INTRODUCTION
As I sit here with pen in hand, I brace myself for the difficult task ahead. I worry whether or not I can really do this. I wonder if I’m ready to open up all those doors that have remained closed for so long. What if I miss something? What if my emotions refuse to allow it? No…it must be done.
If not now, when? If not me, who?
I take a deep breath and allow my mind to go back. Back past the heartbreak and sorrow, back past the miraculous and the unexplainable, back past the struggles and hardships, even back before the joys and the victories.
Back to the very beginning.
Back to a young girl with no idea that her chance encounter with a handsome stranger would evolve into a legacy of love, labor, lessons and ultimately, life.
How do you share a lifetime? One tale at a time.
My name is Buford “Pat” Snipes and this is my story. A tale of a conqueror. Perhaps not the medieval warrior you might envision, but a victor nonetheless. Walk with me as I journey through the extraordinary true tale of an ordinary man with an amazing destiny – my husband, Aaron Snipes, Sr.
He lived the life, but left me to “tell the tale.”
Pat Snipes
There are people who come into your life for specific purposes which may be unknown at the time but there is awareness. This is how I felt the first time I met this man about whom I’m writing. It happened one hot, sunny Sunday in 1950. While visiting my Auntie Eula, we noticed this shiny, super clean, black 1949 Ford car parked across the railroad track. My sister’s boyfriend came to see her. He looked at me and said, “I have a friend out in the car. He drove me here. Will you go out there and meet him?” Not knowing this first meeting was connected to our destiny, I said, “Of course I would.” I proceeded to the car and introduced myself. I asked him to get out and come join me and the others inside the house. He replied, “No!” His refusal was ignited by having to drive on a muddy, unpaved road where I lived. Imagine the fury of a young man whose car was freshly washed and polished with white-walled tires! After getting over his anger, we introduced ourselves properly. When I told him my name—which is Buford—he said, “I am not going to call you by that name. I am going to call you Pat.” From that day until his death, he called me Pat as my nickname.
I learned a lot about Aaron Snipes, Sr. that day as I sat in his car. Born March 21, 1937, the youngest of his siblings, he was seventeen and I was only fourteen. Born in Schley County, he lived with his mother and six siblings. His dad had died leaving his mom to raise the children alone. He came up the hard way but never took the easy way out. From a little boy, he wanted to make life better for his mom. It was not easy for his mom raising five kids. So she married again. This was a big mistake because his stepfather was a mean man who spanked the children unmercifully. He and his siblings vowed when they were older and he spanked them, they were going to kill him. I thank God this never happened again. One day, his stepfather just up and left. Later, Aaron and the family learned their stepfather became sick and died.
Shortly after his brother, Willie “Boot” Snipes, enlisted in the military, something terrible happened to him. He was aboard an American ship during the attack on Pearl Harbor. He was one of the soldiers who burned up. Thereafter, Aaron’s family worked many years as sharecroppers on the farm in Ellaville, Georgia. They never came out in the clear at the end of the year after always being told they owed the “man.” They hoped, maybe the next year, they might break even. His mom had already received the money from the military for her son’s death and had bought land in Americus, Georgia. She was having a house built. Mrs. Essie Snipes-Trice told the kids the family was leaving and moving to Americus.
After moving to Americus, young Aaron Snipes began to acquire popularity at school. He became one of the best school patrolmen ever. The children knew he didn’t tolerate foolishness. He gained their respect and they in return loved and respected him. He was the kind of person who never started a job he didn’t finish. He always wanted to be the best he could be in everything and he tried to convey this message to everyone. He constantly stated, “When you come to a place, make sure you leave it better than you found it.”
After moving to Americus, he acquired a job at Eli Attayah grocery, as a grocery boy. Back then, people could come to town and buy grocery or call in their order and have it delivered to their home. Well, that’s the kind of work he did. He had this bicycle with a big basket on the front. The groceries were placed there to deliver them to the customer’s homes.
This was where he worked when we met the second time.