A story of the first, last and only woman a boy ever falls in love with...that will last forever.
LIFETIME PUBLISHING in association with the soon to be WAGFEST Publications Inc. proudly presents...
This one submitted By Shawleen Guthrie of New Philadelphia , Ohio. She will be recieving a full WAGFEST trip for 2 sponsored by Wagfest for her participation in this and having the best book cover design. Congratulations Shawleen!
Here's a sample of what you can expect:
Exerpt only: from the long awaited anticipated release
"NEVER LET GO OF MY HAND"
My grandmother didn't sleep well at night because both my grandfather and my dad would stay out all night and not come home until wee hours of the morning. So she never slept well because she was concerned if they would actually make it home at all. When I was over, I slept in the bed with my grandmother.
I remember this one night. My grandmother got up to go to the kitchen. Just as she got out of the room, there was a knock at the window. That's all I remember, then somebody whispered,
"Mama let me in!"
Mind you, I don't even recall ever seeing my father in person, nor have I ever seen a photograph of him with either me or my brother. So this whisper is the only recollection I would have of him alive.
"Mama let me in!"
Wanting to see him so bad, I woke up to tell her. "Mama Dorothy, my daddy say let him in."
She was bewildered being he had a key to let himself in. She simply said. "He did?" excitedly.
I assumed after that she thought he would come in the door. However my grandmother kept it like a mortuary around there with all that fancy ass funeral home furniture I called it. So I was glued to her after that. I wasn't about to go back in that bedroom by my lil' bad 4 year old self. She was gonna come in that room with me, and she did.
On our way down the hall we heard another knock at the side window. It was more like a brushing. You know like a dog trying to alert his owner he wants to come back in the house. Then a faint whisper was there again saying
"Mama, Mama, let me in."
Then she replied "Button?" That's what she called him. "Button, is that you?"
Before he could answer good she was at the front door and I was right there beside her. Though I was scared, I was ecstatic at going to be able to tell my mama and my brother I saw my daddy for the first time. I wanted to see what he would look like aside from those pictures that were all through and about the house. This was going to be my defining moment.
She opened the door and no one was there. All there was was a set of tail lights speeding off into the night. My grandmother, not sure as to what or who it was for certain, immediately shut the door. She then began to lock every lock in the house. When suddenly the phone rang, it was my Godmother asking if everything was ok with Button. He had just left her house, knocking on the window. When she went to let him in he was gone. This concerned my grandmother now. My grandmother had a remedy for situations such as this…PRAY. Once she discussed things with God, everything was gon' be alright. My dad often came home in the wee hours of the night, to my grandmother's dismay. So she thought nothing of it.
We decided we'd go say some prayers and go on back to bed. A few hours passed when my grandmother heard a car pull up. Thinking it was my dad; she got right up and went to the door. I stayed in the bed this time. She said "We're going to surprise him when he comes and sees you in my bed."
As she opened the door she saw the same tail lights pull away. Not recognizing the type of car it was or with the presence of mind to get the license plate. After the car turned the corner, she heard that faint whisper again. "Mama, mama I'm down here."
She replied, "Button?"
He murmured, "Here Mama ,down here on the side walk".
Well my grandmother had a little walk way from the carport that you could see from the street, but from the door where she stood, you couldn't see that part of the sidewalk in which he lay. Shrubbery and bushes camouflaged her view. She stepped outside the door into the mysterious midnight. Took another step down and found her one and only son shot in the stomach murmuring in his own blood. Never making a sound, my grandmother rushed back in the house and got a few towels. Helped her son to his feet and made their way to the car. She laid my daddy in the back seat and came back into the house soaked in his blood. Still without ever saying a word she got me and a sheet and placed me in the front seat and wrapped me up. Without me ever looking into the back seat to get that world famous glimpse of my daddy, I sat my 4-year old butt in the front seat curious. I listened to my daddy moan and murmur. "He gon' get em ,he gon' get em."
While my grandmother trembling drove, not to the hospital, but to my aunt's house to drop me off. What was my grandmother thinking?He was shot not me, but that's how it went down and that's all I remember about that.
Six weeks later my daddy died from Pneumonia from the bullet wound in his stomach. He had gone into a coma, but before he went, all he would say to anyone was "I'm gon get 'em. I'm gon get 'em." He never did.
My grandmother was there January 5, 1971 when he took his last breath. He died holding her hand and she ain't never let go.
(If you ever been a mother, you would know...ain't nothing like the bond between a mother and her son)
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