I was four years old as I stood inside the doorway of the kitchen quietly listening to the defying tones of my eldest sister as my parents pleaded with her to let them raise the child so she could continue her music career. She was being groomed by important people who were helping my parents pay for her schooling.

When I was five,Mom and I traveled to New London,CT.so she could take care of my sister after the birth of her only son of ten children. Her husband was in the navy. At that time,he was only allowd to be a cook on the sub because he was black. He was a very tall man with chestnut skin and wavey black hair from Texas and when he cooked breakfast,it was wonderful. It was the first time I had eggs with cheese and grits with butter. Mom sent me there for the next four summers. When they came to visit, they would take me back with them and put me on a bus home where Mom and Dad would be waiting for me at the bus stop infront of the North Church in the town square. That was the first time;after that my sister went with me.
The attic was off limits. It was Dads domain but I was bound and determined to go up there to find the paper (I was told by my siblings) that said I was adopted. Dad kept a lock on the door but sometimes it wasn't locked. The first time I opened the door I quickly closed it when I saw the shot gun hanging on the door.

Portsmouth use to be a navy town and when the subs came in the black sailor were pointed in the direction of our house and Dad would stand at the top of the hill with the shotgun (empty) and tell the four of five young men at the bottom of the hill to go away and leave his daughters alone.

I worked up the courage to get pass the shotgun and of course I never found the papers but I found a new world of discoveries. So I went to Mom and asked her outright. She took me in her arms and told me to get those foolish thought out of my head. Besides, she made it very clear that I was a child after my own fathers heart.

If things got to out of hand, Mom would quietly tell me to get my coat and meet her upstairs in her room where she would comb my hair as I continuely asked,"where are we going?"
We went to the movies and the movies opened up a new world for me to retreat to in my day dreams. King Kong was my frist memory.I cried so bad when he was being short down;Mom had to drag me home because I was so overcome with grief.
Mom always instilled in us that we were human beings frist. Until it was put clearly in my face,I never thought I was defferent so I with all the other children in in my world had the cinderella-snow white syndrome. Before we got our first TV(Mom bought off one of those truck that came from the city) we sat around the radio and listen to amos and andy,the whistler,lone ranger,the shadow and soap oprahs.
When Mom was home, the radio stayed on all day and I learned the words to all the music. When Mom put me on stage at the ripe old age of six I found the one area of my life in which I was in control of my life and everyone around within hearing of my voice because I always got a standing ovation. In the real world I slowly retreated within myself and clung even tighter to Moms apron strings.

I'm always asked how old was I when this happened of that happened. I always answered, seven. It was the age I remembered being when I went to my mother and told her about being molested,when in fact it was happening for years but, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Mom and Dad were hard core Republicans until Kennedy. This was mostly due to mom because she was a free thinker and encouraged us to be the same. Dad on the other hand was very proud and he instilled in us a fierce independence. I walked through life with the I can do it myself and I don't need you attitude when someone hurt me. He also made it clear that we were to stand together at all times and NEVER tell on anyone. This was enforced by the one who told getting punished as well as the one who did it. If the one who did it did not come forward, everyone got punished. I know this seems harsh but after growing up I understood that dad had to do the only thing he knew to do in order to maintain order while he was at work. Mom was just to soft hearted and she married so young. Her parents had high expectations of her and her sister. They even went to finishing school. Mom was always correcting our English. She didn't have much success at stopping us from saying r at the end of our er words. Dad had to teach her how to cook and for a long time washed and combed and braided the older girls hair. Mom was a good cook but when Dad cooked, my mouth started wartering from the wonderful smells of fried chicken,fried fish, hot bread, corn bread, etc.
Our house was always buzzing with musical sounds and smells from the kitchen and people talking. Someone was always practicing an instrument on the other side or warming up their vocals. My middle sister went to the Boston Conservatory of Music. Her soprano gave me goose bumps and chills up and down my spine. My older brothers and sisters were always coming home with the latest records which consisted mostly of swing and jazz. I promised myself that when I grew up, I would never listen to any more jazz. When Billie Holiday died, the whole house stopped buzzing for a few days. I got so I couldn"t think or sleep without those noises. When there were disagreements, it still sounded like music because everyone argued in the key they sang in.