Dem Damn Church Folk

By Bessa Bellavia

Penny, the church kid, a once young and ambitious girl from a small southen Island on the coast of Mississippi, had what seemed like the perfect life. She had the world in the palm of her hand. She was the youngest of her siblings, and some said, she was favored by her parents. The elders of her community seemed to adore her. She didn't have a care in the world, or a clue of what was about to happen. Penny grew up as a devout Christian. Her faith, like most believers was strong and unshakable.

 

Penny's life seemed to be nothing short of awesome. She was destined for greatness. She was surrounded by people who loved her. So she thought. Penny would soon get a reality check. Life was about to reveal it's ugly hands, and this was something, she could not escape, nor was she prepared for. Penny was about to endoure hardships and let-downs from the very people she trusted and held so dear to her heart.

 

Life was about to have a great deal of laughter at her very own expense. What could she do? Who would she be able to lean on or confide in? Growing up in the crack cocain era on a no name Island on the Gulf. Overcoming many obstacles in a hard knock life. As this once nieve and innocent young lady navigate through life learning lessons and making huge mistakes. She'll somehow manage to crate a stable life for herself, but at what cost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bessa Bellavia
• Release date: Apr 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798894120362

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Youlander Puryear    

4819 Jackson Ave.

Moss Point, MS 39563

[e-mail]

228-460-5039

Dem Damn Church Folk

By Bessa Bellavia

Approx. 60,000 words

I thank Yahweh for walking, talking, carrying, protecting, discipling, forgiving and loving me. I dedicate this book to my ancestors who keep putting real and true interesting History on my path of discovering who I AM. This is for all my girls; Tanina, Hunnie Bunchies, Phat Juicy, LuvBug, and My Nita who all have given me pure joy and a reason to write. To my sister by another mother, JSU roommate, Tee Tee. To a dear heart; Chi-town, Cowboy Nate, whom I count on for many countless encouraging uplifting words and never cynical attitude towards me. Last, but never least, my inspirational God given mother who always listened when I was going through many of my lowest darkest pits in life. Bet.

Fuck dem damn church folk, they don’t have no heaven or hell to put me in.  Church meeting did not turn out like everyone expected. I have been staying out of the devil way aka church folk, now the elders are summoning me to come speak for them. The elect has taken over the church and allowed the devil to use them. They have no respect for the order of the church, everyone doing whatever they want while stepping on the elders. I went to the last chuch meeting with fighting on my mind and I did, yes fight. Screaming that I’m glad to be out of this church anyways, I know yawl stealing money, sleeping with each other wives/husbands, practicing the heebegeebees with people spiritual lives and I will not be a part of it! While being dragged out the church side door by some self-ordained, small-mined, dumb deacons. I told them that 90% of dem I don’t like no way and the other 10 is Family in this damn church and I fo sho don’t like dem.  Muddtown Island!  The last place next to hell, I want to be.  Since I’m here and only because of God.  I must be about my Father’s business.    1Timothy 4:1-16

That’s the end, let me start from the start of this so you can have a clearer understanding, I hope; of who I AM.   

I AM the last of a dying breed, some of my great- grandparents’ direct ancestors were slaves off ships like Clotilda. Other great-grandparents’ were Native Americans per Ancestry, PEQUOT tribe, and the POCAHONTAS CHOWAN or PAMUNKY tribe all works of my ancestry puzzle to be pieced together.

People need to take God out of a box and stop limiting God to your wants and needs.  God is the Creator of All Things not Some Things, ALL.  I say that to say that God is Funny. God is Just. God is Caring. God is Forgiving. God is Patient. God is Kind. God is Merciful. God is Love. God has a Sense of Humor.  Laughter is the Best Medicine, for God and I laugh quit often.  My relationship with God is too deep for mere Mortals to ever know or understand.  I used to question my existence because I never fit in with the Clicks and always felt like an Outsider.  Even amongst a crowd of people, my own peers, I felt I was a misfit, different. I seem to be more comfortable with the Elders. However, Now that I know who’s I AM. Most definitely know who I AM. God is for me, so the rest don’t matter. I was created to break generational curses.

Jackson Park is the place where I was born and grew up, an Island at the bottom of the MAP.  Mississippi Muddy Gulf, Muddtown, where only the Strong SURVIVE!!!

Sitting to the East of us is the Panhandle, to our West is Naw-lins, North is Memphis and bound immediately to our South about 3.0 miles is the Gulf of Mexico.  Yeah, We's at the bottom; Bottom of the fucking map.

Baaaaaaaaby, everything and I mean everything comes in on this Poisoned water.  Some of your fantasies and all of your nightmares can come true. You better know where you’re going and who you are fooling with when you come to Muddtown.  You Gotta knows someone to be here. Muddtown is not a city; it is a Spiritual Village and Community of Native Americans and Africans. Where everybody knows everybody, everybody kin to everybody. And everybody minds their on freaking business. No one knows shit, no one knows anybody, and no one knows anything. The town of #WEDON’TGIVEAFUCK#MINDOURBIZZNESS#WEALLIN.  This is not a place where strangers just move to.  You either dirty, hiding, popping pills, or on some bad super bad can’t get right dope.

In 2023 there is still strong hate amongst the people. They are harboring a hate instilled in our ancestors hearts passed down through stories told that was towards the white slave master that bought and stole slaves from Africa; the white man who stole and claimed the land from the Natives whom they the people of color today will not take it out on because, to be honest, FEAR.

I John 4:18

"There is no fear in love;

Instead, perfect love drives out fear;

Because fear involves punishment.

The one who fears has not reached perfection in love.

We love because He first loved us.

So, they take it out on each other, shooting and killing one another meanwhile the white man still police brutality, beating and hanging people of color getting away with it.  The evil in this town is Contagious.  Once it gets a grip on you, you’re done for.  Only Jesus can Save you.  The more things change the more things remain the same.  Same game, different players.

I entered Earth the summer of ’71 wen Cadillac’s, hoes, pimps, marijuana and Motown was the shit.  Vietnam war, President Nixon declares a War on Drugs, FedEx is founded in Tennessee, Jazz Musician Louis Armstrong dies from a heart attack, Walt Disney World opened in Orlando, Florida, Satchel Paige is inducted into Baseball’s Hall of Fame, Amtrak Railroad begins, Race riot in Brooklyn, NY, and another last of a dying breed, Tupac was created.

Maw was going through the change and Paw was going through middle age crises when I was born. What did they get? A menopaused change of life crises love baby. ME!

I was raised in the Church, have a personal relationship with God Our Father, Yeshua, and the Holy Spirit. As it is written from the beginning with Man, Cain killed Abel. So, bad and good Angels have been fighting. You can’t know one without knowing the other as if they go hand in hand. You have to; therefore, make a choice. God says either you with Him or you’re with the devil. No compromising, I Chose God.

I grew up in the trenches on the corner of Machpelah and Jackson across from the Kickoff Club. Lions, Tigers, Bears and The SWAMPS bka; The Wetlands. 

Momma Rose and Daddy Gold ran a community store/candy shop by day, gambling house and boot-legged whiskey by night.    My 1st memory of ole death’ was a Christmas morning, I was 2 yrs. old, standing by Momma Rose’s bed staring at her, waiting for her to reach for my hand. She was lying quiet and not talking to me when Momma Aunt Lue came in and scooped me up and placed me on a stool in the corner and told me not to move. I didn’t know what was happening, all I remember is Maw Maw crying and people came to our house and put a white sheet over Momma Roses’ body.  They took Momma Rose out of the house, put her into a long black car and I never saw her again per my memories. The people in the long black hearse were the undertaker they called him. A scary eerie name if you ask me. 

Momma Rose was a mean woman from the stories I’ve been told. She would cuss, fight and whoop kids’ asses with extension cords. She didn’t use belts nor switches. Today it’s called child abuse, IJS. One incident I recall hearing is Slugger, Teenie, Pro and Unc Jack were lined up against the wall of the store to get whippings. Teenie snuck off and hid watching all the others get their beatings. Pro ran to Daddy Gold and they both got a beating. Teenie said it was the worst beating she ever saw, then Momma Rose came looking for Teenie. Hollering, ‘Tennie! Tennie! You better get out here’. Teenie was under the kitchen table in a large pot peeping out. When Momma Rose did find her, she was so tickled, she just laughed and said ‘get in there and take a bath. 

Daddy Gold was a loan shark who was a Shark about his money.  He cut and beat motherfuckers about his Money and his Girls. Once, I was ear hustling standing behind the door to the front porch when I heard 2 of my girl cousins talking with their friends on the porch say, Giiirrrrrrrl, let me give ya’ll the low down on last night. How bout we met these dudes at the Shalamar, they are dancing with us and was buying us drinks.  When the club was closing, we asked them to give us a ride to Muddtown since it was on there way to Escatawpa.  They said right on, let’s go!  On our way down the boulevard, they stopped and picked up another guy.  We riding, smoking and laughing, when I looked out the window I saw, By o la batch tre. (Bayou La Batre, Alabama) I scream cut the freaking music down, they say what’s da matter with you? I hollered you passed our street where are you taking us?  The driver hollered shut up! We are going to have some fun with you gals.  My heart started beating fast and hard now I’m scared I started crying, sobbing, and saying you better take us home right now cause my granddaddy is Gold Dollar and my grand mommy is Momma Rose; before I could finish sobbing anything else, the nigga they picked up said Man! These Gold Dollar and Momma Rose Girls?  Niggers take these girls home or wherever you got them from, cause Gold Dollar is going to cut your heads clean off your bodies and not the head attached to your neck, while Momma Rose and her girls gonna bury yaw’l alive while pouring acid on yaw’l dickless bodies.  Matter of fact let me out right here, I will walk in the darkness of Alabama and risk the Klan killing me than Gold Dollar or Momma Rose.  I ain’t going with Ya'll, man stop the freaking car I ain’t playing let me out.  Do Yawl know who Gold Dollar is? Man, I’m begging you take these girls back.  They turned the car around so fast hell I know we were on 2 wheels, they put our asses out quickly and swiftly in Creola.  We walked home smoking reefer and laughed to keep from crying. Truth be told we were petrified.

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Momma Rose

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Daddy Gold

Yes Ma’am, I say to Momma Aunt Lue, as she tells me not to lick all the cake batter out of the bowl cause you know your ol’ raggedy stomach will be hurting later she says jokingly.  I don’t care! Is all that’s going through my mind.  Let it hurt, I will eventually use the bathroom with a little help from that nasty, yucky, euky brown stuff in the bottle. While licking each finger over and over, I recite the books of the Bible, I had to learn all 66 Books.  Momma Aunt Lue was a Holy Roly Christian, always going to church and tent revivals, and prayer meetings. You could likely find her reading the Bible, humming, quilting, crocheting, and listening to old negro spirituals and shouting to Rev. James Cleveland Gospel songs. The Momma Aunt Lue I knew and loved. But, oh they tell me of a much younger different Momma Aunt Lue, that carried a knife and would use it on anyone for saying the wrong thing out their mouth to her.

I watched Captain Kangaroo, and Mr. Rogers Neighborhood.  We played house, had tea parties, drank coffee, knit, sew bedspreads and ate fried bacon, eggs, and toast for brunch. All I knew for the first decade of my life was going to church, praising the Lord, studying the Bible, praying faithfully, rebuking/casting demons, laying on hands, singing in the church choir, visiting the sick and shut in. Momma Aunt Lue had a purple and gold sign in her little 2 ½ room shack that read, A Family that Prays Together, Stays Together. Momma Aunt Lue was a petite brown skinned woman with Blue/Gray eyes.  We had church all the time, weekdays, and weekends. Sister Alexander ministered and held tent revivals. People would worship God freely and enjoyed each other, speaking in tongues, healing the sick, danced the Holy dance, lay on hands, shouting falling over chairs, like fire real fire.  I remember listening to Mahalia Jackson, Mighty Clouds of Joy, The Jackson Southerniers, and The Bolton Brothers.  When the Gospel was free and the minister’s purpose was how many souls were led to Jesus Christ and not all about how much money taken in., so I thought. I enjoyed the penny marches and the balls during the spring. Momma Aunt Lue would have me standing in the middle of the floor for seem like hours while she tucked and tugged on a gown, she was making me. Stand still! Stop moving! Quit laughing so much! That book better not fall off your head!

Saturdays were washing day, with a washboard.  She would get hot soapy water in the big round tin wash/bathtub, then squeezed and rubbed against the washboard.  She would tell me how they washed in the Leaf River when she was a lil gal. She learned to sew doll clothes, can-can/ball, prom, and wedding gowns.

During the summer I would sit with Momma Aunt Lue, Sister Alexander, and Mother Goldsmith on the porch at Mother Goldsmith house which was a couple houses over from us. Mother Goldsmith chewed tobacco and use to say, Now Baaaaybee, go over there and bring me that spit can I left inside the room.  My mind screaming, really lady, yuck! Nasty. But as always, like the good obedient child I was, I just says, yes sum" and slowly walk to retrieve the canister. The Deacon and Mother Goldsmith did not have any children, it was just the two of them who slept in separate rooms. I would sweep and mop for them. They were in their 80’s years of age, their house was always clean and smelled like moth balls mixed with chewing bacca and pine soil. Talking about a sinus headache.  Their yard was beautiful with a Big Magnolia Bush in the center that I loved running and playing under. Roses lined the white picket fence, and a big pear tree grew in the backyard. After picking a mountain of pears, I would eat pear after pear after pear, juice running down the sides of my mouth.  They would be telling me not to eat so many pears or I was going to have to go pick some more pears off the tree, for they were picking pears to make some oh so Heavenly Delightful pear preserves. 

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In elementary school I met one of my bestests friends Bertha. She and I became close instantly, she lived down the street. I was not allowed to go outside with the other kids after school, I had church to go to every day. School is where Bertha and I bond with our friendship. She had 10 brothers and 10 sisters, there were 21 of them. Whew! They sure did keep it interesting, there was always something popping off at their house. I could hardly wait to get to school to hear the stories that Bertha would only share with me. I was so intrigued about the good stuff Bertha used to tell me about her siblings. I did not have any siblings my age to play with, my siblings were grown with children older than me by the time I came.

What? You do not go to church, I yelled when Bertha told me one Monday, her family did not go to church. Oh! You and your whole family are going to hell, I thought it was a written law that everyone went to church. The Turner clan did not go to church. They mostly drank, cuss, fuck, and fight. WOW! I said, This how people that don’t go to church act, Sukey Sukey! Let the good times roll baby.

The 80’s is a decade that I had buried locked and forgotten until I moved back to The Islands in 2015. God has revealed and uncovered the mask of the people that I thought were Christ like, only to learn that they are being led by the devil. Dem Damn Church Folk.

1981, Papa John, Maw Maw’s daddy passed away in the country, Benjo, MS. A beautiful, outstretched land as far as the eyes could see, sitting on the Leaf River. Sweet, sweet sugar cane fields for miles. It always took forever to get to his house on our Sunday drives to the woods. Where they lived