Real and Raw - Part 2

Six years later we moved to Florida, yes, my father had decided he wanted to go where the
climate was warm year round. My dad had family in Tampa, Florida so they loaded the old green station wagon and off we went. Mom wasn't too happy about the move but went along with dad anyway.

On our way to Florida my father decided to take a detour through a town called Ozark, Alabama.
The only thing I can remember about the whole trip are two things. Mom was really angry at Dad, I mean really angry we were in Ozark to the point all she did was yell at us for every little thing we did. The other was not staying in Florida more than a week, dad said, "he didn't like the heat after all. "

We ended up back in Ohio moved out in to the country to a little farm house with a garage. My dad took the garage turned it in to a place to raise baby chicks. Oh, they were so cute and oh so noisy. All arrived in little boxes with tiny holes, amazing how many they fit in one small box and more amazed I was when one day, as I stepped outside to see one swinging from a rope. There I was just in time to see dad take a hatched and chop his head off. I stood there in shocked as I watched this poor chicken get up run around the yard, without his head, fall over and just lay there not making a move. As dad picked him up I started to run down a dirt path pass the row of cherry trees.

Rounding the curve to a black family that lived behind our home. The year was 1963 the place I arrived was the usual. A white house with a little green house in the back, a place I would visit often Gracie's place. She never minded that I'd visit a little knock on the screen door I'd walk in sit down in the old worn rocker. It was a safe place for me and Gracie knew if I didn't knock something was wrong.

That particular day as I rounded the corner of the dirt path I was greeted by Amos, Gracie's grandson. Although they were a black family, Gracie and my mom had bonded quickly. Amos, who at the time was 14 years old and I was 8. I played a lot with his sister, Mae who was nearly my age. I didn't mind, I knew nothing of color, to me she was just a friend like any other, in fact, we spent a lot of our time climbing those sweet cherry trees, eating the dare things like they were candy.

I said hi to Amos, and continued my way to Gracie's, Amos continued to walk with me up the porch and in to the little green house. I, taking my place on the rocker suddenly heard the door close. I knew it wasn't Gracie, she never closed her door in sunny, warm months, only at nightfall.