E'kalb Hollow

By Sheila D. Hairston

At the height of Jim Crow laws, E'kalb Hollow is a small African American town located deep in the woods of Southern Virginia and home to the resilient Braxton family.

Unending hurts, pain, and devastation shattered the lives of this family time and time again. Despite the fact that bigotry and racism rocked their world, neither had the power to destroy their self-respect.

As with any devastating circumstances, time is the antidote for healing. In the long run, the Braxtons learned to mend their broken spirits by weeding out offenses and treasuring happy times and precious memories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887310749

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Braxton Clan

Chapter 2: The Good, The Bad, And The Ornery

Chapter 3: Bless The Child

Chapter 4: Chores And More

Chapter 5: Way Back Yonder

Chapter 6: Far Apart But Close At Heart

Chapter 7: Home Sweet Home

Chapter 8: Troubled Waters

Chapter 9: Then Sings My Soul

Chapter 10: Farewell

Chapter 11: The Calm Before The Storm

Chapter 12: Behind These Walls

Chapter 13: Where Are They Now?

A Word From The Author

About the Author

cover.jpg

E'kalb Hollow

Sheila D. Hairston

Copyright © 2023 Sheila D. Hairston

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

Photographs by Darlenys Rosa Benitez

ISBN 979-8-88731-073-2 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88731-074-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Acknowledgments

With utmost reverence, I give honor to my Lord, whose love never ceases to amaze me. Thank You for granting me the passion to write. Let me humbly accept my achievements, and may I be guided by the words of 1 Corinthians 10:31, Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.

To my dear and loving dad, the late Reverend Luther Hairston, who has preceded me in glory: I'll forever be grateful for the example you set before me. Your walk with the Lord has had a phenomenal impact on my life. You taught me to do my best, but you never required perfection. Because of your earnest prayers and petitions to God for me, I have stayed the course. You are and always will be the wind beneath my wings.

To my amazing mom, Tessie Hairston: Thanks for cheering me on. You've been my rock through this entire process. You believed in me and constantly reminded me of the scripture, I can do all things through Christ. Words can never capture the depth of love I feel for you. Your constant prayers have made me the woman I am today.

To my sister, Vi: You spent countless, painstaking hours reviewing my book for perfection. Your fine-tuning and exceptional proofreading skills have made the outcome a huge success. Thanks for having my back.

To my mom and my aunt Dematris Lester: Space will not allow me to give you the credit you deserve. Your storytelling was my inspiration from the very beginning. There would be no book had you not shared with me your family life experiences dating back to the mid-1900s. You brought E'kalb Hollow into existence and made it come alive.

To my cousin, Joya Hairston-Wells: Many thanks for your artistic talent as demonstrated on the book's front cover. Your freehand drawing style is superb, and your precision to detail is immaculate. Know that you are incredibly gifted.

And last but not least, to my good friend, Roben Hernandez: You taught me the know-how of creative writing. Thanks for answering my million and one questions on any given day. Your willingness to share your knowledge and never hold back is a commendable attribute. I'm beyond grateful for the friendship we've developed over the years. You will never be forgotten.

Prologue

E'kalb Hollow was home to the Braxton family. Its population was less than two hundred—few even knew of its existence. Most of the inhabitants had never known life beyond its boundaries. Nestled between two mountains, winters were brutal and the sweltering heat in the summer was unbearable.

Ramshackled houses lined the dirt roads, and outdoor toilets were common in this poor but close-knit community. Having no access to electricity, light was provided by oil or kerosene lamps. Drinking water was drawn from the springs. But amid the lack and poverty, true happiness was found in the simplest things, like neighborhood gatherings for blackberry cobbler and apple pie. Children delighted in running barefoot through the fields in the springtime and sleigh riding down snow-covered hills in the winter.

Content as they were in these backwood confines, the people of E'kalb Hollow were not without hardship. There were difficult times when outbreaks of disease sickened their livestock and lack of rain caused barren soils to destroy their crops. At other times, raging storms tore through their community, ruining what little they had. But in every situation, the people pulled together. Families who had little shared with those who had less. Misfortune came to them all, and everyone lacked in some form or another.

The Braxtons were no exception. Times were hard for this family of eight. Although they aimed for a simple, uncomplicated lifestyle, it seemed as if troubles hunted them down. Snags and setbacks left them reeling and rocking. At times, they felt stuck, as though they were living in a maze with no way out. But in each instance, they rose above the hurdles and pitfalls and hastened to craft and rebuild.

They were a family who chose to live peacefully. Despite racist statutes and unjust rules, they found ways to maintain their dignity and pride.

Pauline Braxton was the epitome of survival. Although the odds were against her and life seemed like an uphill battle, she persevered through every test and trial. Despite setbacks and daunting challenges along the way, she emerged stronger and unwavering—even in her darkest hour.

Tragedies, hardships, and sorrows are all an integral part of life—no one is exempt. How one faces the storm determines the outcome. In the midst of all adversity, Pauline remained committed to those who mattered most—her family. Her triumphs will make you cheer, her heartaches will make you cry, and her unflinching determination will astonish you.

*****

Author's note: Though this is a work of fiction, it is based on the author's own family and actual events. Fictitious names have been created. Incidents and scenes have been modified to capture the author's imagination.

Chapter 1

The Braxton Clan

It was the middle of fall—not very cold but cold enough for John Braxton to kindle a small fire. October was usually an unpredictable time of year. The possibility of an early frost was ever present. Even a light dusting of snow could blanket the mountaintops in this southern part of Virginia. As John chucked the last log into the old potbellied stove, the scent of burning wood filled the air. Closing the lid, he turned and looked at his children sitting quietly around the kitchen table. They flinched each time they heard their mother's cry coming from the back room. Her labor pains were hitting fast and hard.

The old cuckoo clock sounded, reminding John of each passing hour. He had tended to his wife, Pauline, since her pains began well before daybreak. As time passed, the pain intensified. It was shortly after sunrise when John decided it was time to notify the doctor. He hopped into his T-Model Ford and sped down the rocky road, arriving at the doctor's house approximately thirty minutes later.

Frederick M. Shaw, a white doctor from Evansville who made house calls to the surrounding Negro towns, grabbed his medical bag and headed out his front door. His Studebaker climbed the steep mountains and endless miles of dirt roads. John kept a close distance behind. Having previously delivered the five other Braxton children—Otis, Dee, Tillie, Roy Lee, and Li'l John—Dr. Shaw was no stranger to E'kalb Hollow.

He was one of the few whites in Evansville who did not uphold the Jim Crow laws. Having removed the Colored Section sign that once hung in his office prior to his arrival, Dr. Shaw believed in equality for all people, regardless of race. Unlike his predecessors who fanned the flames of hate and division, he showed no signs of bias or favoritism to any of his patients.

Upon his arrival to the house, he made his way to the backroom where Pauline moaned in agony. Prohibited from entering the room, John cringed each time he heard his wife's cry. Every so often, Dr. Shaw stepped into the kitchen to calm the children's fears and to give John an update on Pauline's progress. Won't be long now—maybe a few more hours.

Few mo' hours? asked John, eyebrows raised. She been in pain a awful long time.

Could be less. Can't pinpoint the exact time, said Dr. Shaw, pulling a match from his pocket to light his pipe. He took a few slow puffs, then walked over to where John was standing and patted him on the back. Don't worry—the baby will be here soon. John nodded, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep. As he was about to pull out a chair, he heard the door to the back room open and turned to see Ruth Ann walking toward the kitchen. Ruth Ann was Pauline's longtime friend and had stayed by her side while John drove to Evansville that morning to fetch Dr. Shaw.

When Pauline and John first arrived in E'kalb Hollow sixteen years ago, Ruth Ann welcomed them with open arms. Having similar personalities, she and Pauline bonded immediately. Over the years, Ruth Ann had become like family. Living only a short distance down the road, she was there whenever the Braxtons needed her. In like manner, there wasn't anything John and Pauline wouldn't do for Ruth Ann. Having no offspring of her own, she became a second mama to the Braxton children. So quite naturally, she was there that morning to help Dr. Shaw with the delivery.

Pauline gon' be just fine, said Ruth Ann as she walked to the stove to pour herself a cup of coffee. Them pains she havin' is normal. She poured another cup of coffee and handed it to John. Tapping the back of a chair, she motioned for him to sit. As if he were one of the children, he obeyed and took a seat. She continued, Don'tchu be worryin' now. Doc Shaw know what he doin'. The doctor kept quiet but nodded in agreement. John took a few sips of coffee, then pushed the cup aside.

Shame Pauline gotta go through all this pain. He lowered his head. Just wish there was somethin' I could do.

Ruth Ann did her best to lift his spirits. When that baby boy gits here, Pauline gon' fo'git all 'bout that pain.

Arms folded, head tilted to the side, John asked, Now what make you so sho' it's gon' be a boy?

The reason I know it is 'cause she carryin' low. If she was carryin' up front and high, it would be a girl. Her no-doubt-about-it attitude halfway convinced John that he had another son on the way.

You really think so? he asked, stroking his chin.

Hands on her hips, Ruth Ann chuckled. Oh, it's a boy, aw'right—mark my word.

Before knocking the ashes from his pipe, Dr. Shaw took one last puff, savoring the rich tobacco flavor as long as he could. The children's eyes followed the smoke as it disappeared into thin air. Pulling out a hankie from his back pocket, Dr. Shaw spit-cleaned his wire-framed glasses, then went back to the room to check on Pauline, the sweet smell of tobacco lingering behind.

The children, still sitting quietly at the table, were baffled and confused. High or low, boy or girl, they wanted life to get back to normal. Tillie, the youngest of the two girls and the most spoiled, looked as if she would start bawling any minute, longing to be next to her mother.

Come here, honey, said Ruth Ann, beckoning with her finger. Tillie fought to keep from crying, but as soon as she dove into Ruth Ann's outstretched arms, she burst into tears. Shhh—hush now. It's gon' be aw'right, said Ruth Ann, hugging her tightly as if she were her own.

But Mama is hurtin', Tillie cried.

Yeah, but 'fo' you know it, she gon' be walkin' 'round here carryin' the new li'l baby in her arms. But you gotta stop cryin' 'cause she gon' need yo' help.

Tillie let go of the grip she had around Ruth Ann's waist. Whimpering softly, she dried her tears with the back of her hand, her head jerking sporadically. Then she went back to the table and pulled her chair close to Dee.

Y'all doin' aw'right? Ruth Ann asked the other children.

They nodded in unison.

Okay then, I'ma go look in on yo' mama. It's gon' be over soon, she assured them as she walked out of the kitchen.

Cries and moans continued to echo from the back room followed by long periods of silence. John paced the floor for twenty minutes straight, then sat down at the table with the children. Five minutes later, he was back on his feet, pacing again. At twelve noon, the cuckoo bird emerged. John couldn't believe that half the day was gone and still no baby. He wished he could be in the room with Pauline—holding her in his arms and helping her through the pain. He could only imagine how she must feel without him by her side. His thoughts were interrupted by Tillie. Daddy, is Mama gon' be aw'right? Her voice quivered, and a tear ran down her face.

John gave his daughter a hug. Yo' mama gon' be just fine. She in good hands with Dr. Shaw and Miss Ruth Ann. Tillie was still young and not quite ready to let go of her mama's apron strings.

As John wiped the tear from her eye, he felt someone tugging at his shirtsleeve and turned to see Li'l John, the youngest of the Braxton brood, standing next to him. Looking up into his daddy's face, he asked, Why Mama hollerin'?

John knelt on one knee and pulled his son close. She don't feel too good right now, but Dr. Shaw gon' make her better.

While John was still kneeling, Roy Lee tapped him on the back. Daddy, why the doctor won't let us see Mama?

Well, Mama need to git some rest, son. She can't talk right now. No sooner had John spoken those words than Ruth Ann was overheard talking to Pauline.

Why Miss Ruth Ann git to talk to Mama and we can't? asked an inquisitive Roy Lee, his big poppy eyes looking twice their normal size. Two years older than Li'l John and a bit more curious, Roy Lee kept probing. Is we gittin' a new brother, Daddy? Miss Ruth Ann said we is.

I ain't sure, son—might be gittin' a li'l sister.

Aww, shucks, pouted Roy Lee. I want a brother. Daddy, what'chu like better, girls or boys?

I like 'em both. I got two purty girls and three good-lookin' boys.

Roy Lee pointed to himself. I'm good-lookin? he asked, a huge grin spreading across his face.

You sho' is, responded his daddy, swooping him up and rolling him across his back. Roy Lee held on for a piggyback ride around the kitchen table. Li'l John pranced as he awaited his turn. John stooped down, allowing Roy Lee to jump off and Li'l John to hop on. When the ride ended, Li'l John locked his arms around his daddy's neck and begged, One mo' time, pleeeease.

Can both of us git on yo' back, Daddy? asked Roy Lee.

Ooh, goody, chimed Li'l John. Can we, Daddy? In their eyes, their daddy was the strongest man in the world and, at six-foot-two, the tallest.

That's enough fo' now, boys. John leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Whew, I'm pegged out—y'all gittin' heavy. He turned to his other three older children and jokingly asked, Y'all wanna ride too? They laughed, recalling the days when they were small enough to hop on his back and ride up and down the hills of E'kalb Hollow.

John tucked his shirt inside his trousers. Guess we better fix somethin' to eat. Ain't y'all hongry?

I'll heat the leftover beans, volunteered Dee, the eldest daughter. At twelve, she was mature for her age and could cook and clean as well as any grown-up.

Tillie offered to help. I'll make some Kool-Aid.

Ain't no Kool-Aid, Dee responded.

Then I'll make some lemonade.

Ain't no lemons either.

Tillie checked the cupboard. Finding it practically empty, she scratched her head. Guess it's gon' have to be sugar water again.

I like sugar water, stated Roy Lee.

I like sugar water with Kool-Aid in it, responded Li'l John.

It was a potluck meal, but John said grace and thanked the good Lord for providing for his family. Other than Roy Lee and Li'l John arguing over who gets the next piggyback ride, there was very little talk at the table.

Another hour passed and still no baby. By now John was on his second pot of coffee, more than he consumed in an entire week. Relying on Ruth Ann's prediction, he stared out the kitchen window and imagined a bouncing baby boy. As he meditated, Tillie walked over to where he was. Nose scrunched against the windowpane, she followed his gaze into the backyard. John shifted his eyes in her direction. So much like her mother, he thought—sensitive, kind, caring. He sat his coffee cup down, then stooped to give her a hug. Smiling, he reached for her long, thick plait and tickled her face with it. Tillie tucked her chin and giggled.

Otis had said very little during the entire ordeal. A young teen at fourteen years of age and the eldest of all the children, he had never known his mother to experience such pain. John read the hurt on Otis' face and suggested he and the other children go outside for fresh air. Roy Lee and Li'l John were the first to grab their coats and head for the door. After twenty minutes of searching for doodle bugs, they gave up and went to join Otis under the weeping willow. Legs crossed Indian-style, they sat next to him on the ground.

What'cha makin'? Roy Lee asked.

Nothin', just chiseling this old piece of wood.

Li'l John yanked at Otis' arm. Lemme see.

Wait, I ain't finished yet. Otis blew the wood dust away, then held the object at arm's length, viewing it from all angles.

Can we have it? asked Roy Lee.

What y'all gon' do with it? Ain't nothin' but a block of wood.

We can float it down the creek. Can you come with us? asked Roy Lee, pulling Otis by his arm.

Naw, we can't go to the creek today. Gotta stay close to Mama.

While Otis occupied the little ones, Tillie sat on the porch steps watching the autumn leaves fall from the trees. Her eyes trailed them as they danced in the wind and landed softly on the ground. Midway her concentration, Dee walked over and broke the silence. She took a seat on the step and scooted close to her sister. Cupping her hands around Tillie's ear, she whispered, Miss Ruth Ann don't know what she talkin' 'bout. I think Mama gon' have a girl.

Me too. I want a li'l sister. She reached out to catch a falling leaf. We already got enough bad boys in the family, she said, sniggling as they shot a glance at the boys from the corner of their eyes.

Dee smiled. Otis ain't bad. But them other two is.

Otis is bad too. He be teasin' us all the time.

Dee snorted a laugh. I tease him back, and he don't bother me no mo'. You always cry—that's why he keep pickin' on you.

At this point, everyone went back inside and huddled around the table again. By now Pauline's screams had elevated to a loud, piercing cry.

In the back room, Ruth Ann wiped the sweat from Pauline's forehead as Dr. Shaw examined her. After completing the examination, he quickly reached for his medical bag and grabbed the forceps, placing them on a table next to the bed.

Ruth Ann swallowed the lump in her throat. Eyes bucked, she asked, You think it's time, Doc?

Oh, it's time, all right.

What'chu want me to do? Ruth Ann asked, wringing her hands.

I'll need a pail of warm water and some rags to wash the baby off with. Then see if you can round up some clean sheets.

Her heart raced. 'Bout how many?

At least a couple—one to put under Pauline and the other to lay the baby on.

Ruth Ann burst through the door, causing everyone at the kitchen table to jump out of their skin. John, we gon' need a pail. You got a pail? Where's a pail? she asked, arms flailing.

John leaped from his chair. The baby comin'?

It's fixin' to pop out any minute. Where's that pail? she asked, voice rising.

The pail…the pail…the pail, John repeated, eyes darting rapidly around the kitchen.

Ain'tcha got no pail? Ruth Ann shouted.

Here's one, John said, pulling a pail from under the sink. He filled it with water and sat it on the stove to warm. What else you need, Ruth Ann?"

Some sheets—'bout two or three.

I know where they is, said Dee, jumping up from the table. I'll git 'em.

Soon as that water heat up, knock on the door real loud so we can hear you, instructed Ruth Ann. Grabbing the sheets from Dee, she rushed back to the room. Hurry up with that water—Doc waitin'.

The children sat still and silent—scared stiff. For their sakes, John tried to remain calm as they watched his every move. He stood and hovered over them. Won't be long now.

Daddy, I think the water is ready, said Otis after several minutes.

Wrapping a rag around the bucket handle, John hurried to the door with the water. He knocked as hard as he could while yelling through the wide crack. Doc Shaw—here the water is.

Ruth Ann reached out for the bucket, unintentionally slamming the door in John's face as she rushed back to aid the doctor.

When I lift her up, you slide the sheet under her real fast, instructed Dr. Shaw. Then get the other sheet ready for the baby. Moving about swiftly, Ruth Ann followed the doctor's orders to the tee.

Sweat poured profusely down Pauline's face. She dug her nails into the mattress as the pain became more excruciating, her screams now louder than ever.

At the kitchen table, John and the children held hands. Tillie sat leaning against her daddy with her eyes closed. Several minutes passed, then suddenly they heard Dr. Shaw yell, Push, Pauline—push! Bear down and push hard! Then there was a brief period of silence, followed by more screams. Wait—hold on a minute, said the doctor. Okay, push some more—real hard this time.

John clenched his teeth as if he could feel the pain. Hands locked behind his back, he started to pace again. Tillie flung herself across Dee, burying her face in her sister's lap. As Dee patted Tillie gently on the back, she began to cry too. Terrified, Roy Lee and Li'l John ran to Otis and grabbed him around the waist. Suddenly, they heard Ruth Ann yell at the top of her lungs. I see the head, Dr. Shaw—it's comin'!

John held his breath. Except for Tillie's whimpering, everyone else was silent. Pauline's screams had come to a halt. The only noise was that of the ticking cuckoo clock and the crackling fire from the potbellied stove. Then they heard the sound they had all been waiting for—the cry of a newborn baby. It was music to their ears. Finally, it was over. John rushed to the door, and all five children followed.

Ruth Ann's voice was loud and clear. Oooh wee—it's a boy. I knew I was right all along, she bragged.

Can we come in? John asked, rapping on the door.

Hold your horses. We'll be out in a minute, said Dr. Shaw. Just give us a little time to clean up.

The children could hardly contain their excitement. Roy Lee began jumping up and down. We got a brother.

Is he a boy? asked Li'l John, triggering a much-needed laugh from everyone. You gon' take him piggyback, Daddy?

Before John had a chance to answer, Roy Lee cut in. He a li'l baby. He can't go piggyback till he git big. Can we see him now, Daddy?

Not yet—we gotta wait just another few minutes. John was about to knock again when Dr. Shaw finally opened the door. Quiet now, quiet, he said, motioning for them to step inside the room. Tillie's eyes went straight to her mama, who lay with the baby lying next to her side. Even in Pauline's weakened state, Tillie still thought her mother was the most beautiful person in the world. It seemed as if John was thinking the same thing as he looked deep into his wife's eyes and kissed her on the cheek. The children moved in closer to get a good look at their new brother.

He look like you, Daddy, Otis said.

He sho' do, agreed Dee, smiling.

Pauline waited to hear Tillie's opinion, but when she looked at her daughter, tears were in her eyes. What's the matter, honey? Pauline asked, her weakened voice barely above a whisper.

I was skerd, Mama, 'cause you was cryin', and I couldn't see you.

But I'm aw'right now. I ain't hurtin' no mo'. See yo' brother? She gently turned the baby's face toward Tillie. Do he look like me or yo' daddy? Her soothing voice eased Tillie's fears.

Looking at John, then at the baby, Tillie smiled. He look like Daddy.

Ruth Ann, who had been standing in the back of the room, joined in the family conversation, a broad smile spreading across her face. Now that we done established who he look like, what we gon' name him?

John carefully lifted his baby boy from the bed, cradling him in his huge hands. Whatcha think, Pauline? You got a name in mind?

She pondered for a moment, her eyes roaming as she thought. Then she smiled. Maybe we could name him Stuart—after yo' daddy.

Gazing into the baby's face, John nodded. That's a good name. Daddy would be so proud. He looked at the two younger boys. Stuart was yall's grampaw.

Is he comin' to see the baby? asked Roy Lee.

Hm-mm. Died long 'fo' y'all was born. He done gawn to a better place. A hush fell over the room as John turned his head and gazed out the window. For a split second, he was lost in thought. His father had died after the birth of Tillie, and his mother passed the following year.

Ruth Ann brought his attention back to the present. Stuart gon' be tall just like you—twenty-one inches already. I ain't seen the likes of that in a newborn.

From the back of the room, Dr. Shaw cleared his throat. Pauline needs to get her rest now. She should feel a lot better tomorrow. All but the doctor left the room, allowing him time to give Pauline one last check.

John sent the children to bed while he and Ruth Ann waited in the kitchen for Dr. Shaw. One mo' cup of coffee to celebrate, said Ruth Ann, smiling as she filled their cups.

Oooh wee, I'm so glad it's over. Don't know what we would'a done without you, Ruth Ann. We owe you a whole lot.

Naw, y'all don't owe me nothin'. I feel like I'm part of the family.

Oh, you is family, aw'right. You done stuck with us through thick and thin ever since we moved to E'kalb Hollow. That's been many a year ago.

Ruth Ann downed her last drop of coffee. I remember when Pauline was about seven months pregnant with Roy Lee. Looked like her big ole belly was gon' bust. I used to poke fun at her all the time.

They laughed, recalling the days when Pauline could barely walk from one room to the next. Then all of a sudden, John's smile faded. He propped his elbows on the table—head in his hands. Good thing you and Dr. Shaw was here when Otis was born. Things could'a been a lot worse. His smile returned. But I think he do good considerin' what happened durin' his birth.

I think he do too. Me and Doc both sensed trouble when we saw his feet comin' first. That's what they call a breech birth. Dr. Shaw was able to turn him the right way, but somethin' still went wrong. It wut'nt till Otis finally got here that we noticed one shoulder was higher than the other. Leaning back in the chair, Ruth Ann folded her arms. But I tell ya, that ain't stoppin' him from doin' nothin' he wanna do.

John nodded. That's the truth. He fine and healthy, and that's the only thing that matter.

Smiling, Ruth Ann said, Mm-hmm, I be watchin' him when he come to the house to chop firewood fo' me. He be swingin' that axe like a full-grown man.

Yep, he is a handy young fellow, responded John. You was 'round for the birth of all our chillen. He shook his head. We can't ever thank you enough.

I feel the same way 'bout y'all. Remember last year when that big ole storm tore through the Hollow?

John nodded. That was 'bout the worse I seen.

Skerd the livin' daylights out of me. Destroyed all my crops—even turned over my ole chicken coop. It was you and Pauline who helped me git back on my feet.

We was glad to help.

And when my husband died—Lawd, I 'bout lost my mind. Her eyes watered, and she dropped her head. He was my heartbeat—the finest man God ever put the breath of life into.

John patted her hand. He sho' was. I know you miss him somethin' awful.

God knows I do, she admitted, fighting back tears. Been plenty of times I wouldn'a made it without y'all's help.

As they shared their appreciation for each other, Dr. Shaw stepped into the kitchen, trousers sagging below his protruding belly. In his haste to the Braxton home, he had forgotten his suspenders. While slipping into his coat, he said, "Pauline will