My mom compares my freedom on my bike to that of the dogs. We both ran
free without a care in the world. We got to hear, see, taste, and experience
fully every inch of that island. I knew that life was hard and that my parents
were busy trying to keep things a float. But I didn't really understand how
different or poor we were. I now see what a blessing that was.
I was lucky in that many of the elder men were still alive when I was
riding my banana-seat bike around. I was privileged to remember Mr. Happy, Mr.
Smitty, Mr. Brice, Mr. Fisher, Mr. Dick and Mr. Charlie. I got to hear their
stories. They died long before their wives as I assume they were older then
them. But I remember them. I got to spend time with June-Mom and her 100-year-old
sister Ms. Flossie. I remember Ms. Flossie being nice and staying off the
gossip train. She was at home most of the time and I loved to hang out with
her. I remember her having extremely long grey hair that she would meticulously
brush and then braid each day. I got to see Mr. Charlie mowing his lawn and
working in his garden as he neared 100 in age. He would kindly fill my bike
tire for me if it was flat. I rode my bike all the time so I went through tires
a lot. He would help when he could. I got to know Ms. Teenie and eat fried
chicken with her. She wasn't teenie at all which is why she died rather young
in comparison to everyone else.
Interestingly enough I don't remember details of how anyone died.
Somehow it wasn't traumatic to me. It was just part of what happened. They
lived until well into their 90's or more and then they were gone. That's all I
remember. I wasn't sheltered from it. But somehow it wasn't taboo either.
I'm fighting the urge in my head to write details about stories that are
flooding in. But that is not the purpose here. This is really about childhood
freedom. Adults my parent’s age may have had this experience. And maybe some
people my age, but I think it is rare. And my child’s generation certainly does
not have this freedom or the experience of being outside with nature and
talking to elders from sun up to sun down.
A typical bike ride for me would start with Poke's Road and end with
running down (later it was climbing due to erosion) the hill to go to the
beach. When I was done with that fantasy play and staring at the water I would
hop on my bike and head towards Ms. Dessa's. Mr. Dick was likely in his huge
beautiful garden so I would chat with him. I would stop in at June-Mom's
(Dessa's mother) and get some sweets and then to Ms. Dessa's. Ms. Dessa always
had something good cooking and maybe she was knitting. She was nearly blind but
that somehow that didn't stop her. Then I was on to Nana's. On the way I might
see Mr. Junior plowing a field. Mr. Charlie was in the garden and maybe Ms.
Margie and her sister Ms. Elma. If I didn't want to go to Nana's yet I could
pass her lane and head to Ms. Delema's and Mr. Happy's and maybe even stop at Ms.
Mills. If I were lucky all the ladies would be gathered at Ms. Mills to gossip
and puff on cigarettes. Then I would venture onward to Nana's. She was likely
outside on the pump box eating watermelon or maybe she was on the phone gossiping
with the other ladies or she could have been picking crabs. I loved to watch
her because her hands moved so fast. It was amazing to me then and still is
today. (More on the ladies and their crab picking careers later.)
After Nana's I would head back to the main road. There was maybe another
stop at Ms. Dessa's and then to the Fire House to see if anyone was there.
After that I would see Ms. Dot (after she retired it was Mr. Leroy) at the tiny
closet sized post office. It was loads of fun to hang out with Ms. Dot and help
her with the mail. Then I would stop by the church and see if there was anything
happening there. I would peer in the graveyard on my way to Ms. Nora's. Ms.
Nora's could provide hours of entertainment. I would get a coca-cola out of the
old machine and probably some candy. Then I would sit on a bench and listen to
the elder men tell stories. They could gossip even more then the ladies. They
were there instead of being out on their boats in the water for one reason or
another. I loved sitting at Ms. Nora's. They talked with such a strange accent
that sometimes you couldn't understand them, but what I heard was always
entertaining.
After that it was on to the wharf. There was likely a stop at my second
favorite beach (Poke's Road was my favorite), and then onto the wharf itself.
There maybe was someone, like Mr. Bill, under the pavilion drinking beer. He
did that nearly daily as he was quite an alcoholic. He was so pleasant and
entertaining though. Once I tired of that it was on to the boat docks. Maybe
someone was baiting a line. I could watch that for hours and hours. It was
almost hypnotic. I don't even think they would talk much to me, but I still
liked to watch them. I would look out to see if anyone was coming in because I
might get lucky and see someone unloading lots of crabs. That was always fun.
I remember how excited I was when the state put in a new dock area where
the boats were. I called it my boardwalk. I would fantasize about this for
hours as I rode my bike back and forth on it a million times. I occasionally
got a little crazy and once even dumped my bike into the marsh. My Walkman sunk
and I nearly followed suit trying to rescue it.
Occasionally some big boat from "away" would come in the
summer and visit the island. I remember a sailboat or two. That was super
exciting. Also exciting was if the teenage boys were at the wharf jumping of
the lighthouse railing. It wasn't actually a lighthouse but it was something in
the water with light to guide in the boats. I don't think I ever went swimming
off it but it sure was fun to watch them having fun and being crazy. It was better
then them growling at me which is what they did most of the time.
It was an amazing time of freedom and childhood exuberance. A time I am
very grateful for.
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