Yolande Nicholson Spears - The Gift: How Music and Family Saved a Young Girl

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Copyright 2012 by Yolande Nicholson Spears

ISBN 978-0-7414-6765-2 Paperback

ISBN 978-0-7414-7394-3 Hardcover

ISBN 978-0-7414-9539-6 eBook

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The story youre about to read takes place between 1957 and 1964. In a series of vignettes, chronicled in a young girls voice, it details events that took place in my life between the ages of seven and fourteen. And while Ive taken some stylistic liberties to better serve the story, the experiences describedwhether rooted in physical fact or emotional reality are true.

Many things prompted the writing of this narrative. First and foremost, I wanted to inspire young readers, helping them understand that no matter how overwhelming, challenges can almost always be overcome. I also wanted to champion the cause of art and arts education. I hoped that my story might awaken adults to the transformational role these vital subjects can play in the lives of youth. Finally, I wanted to pay tribute to a host of extraordinary people.

These include my grandfather, a freed slave, whose half-white sister secretly taught him to read in a candlelit barn. This was no small accomplishment. As a slave he could be hung, burned alive, or shot to death for learning to read or count. I also extend my gratitude to my father, a man whose love of reading and poetry inspired my own belief in the power of the word to transform peoples lives. And I have the utmost respect for the thousands of educators in schools and in the African-American churches who have dedicated their lives to developing the intellectual, artistic, and spiritual potential of young people.

Above all, I write for my motherJuliette Williamson Nicholson. Despite a life marred by daunting poverty, health challenges, and heartbreaking upheavals, she managed to instill in me and my siblings the importance of improving our minds, tending our bodies, caring for our communities, and nurturing our souls. Even more, she taught usthrough example and loving instructionto always believe we could fulfill our dreams, no matter how impossible or faraway they might seem.

To herand all the women like herI bow down in absolute awe.

***

I felt Mama gently shaking me. I opened my eyes. The room was dark.

Get dressed, she said. Dont ask any questions. And please, Yoli, hurry.

As soon as Id pulled on my clothes, Mama rushed me, my sister and brothers into the backseat of Uncle Saxs Buick.

Where are we going? I asked as the car roared into action.

On a trip, honey.

Without Daddy?

Mama hesitated. Yes. Without Daddy.

I hated to think of Daddy all alone in the apartment. So I patted Mama on the shoulder. When she didnt respond, I clutched her silky hair.

Stop that! Youre going to wake Kevin.

When Daddy wakes up, is he coming to meet us?

No, Daddys not meeting us. Hes got to work.

Is he coming to meet us after work?

No.

Why not?

Because were going to your Aunt Adas house in Kentucky. Youre going to have a wonderful summer vacation.

Are you staying with us in Kentucky?

Mama sighed. No, Baby, Im dropping you off at Aunt Adas and then coming back to St. Louis. While Im gone, I need you to be a big girl and help Greg take care of Jessica and Kevin. Can you do that for me?

My stomach tightened as questions raged through my mind: How could I take care of my younger sister and brother without Mama? What if Mama and Daddy started fighting again and she forgets to pick us up?

My heart pounded. When are you coming back?

Ill be gone just a few months. Now please, Yolande! Let go of me and try to take a nap.

Mama started to sing as she often did to ease us into sleep. I think this was her way of praying. When she reached the second verse of Jesus Loves Me ThisI Know, I put my jacket over my head, hiding my tears. Finally, serenaded by her soft singing, I drifted off.

When I opened my eyes, the car had stopped on the side of the road. Uncle Sax was lifting the potty bucket from the trunk. Mama told everyone to get out and pee. After that, we sat in a circle, munching on bologna sandwiches. Between bites, Uncle Sax cursed a man named Jim Crow.

In earlier visits south, Daddy had cursed Jim Crow too. People of color should fight against Jim Crow! Or else we should move to England or Canada, hed shout. Mama always shushed him, though I know she was proud of him for speaking his mind.

After eating we piled back into the car. Mama passed out coloring and comic books. For awhile, I happily drew and read, though soon the cars monotonous motion lulled me to sleep.

But within minutes of drifting off, Uncle Saxs voice startled me awake.

The children! he shouted, Quick, cover them!

On the floor! Mama said as she threw a blanket over us.

Lord Jesus! The work of demons! Uncle Sax boomed as he got out of the car. He yelled to Mama to lock the doors.

Frightened, but curious, I lifted the corner of my blanket and peered through the window. I could see Uncle Sax running towards two men struggling to release a charred lump swinging from the branch of a scorched tree. A group of women huddled nearby, holding on to each other, weeping and wailing.

Mama turned around, her face fearful. Down! Everyone down!

I dove to the car floor, squeezing my eyes shut. The air settled in my lungs so thick I felt like I was drowning in a swamp.

When the door yanked open, my mouth went dry. Beads of sweat trickled down my temples, burning my eyes. I wanted to scream, but I couldnt find my voice. The monsters were coming to get us.

But it wasnt the monsters. It was Uncle Sax. Were in Klan country, he said. Were not stopping til we get outta this damn place.

As we drove away, Mama instructed us to get up from the floor. Through the rear window I saw a lump on the ground, its blackened feet sticking out from the blankets edge.

Terrified, I soiled my pants.

Mamas voice was soft and slow, trying for my sake not to be scared. Its all right Baby, she soothed. As soon as we get away from here, well pull off the road and change.

After that, we didnt make any more stops though Aunt Adas house was still a long, long way away.

***

When we finally arrived at Aunt Adas, she was sitting on her big, white porch, the late afternoon light washing over her apricot colored skin. This was the third time Id seen Aunt Ada and she was just as pretty as Id remembered.

Mama hurried up onto the porch, laughing and smiling. After squeezing Mama, Kevin, Jessica, and Greg so hard I feared theyd break, she scooped me up in her arms, her bracelets jingling like tiny glass bells. Aunt Ada then gestured for us to follow her into the house. She led us to a lacy table covered with platters of pineapple glazed ham, collard greens, deviled eggs, fried fish, string beans, and baked macaroni and cheese, my favorite food in the world.