Memoirs of A Command Sergeant Major And Other Short Stories

LIBERTY PLACE

The attractive old lady surveyed the area thoughtfully.  As she looked around she saw black children of all ages, some playing, some fighting among themselves, and other just sitting around with nothing to do.  The houses in the area varied from good-looking brink to poorly maintained frame houses.

The real estate agent with her wondered why a white woman her age, she had to be at least 75 years old, would want to buy here in Liberty Place and live alone?  She shook her head and said to herself, “well a commission is a commission, I do not care where it comes from.”

About half an hour later, the old woman said, “Yes, this is the place where I would like to live, so draw up the contract.”  The agent had a friend who lived in Liberty Place and when she told her that an old white woman was going to buy the large brick double house that was practically in shambles, her friend could not believe it.  Word got around very quickly; if the agent thought she was shocked to find this type of person buying in Liberty Place, it was mild compared to the people of Liberty, especially the children, some of whom had a play house in the building she was buying.  Others played on the front area of the two acres that went with the house--and to top it all, none were happy about a white woman living among all blacks--what was she trying to do?  What was she trying to prove?

The settlement went well and the old woman began the renovations.  She hired professionals to redo the house, but she asked the children of the area if they would do the yard work and put the area in good condition.  Since she paid well, more than the kids could get at any other job, they said yes.   The old woman said she would supervise, but they had to have written permission from their families, since many of the children were under 10 years of age.

When all the permission slips were in, they gathered to meet on Saturday morning, a bright beautiful warm day.  The old woman told them what she wanted.  Two of the boys had dogs; one, a puppy, and the other, an older dog, but both were friendly.  As the day wore on, some of the younger children became tired of the work and began to clown around.  One of the boys placed a paper bag over the puppy’s nose and the old woman firmly instructed him to remove it and asked him how he would like it if someone did that to him.  He would not be able to get enough air and could smother to death, would he like that? “No ma'am,” said the boy.  Well I am sure that poor puppy doesn’t like it either.  Take off the bag and don’t do it again.”  The boy complied and soon a couple of the older boys were fighting.  In a loud firm voice, the woman said: “You boys are allowed to come here and work and to play, but never do I want to see you fighting among yourselves, do you understand.  If you cannot talk things out and settle what is wrong, then you will not be allowed to come here ever again!”  The boys were shocked at the tone and strength of the voice and the stern look that took over the usual gentle look on her face.  They decided it was better to listen to her than not have a place to come and play.  After all, their clubhouse was gone and there would be only the street to play in, if they did not behave.

All right everyone, come and take a break; I have some food for you.  You are all doing a great job, but you must take a break and keep up your strength.  While they were eating, the old woman told them that they were welcome to call her Aunt Nita.  Then she said: “If you children could have anything you wanted for a play area, what would you want most?”