place for generations to come. If something good comes out of my rags to riches story, that will be my reward.

Born in Savannah-La-Mar, a Jamaican seaside town, little Pearline imagines herself in a government job with a swivel chair and ice water served by an office maid.

As a teen, she traveled to Puerto Rico, New York, and Washington DC. As a young bride, she suffered from the most unbalanced mother-in-law ever. By the time she was divorced, she had two children and a well-paying job.

In 1986, sponsored by the International Real Estate Federation - FIABCI, Pearl participated in the Caribbean Basin Initiative Planning Conference held in Bridgetown, Barbados, and the Ireland International Real Estate Symposium in Boston, Massachusetts.

In 1992, Pearl was one of three real estate brokers, and the only female owner of a company asked to serve on the Department of Housing and Urban Development Advisory Committee.

In February 1994, Pearl served as a panelist for the Adult and Non-degree Orientation at American University along with the late Peter Jennings. Pearl was asked to speak on Adjustment Strategies: Balancing Home and School. Her booklet – Strategies for Success –was included in the folder for each prospective student.

With the deinstitutionalization of the Forest Haven, a home for the mentally retarded, Pearl became one of the leading Realtors in the acquisition and conversion of housing for this special requirement population group. Pearl has extensive cross-cultural experience in housing and international development. She was a participant at the 1986 Caribbean Real Estate Congress that was involved in designing a program to develop low-cost housing in Westmoreland, Jamaica. She was a founding member of REINET, the first computer-based international real estate network.

In the summer of 1996, Pearl took part in the Caribbean Writers Conference hosted by the University of Miami in Florida. Among the panelists was the dean of Caribbean literature, George Lamming, author of In the Castle of My Skin, the late Trinidadian novelist, Earl Lovelace, Jamaican Poet, Lorna Goodison, and other distinguished writers from the Caribbean. Pearl also participated in the 9th Annual Ploughshares International Writing seminar at Emerson College European Center, Kasteel Weil, The Netherlands (1998)

Pearl was a Senior Consultant for Illtop Magazine, sponsored by Chris Rock in 2000, and also taught a class in the History of African American Humor in the Department of Radio, Television, and Film at Howard University. She was also selected to serve as an Advisory Panelist for the grants selection of the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities, and as a nominator for the Helen Hayes Awards.

In 2001, Pearl served as Moderator for the State of Maryland Multicultural Statewide Summit, Black FilmMakers: Building a Film Community. In August 2021, Pearl was among the limited number of guests invited to preview the screening in Harlem, New York, of a documentary entitled: African Redemption: The Life and Legacy of Marcus Garvey. The movie premiered in London in February 2022.

In 1968, Pearl was the first secretary of the Jamaican Nationals Association, founded by Howard University students without jobs or money. Pearl invested in the first trans international flight to send Jamaicans home for Christmas. She and the late Pauline Knight borrowed money from their respective credit unions to enable the take-off with several non-paying passengers and some who had paid only a deposit. The two working spouses were then responsible for the repayment of the debt. Pearl received the sum of $100.00. It was a nice gesture, but nowhere close to covering the substantial loss incurred.

As a volunteer and contributor, Pearl worked in DNC Headquarters in 2004. She also traveled to Youngstown, Ohio as a volunteer in the final days of John Kerry’s campaign. In addition, Pearl worked in the DC mayoral campaigns of Anthony Williams in 1998 and Adrian Fenty in 2006. She also worked as a volunteer with Mayor Marion Barry’s DC Summer Youth Employment Program at the American University. Pearl campaigned for Barack Obama in 2008. In addition, she was the first black woman elected from the Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia as a delegate to the National Democratic Convention in 2008.

The Essential Theater, formerly the Black Women’s Playwright Group, staged two of Pearl’s plays in Washington DC: The Chauffeur’s Son, at Source Theater, and Window of Hope at the University of the District Auditorium. With the assistance and direction of the AU Performing Arts Department, a third play – Taffeta, was Staged at American University Experimental Theater – Pearl wrote the music for this play.

Pearl served on the Board of ACLU of West Virginia. She was also on the Board of West Virginia Television and worked as a volunteer at Sibley’s Hospital in Washington D.C. (2014)

Pearl is listed in the National Reference Institute Who’s Who of American Women Executives 1989-1990 Edition, and in Who’s Who in the World (1996 Marquis Who’s Who Publication thirteenth Edition).

Pearl established the third-largest minority woman-owned real estate sales and management company in the metropolitan area. With Federal contracts for the State of Connecticut, Youngstown, Ohio, District of Columbia, Maryland, and Virginia, Pearl became the leading expert in the field of real estate and real estate asset management for the government and bank REOs. She holds several advanced designations in Real Estate.

Pearl is an author of a collection of short stories, poetry, and plays.

My appreciation and thanks to

R. Randle Edwards, Esq

Acknowledgement

Dedicated to the memory of

Condell George Gordon, my mentor

and friend without whose love and support

I could not have accomplished all that I have

Trevor Oliver Rance, April 17, 1943-April 11, 2020

My brother, Boston Massachusetts

Bernal Samuel Mullings July 25, 1939-June 12, 2020

My cousin and friend who walked miles

to meet and guide me to my mother’s house in Leamington.

Dr. Betty Jane Cleckley, August 1931-Jan 2, 2021

Former Marshall University Vice President

Office for Multicultural Affairs & International Programs

and my friend.

Huntington, West Virginia

Dr. Pauline Knight Sept. 10, 1944 – Aug 20, 2021

Former Director, Planning Institute of Jamaica

Wife of Attorney KD Knight

A friend.

Martha Gail Damkoehler May 17, 1940 - Sept 18, 2021

Wife, mother, and grandmother - a beautiful woman and a friend.

Reva Nicodemus Mickey April 1939 - Nov 4, 2021

Served in the Democratic Party for over fifty years

Chair Democratic Party in Jefferson County

Elected to the State of West Virginia Democratic

Executive Committee

Awarded West Virginia Democrat of the Year 2010

A friend and fellow democrat.

Reverend Dr. Sterling King, Jr. Oct. 1940 - Feb 23, 2022

Spiritual leader at Macedonia Baptist Church (1988-2016)

Dr. King received his Master’s and Doctorate from UCLA.

He was recruited to the faculty of Howard University. He was a tenured Associate Professor in the School of Business and Chairperson of the Department of Management. Dr. King retired from Howard University in 2010 after 34 years of service. He was a Community Activist, and President of the Black Ministers’ Conference of Montgomery County (1999-2001), and my former Pastor at Macedonia.

SavLaMarians:

Jeanette Evelyn McGregor-Turner 29 March 1940 - Sept 11, 2021

Roy Alphonso Samuels (Jacko) Oct. 1934 - Feb 2, 2022

Author’s Acknowledgment

I am deeply indebted to Professor Eleanor Binnings

for her editorial and inspirational help and guidance

Thanks to my niece Brooke being a great teacher of Google Drive.

Friends Carolyn and Barbara

for painstakingly reading my manuscript

and for giving me valuable feedback

A Pearl from the House on Queen Street

Pearline Raphaelita Rance

In my life so far, I have never stopped to think about what it means to leave one’s land of birth and become a citizen of another country. Growing up on this small island in the Caribbean has taught me many lessons in the assimilation of a culture other than my own. I never took an oath to be a Jamaican, I just was one. I took an oath when I became a naturalized citizen of the United States of America, as did my father and other relatives before him. I never thought of myself as being an immigrant but, in fact, I am.

My father, Hugh Lawrence Rance, was the son of Cyril H. Rance, whose parents were Jewish Immigrants. My mother, Ada Louise Grant (Mullings), was the granddaughter of an Englishman who had legal rights to be in the country but was still considered a foreigner. The island colony had not yet obtained independence, and we still sang the rallying allegiance to our Colonizers — ‘Rule Britannia, Britannia Rules the waves and Britons never, never shall be slaves.’ The Island’s first newspaper, Jamaica Gleaner, was established in 1834 by two Jewish Immigrants Jacob and Joshua De Cordova.

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My father was among the West Indians recruited to work on farms in the United States of America because of the shortage of workers created by World War II. I was an infant when my father left me with his mother and family in SavannaLaMar. My mother, still in her teens, was sent to live with her paternal aunt and uncle who lived in a village several miles from Sav. I was four years old when the war ended in 1945. As a farmworker, my father was sent to the State of Connecticut. His income became the main source of my care and our family’s survival. After his contract ended, he married an American woman and obtained legal permission to stay in America. In 1952 he became a Naturalized American citizen. Before his recruitment to the Farm Workers Program, he was a tailor.

According to his Business Certificate, in 1954 my father opened Hugo Cleaners in the Bronx. I, too, after years of struggles, founded my own company – a dream that could only be realized in America.

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My father and I had parallel but different growth experiences. He left his home country to improve his circumstances. He worked as a farm laborer in America to help support his family back home. If not for the money he sent home, we would have had little to eat. I would not have had shoes, clothes, and money to attend a private high school. The family knew how to stretch the few dollars my father sent that allowed us to live barely above the poverty line.

When I came to America, I left a government job at home that had allowed me to travel and to do an advanced secretarial course. I was eighteen years old. It was not easy, but I was able to survive by doing my best with what little I had. As a student, on many days all I could afford was a can of beans, and sometimes hotdogs and rice. Besides the small stipend from my job and my savings, I was fortunate to have had a benefactor who helped with my school fees. I worked part-time for fifteen dollars each week to stay afloat, but I made it and graduated with an advanced secretarial diploma.

My father was ambitious. He went to make a better life in America. My mother was also ambitious. She migrated to England to improve her circumstances. It is no surprise that I, the daughter of these two ambitious people, would strive to be successful. Through planning, focus, determination, and hard work, in 1982 I founded my own company, Pearl Properties, Ltd. It became very successful and made me a multimillionaire.

Money no longer was an obstacle to pursuing my lifelong yearning to travel, and someday become a writer. According to my late husband, we traveled to over one hundred countries. So far I have written three plays that have been performed, published a couple of poems, and one book of short stories.

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Chapter One

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Infant School

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I started school when I was three years old. I remember my older cousin, Nunnie, walking me to Infant School. I was three and lived with my paternal family in Savannah-La-Mar. My grandmother was ‘Mama" and my mother, Sister Ada. She lived in Leamington, a small country village with her paternal Aunt and Uncle. I had heard about my father but did not remember what he looked like. He went to America when I was a baby. I was around seven or eight years old when he came home for a visit. I knew that all the things I received from America came from him, and looked forward to the packages, and the blue and white envelopes that contained money for us. I was excited when I heard the news that he was coming home.

Nunnie was one of the cousins who lived in the house on Queen Street. She was twelve years old, the youngest in her family of four children. She had two brothers and an older sister. Nunnie became my surrogate mother. She groomed me and made sure that I brushed my teeth and took a bath. She curled and put ribbons in my hair, and walked me to school and church.

The government schools were on adjoining property separated by a chain-link fence with a gate. Infant School was referred to as Little School and went to grade five. The elementary school referred to as Big School started at grade six. The walk from home was about one mile. Nunnie dropped me off at ‘Little School’ and went to her class in ‘Big School.’ It was my first day and I had never walked that distance north before. Everything was new to me.

At the top of George Street is an old concrete fountain, a relic from the 17th Century. It served as a landmark of the beginning or end depending on which direction you were going. On tippy-toes, I put my hand into this dry basin, curious to see if there was any water in it. My cousin was anxious to get to her school.

Pearline, I am going to be late. Take your hand out; there is no water in there. Walk up.

I kept looking around at everything, not paying much attention to the girl who was in a hurry to get to her class. She had become irritable and held my hand tight forgetting her strides were longer. With my little legs, I had to run to keep up with her.

The schoolyard was dry and dusty. There was a water pipe surrounded by concrete and a drain in the middle. A couple of kids cupping their hands were drinking from it; I wanted a turn. Nunnie pushed me into the line of children waiting for the bell to ring before marching into the schoolroom. Still holding onto her, I pointed to the teacher and asked her if I could have glasses like that. They had large frames and were sold in the market, a fashion trend at the time.Take this, Nunnie said, shoving my lunch terrine into my hands. You still pee-pee yu panty, but know how to be facety. (to be rude)

A Place Called Sav

I grew up in a place now referred to as Sav. It was not quite a city but was important because of its geographic location as a major seaport. During the Spanish occupation, it was called Sabana de la Mar, the plain by the sea. The name changed to Savannah-La-Mar, and later many referred to it as just Sav. The Main Road in and out of Sav was Great Georges Street. Most of the businesses were located on this strip. The street ran north from the 17th Century iron fountain and south to the retaining wall of the Caribbean sea. At this time, Great Georges Street was said to be the longest and widest stretch of paved road on the island.

By this time, the reader knows that Sav is in Jamaica, a well-known haven for tourists. The Island is divided into three counties: Cornwall, Middlesex, and Surrey. Savannah-La-Mar is the capital of Westmoreland, in the county of Cornwall. Although in the same parish of Westmoreland, Sav is flat and is located at the most western tip of the island bordered by the Caribbean Sea. Leamington village is a rural mountainous agricultural region where my mother lived.

With a few scattered wild mango, tamarind, and ackee trees, Sav was dry, hot, and dusty. However, being near the water, we had beaches and the sea. The breezes cooled the afternoons. The sandy soil was not conducive to agriculture, but being on the edge of the sea, we had plenty of fish and access to the two wharves for shipment of produce: Myers Sugar Wharf for sugar cane, and Pringle Wharf for logwood. In Sav, about the only plants that thrived besides areola bush was my flower garden in the front yard. I planted zinnias, bachelor’s button, and marigold, surrounded by the beautiful conch shells I picked up at the nearby beach. Most of the wholesale shops, stores, businesses, and the town market were in Sav.

I grew up with my paternal family in Sav and this town helped mold me into the woman I have become. As the youngest in a household of adults, I was fortunate to have older cousins who helped my grandmother (Mama) to take care of me. My mother and father were absent; however, there was no doubt growing up that these two people loved me. When I got older, I understood the choices these young parents had to make. I grew up learning to be respectful, and honest, and the importance of good character.

I had many friends on my street, which in itself, was like a neighborhood. Everyone knew each other and looked out for one another. Queen Street was special. There were certain homes that kids were allowed to visit and mine and my adjoining neighbors’ were among them. I had no time to miss my parents –my friends and neighbors made up for this. My father sent money and gifts as he could afford, and my mother sent food from the country. In my home, I was influenced by the two women who ran this household: my grandmother, whom I called Mama, and her sister, Dada. My refinements were influenced by Mama and my intellect was nurtured by Dada. This woman taught me by example to be strong, courageous, and disciplined.

Sitting on the Doorstep

We had no electricity but a lamp that used gasoline. The nights were dark and sprinkled with stars in an almost ethereal way filtering the soft glow of night through the trembling leaves of the almond tree in our backyard. There was an eerie and unearthly feeling of bliss as we sat and listened attentively to Dada. The lamp flickered as the night breezes waft gently through the leaves. I held the lamp firmly, being careful not to let the shade fall and break. I think about those nights and how we were always afraid of the ghosts and spirits that were said to come alive then. It was not a frightening fear but one that begs for your attention and draws you closer to the storyteller.

I felt reassured that we were protected by this strong woman who seemed to know everything and was afraid of nothing. My friends and I huddled close to Dada and listened to every word even though we didn’t understand the meaning of poems that she recited by heart. She captured our attention and imagination with the stories she told. The myths she recounted sounded like real-life events. All her tales carried a message either in poetry form or fairy tale.

The Rolling Calf

Dada told tales of the Rolling Calf with piercing eyes of fire, and mighty sounds of rattling chains. These stories were in the context of her own or imagined experience with this creature. The moon was her only guide as she hurried up the main street to get the midwife who would deliver her first grandchild. She heard the chains, and in the distance, she saw the fiery eyes. She hid under a house on Great Georges Street to escape the fury of this evil monster that roamed at night. It galloped past and to the sea and is calmed or satisfied by quenching its thirst.

There were times when the Rolling Calf did good deeds rather than evil. The parents of a boy had trouble getting him to do his school lessons and warned him unless he did better, he’d have a visit by the Rolling calf. Just the thought of the fiery eyes and clanking chains coming to his house made a difference in this boy’s behavior. That is what she told us.

Among Dada’s favorites was a poem by Dorothea Hemans called ‘Casabianca: The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck.’ It was a true story, she said, of an incident on a ship during the 1798 Battle of the Nile that illustrated the discipline, courage, and obedience of a boy to his father; even at his peril. At that time I thought a woman of fifty-four was old, I now reflect on myself, an eighty-year-old octogenarian still active and alive. I wrote this poem in memory of Dada.

Sitting on the doorstep,

Aunt Alvira sits aloft,

Telling tales of personal courage,

Fairy tales, Rolling calves,

Midwives, and Literary giants,

she on top at fifty-four

And me at four.

Medicines Come from Plants

Don’t you know? Dada believed in the curative properties of locally grown plants. At a time when many people couldn’t see a doctor unless it was for a major illness, she practiced homeopathic medicine and there was no charge. Someone tells Dada that she has a fungus in her nail and it cannot get better no matter what she does so she brings the problem to our home.

Miss Alvira, me have dis bad finga, ahn eh wont get betta. It’a get worse.

People who knew Dada came with many complaints. Whether it was high blood pressure, diabetes, fungus, centipede, or scorpion stings, she had a remedy. Dada knew the value of many tropical plants, and how to prepare a remedy for various complaints. Boiled breadfruit leaves placed on the forehead lowered blood pressure. I never knew of any adult in our little town who didn’t suffer from hypertension. She mixed cornmeal and iodoform to make a poultice to treat certain conditions, such as fingernail or toenail fungus or heal a wound that had become infected. When herbs were not appropriate to treat conditions such as stings, she made an antidote. For instance, she dropped scorpions in a bottle with ‘proof’ rum and used this to treat infection and pain that happens after a sting. She poured rum over the ganja leaves and used a couple of drops in a cup of tea to bring down a fever. She had a remedy for every ailment using mostly plants gathered in the countryside and her intuition as to what works best. While Mama prepared