Sound of Hope: War, Struggle, Peace

By Dodi Spurgeon

Born and raised in Greenville, South Carolina, during the Jim Crow era, my parents were uneducated, hard workers with good common sense. Neither advanced beyond elementary school, but they had hope for a better life for us. They knew how to work and survive during hard times. My mother quit school after the third grade because her mother died when she was eight years old. She had to take care of her younger siblings. She talked about the difficulties she experienced, especially being a child herself. Alcohol was first in life for my father. It was ahead of family needs. Alcohol seemed to remove him from his state of oppression. He went to church only on special occasions because he believed more emphasis was placed on taking care of the pastor than worshiping God. Our parents drilled into us how we were to behave when out from under their care. They knew they had to prepare us for what we may be faced with daily in that era. My father emphasized avoiding trouble and keeping away from troublemakers. He spoke this more to my brothers than me and my sisters. He didn't talk much, but; we knew he felt responsible for anything that happened in our family. Helping each other was a way of life. No one looked to the government for help when things got tough. Material things weren't an issue because we didn't hold any. Our values were within the family. We gain strength and support from each other. I am not ashamed of the way I was raised. I don't hold any hate toward anyone for the things we didn't have or places we weren't allowed to go. I take it all as a learning experience because it helped shape my life and make me the person I am today. It also gave me strength and confidence in facing the important issues of today. We were faced with many challenges growing up. It strengthened us and made us proud to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. Often, I dreamed and wondered what the rest of the world was like and how different it was from the small city where we lived. We hadn't traveled far from home. Royston, Georgia, My Mother's hometown, is about seventy miles from where we lived. My imagination would run wild seeing people, places, and things. I was consumed by my hopes and dreams. Years after my hopes and dreams had subsided, the unthinkable happened. An opportunity for travel. "How cool is that?" We lived in China, Nigeria, Canada, France, England, Northern Ireland, and visited many other parts of the world. I have talked about the many difficulties we have experienced, but we evolved and benefitted to get where we are today. We didn't mind working to have something. We didn't expect something for nothing. My father would say, "Beware of someone willing to give you something for anything, nothing is free. It will cost you something." Individual struggles have been a part of our lives since the beginning of time. They should not cause us to take life or destroy anyone's property. Evil and hate cause destruction. We've come a long way and still have a way to go. Our past helps plan better for the future. It would help us all to try and show more love and respect for each other and do what we can to make our world a better place to live. You will get a glimpse of our living experiences in China and Nigeria.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781684563555

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Sound of Hope

War, Struggle, Peace

Dodi Spurgeon

Copyright © 2019 Dodi Spurgeon

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2019

ISBN 978-1-68456-354-8 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-68456-355-5 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Life

Life

Terrific! Over at Last

Yesterday

Yesterday

Yesterday

Is There Any Hope?

Is There Any Hope?

Is There Any Hope?

Is There Any Hope?

Is There Any Hope?

Is There Any Hope?

From the Cradle to the Grave

A Struggling Man

A Struggling Man

An Awesome God Is He

An Awesome God Is He

An Awesome God Is He

An Awesome God Is He

An Awesome God Is He

Put It in God’s Hand

To my husband for encouraging me and supporting me in writing this book and to Page Publishing for editing and publishing it.

Life

Upon conception begins life

Nurtured, protected until birth continues life

Born into a world unknown a journey of life

For one moment or years the way of life

Between war and peace struggles life

Destruction, sickness, or disease flees life

A place unknown to man eternal life

Thursday, July 10, 1997

South Carolina

Our family and friends,

We want to share some of the behaviors, living conditions, and struggles people go through from day to day in other parts of the world.

Our intent is not to offend anyone, but it is to give you a tour of what we saw while living there.

We appreciate your love and support. Knowing we were in your thoughts and prayers made times easier and more enjoyable. We hope from this book you will see some of life’s experiences people endure while living from day to day in other parts of the world. While what we have may seem small, it is a lot more than what some others have. We should all be thankful for having the opportunity to be born and to live in the United States of America.

Our ancestors had no choice in leaving their homeland. They were taken and sold as slaves. There were many tragedies and dark days in their lives. They had to endure pain from being whipped, made to walk miles, denied food and water, and chained like animals in conditions unsuitable for any living being in the hold of ships transported to other countries for a price. Out of all their pain and suffering, we were blessed to be born in a civilized country. A country where boundaries are broad enough that one can live a decent life if they choose.

We have obtained a lifestyle that third world countries see as luxurious and can only dream of. Most would be thankful to have food, clean air, access to good water, and sanitation. That would seem small to many of us because it has been there, and we don’t know the pain in not having it.

Alton and Dodi

Terrific! Over at Last

I gathered my personal belongings preparing to leave what had been a long, successful career in the corporate world. I reflected back over my life, starting with my first job working after school. It was September 1952. I worked as a maid in an apartment rental complex. My schedule was to work two hours a day, but many days my work required me to work well into the night. When tenants vacated the apartments, Mrs. Blakely, the landlady, thought it had to be cleaned immediately. She didn’t want the apartment to stand for cleaning because she was afraid she would lose money if it wasn’t available for rent. What that meant for me was having to work longer hours and walking home after dark. Being out alone at night wasn’t safe for young girls because predators roamed the streets after dark. On nights when I had to work late and walk home alone, I would focus my attention on traffic. There wasn’t much traffic during those days because few people owned cars. If your parents were teachers or preachers, they may have owned an old car. I knew when I was being followed because the car would go down one side of the road and come back up the other. The road I had traveled home was lined with huge oak trees all the way down both sides of the road. I would hide behind one tree then another until the car passed me. Then I’d run as fast as I could run before it turned around and come back down the road. I would do this until it lost sight of the me.

My fear of darkness and walking home alone caused me to dread nightfall. Some nights my brother would meet and accompany me home. I wanted to quit that job, but Mother said I had to work to have money for school.

My strongest desire at that time was to become a manager in the industry field. I was always taking charge and getting others to see things my way. I thought I would be good at managing others. Cotton was the biggest industry in the south, but needless to say, managing others in that era was unrealistic. The chance of minorities, especially females, getting into management in the old days of the south was wishful thinking. There were few blacks working in cotton mills. The jobs they held were floor sweeping and cleaning the water houses (toilets). Nevertheless, I dreamed on.

The Civil Rights Movement began in the late ’50s. It moved across the south like wild fire led by Dr. Martin Luther King. There were riots and sit-ins everywhere. Colored folks, as we were called during those days, couldn’t drink from the white water fountain or use the white restroom. In places where there were facilities for the public, there would be a small water fountain with a sign posted over it saying Colored Only and a large water fountain with a sign posted above it saying White Only. On occasions my friends and I would go downtown to Woolworth’s five-and-dime store. In the back of the store the water fountains and restrooms were located. We would stand watch on the corners inside the store and take turns drinking from the white only water fountain and using the white only restroom. We wanted to see if the water tasted any different or the restrooms were any different. The water was very cold in the white only fountain and the restroom were much bigger than the black only. Every time we went downtown after that, we looked for an opportunity to drink from the white only fountain in hopes of not