EXCERPT  Chapter 2

Man Of The House

“Tragedy” is a word in the English language that I didn’t learn until I was 10-years-old and once I learned it; I wished that I would never have to hear this word again. In my life, tragedy has crossed my path many times.

I have since learned that we all will have experience with the word “tragedy.” What’s important to remember is how we handle tragedy.

If by some odd twist of fate, you have never experienced some form of tragedy, then you need to prepare yourself. People who have had tragic experiences will tell you that sharing your thoughts and feelings with friends and family who love and care about you is truly a blessing.

            Being able to talk about tragedy helps everyone overcome life’s ups and downs. So many types of tragedy affect us in different ways that I wouldn’t even dare try to name them all.

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My first experience with real tragedy was in 1957, when our family suffered several setbacks.

My stepfather, Daddy James, passed away shortly after he was diagnosed with liver cancer. Daddy James became ill in the early weeks of January and, after a two-week stay in the hospital, he died the last week of January. My younger sister, Sherrie, was only 4 years old. She had a birthday coming up in February when she would turn 5. Sadly, Sherrie’s father died a week before her fifth birthday.

A month later, my mother and my sister Sherrie moved in with us. Now we were all together again.

Staying with my mother and grandparents was great. However, Sherrie was sad a lot and cried all the time, as she was close to her father. We all missed Daddy James. He was a great father to all of us. Over the next month, we were trying to adjust to our new living situation and Daddy James’ death.

Then, tragedy struck again.

Papa Manchester was, without a doubt, the person who had the most profound effect in my life.

When he passed away in 1957, I was 10 years old. He was someone that I was very proud of and respected a great deal. I loved my Papa Manchester very much. He had many friends and family members who also loved and respected him. Papa Manchester’s death was the second death that I experienced at an early age.

Both deaths left me with a horrible feeling of helplessness. I can’t ever recall my grandfather being ill or even missing a day of work. He always seemed to be in good health.

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Before my grandfather’s death, one morning as I was getting ready for school, I could hear my grandmother in her room praying. As I came closer to her bedroom door, I could see that my grandfather was still lying there in bed. I knew then that something was terribly wrong. My grandfather was always at work by the time I got up for school. To my surprise, he was still in bed.

I wondered what could be wrong. I pushed the door open and Big Mama turned around to face me. She was crying. I went in to be close to her and asked “What’s wrong?”

She then said, “Your grandfather is not feeling very well.” Then she told me that I should get ready for school. I looked around my grandmother and I could see that Papa Manchester was in pain. As I turned to leave, I heard Papa Manchester’s pained voice cracking in a tone that I had never heard before, “Son, come here.”

Papa Manchester held out one of his arms, opening his hand for me to take it. He held my hand tightly. He said, “Son, now you listen to your grandmother and mother. I may be going to the hospital. Son, be good.” Then he said, “Son, I love you. Come here. Give me a hug.”

I looked at Big Mama to get her approval. She nodded her head, so I moved in closer to give my grandfather a hug and kiss.

“I love you too, Papa Manchester,” I said.

“Reggie,” my grandmother said, “if we are not home from the hospital when you get out of school, you and your sisters are to stay at the store until one of us comes home.” Which meant my mother was going to the hospital with them.

****

Mr. Jimmy Porter was one of the clerks who worked in my grandparents’ store in the afternoon.

 We would sometimes stay with him while he ran the store. He was also a good friend of the family and rented one of my grandparents’ houses. We were in safe hands. All day at school, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t get the thought of my grandfather being sick out of my head.

When school was out, I waited for Ranae. Sherrie was at an aunt’s house. Ranae finally met me in front of our school, which was only one block away and around the corner from our house. As we were coming down Jamieson Street, I could see Mr. Jimmy looking from the store doorway. He called out to us to hurry. He said he had a customer, so we ran fast as we could.

When we walked into the store, Mr. Jimmy gave Ranae and me a sandwich and a soda, and then he told us to go outside to eat our sandwiches.

Outside, there was a bench that my grandfather and I built that sat in front of the store.

After a while, I could see our 1955 Chevy coming down Jamieson Street. As our car pulled into the driveway, Ranae and I ran over. We stood there waiting for Big Mama and Madera to get out of the car. I could see that my grandfather was not in the car with them. I really wanted to know what was going on because I’d been worried all day.

When they got out of the car, I ran and kissed my mom and Ranae kissed Big Mama. Then I ran over and hugged and kissed Big Mama while Ranae was kissing Madera. My grandmother said she needed to talk with Ranae and me. She told us to go into the house while she checked on the store.

My mother opened the door and she started to cry.

“Madera, what’s wrong?” I asked.

She said that Papa Manchester is in bad shape and that she was going to eat something and get ready to go back to the hospital. Madera went into the kitchen. Ranae and I sat down. I was waiting for Big Mama to come in from the store and have the talk that she said we would have.

When Big Mama walked in the door, she looked over at Ranae and me and told us to come closer. As we got closer, she began to sit down into her favorite chair.

We came right up to the side of the chair: Ranae was on one side and I was on the other. My mother was standing in the kitchen doorway looking right at us. All the time I was getting this feeling deep down into my stomach. I was thinking, “I don’t want to hear this,” because I knew it would be bad news.

Big Mama said in a soft voice, “Reggie, Ranae, your grandfather is very ill. The doctor at the hospital thinks that he may have the same illness that Daddy James had.”

“Big Mama, what’s that?” I asked.

She said, “Cancer. Reggie, they are going to operate tomorrow morning. Your mother and I will be leaving to go back to the hospital tonight and we will be staying until the morning.”

I asked Big Mama if I could go.

“No,” she said, “You and Ranae will have to stay with Aunt Lu Lu until we can see how your grandfather is doing. Do you understand what I am saying?”

“Yes, Big Mama,” I reluctantly agreed.

Aunt Lu Lu was a friend of the family. She wasn’t really our aunt; we just called her Aunt Lu.Lu. She was always around and she stayed in one of my grandparents’ apartments.

“Reggie,” Big Mama said, “you and Ranae get ready, because Aunt Lu Lu will be over to pick you up soon.”

For the first time in my life, I could feel my whole world tumbling down.

“Lord, what’s going on?” I thought.

Aunt Lu Lu came over and we left with her.

The next day, I was at school again and I still couldn’t think. It was like I wasn’t at school at all.

Aunt Lu Lu picked us up from school that day.

When we got home, my grandmother was sitting in her chair humming a church song. I gave her a hug and a kiss. When I pulled back, she was smiling and still humming the song.

“Big Mama,” I asked, “When will Papa Manchester be coming home?”

She didn’t say anything. She continued to hum.

Then I asked, “Big Mama, can I go see Papa Manchester?”

She stopped humming and said to me in a very soft voice, “Reggie, you are too young to go to the hospital to visit. You are only 10 years old and the hospital has rules about children visiting. You have to be 12 years old. Your grandfather is very sick. The doctor operated today and when they opened your grandfather’s stomach…” She became very quiet for a few seconds.

Then, she repeated herself, “Reggie, when the doctor opened your grandfather’s stomach, they found out that he was full of cancer.

The cancer had spread all through his body. There wasn’t anything the doctor could do but close him back up. I am afraid he won’t be with us long. He is very sick and in a lot of pain.

Then she started to hum again.

I stood there for a few seconds before I went outside and sat on the front porch swing, just swinging back and forth.

I could feel the tears coming down my face and uncontrollable crying just hit me. I couldn’t stop crying. I don’t remember how long I was on the porch crying, but I do remember my grandfather’s cousins John and Harry Manchester coming up onto the porch. They were brothers, a little older than my mother was, but they were always around.

John and Harry would call my grandmother “Cousin Jane” and my grandfather “Cousin Fred”. John came over to where I was sitting, while Harry hollered through the door and said, “Cousin Jane, it’s me Cousin Harry.”

Then he went in.

John put his arm around me and said, “Boy, I will always be here when you need me.”

On his way into the house, he hugged me and said everything is going be okay.

The next few weeks we had company every day, lots of company coming by praying and showing their love by helping out; while my grandfather was still in the hospital.

It was three weeks after my grandfather had entered the hospital. Big Mama called me into her bedroom and I sat down on the bed.

“Reggie,” she said, “Your grandfather is in a better place. He’s with Daddy James in Heaven. He suffered while he was in the hospital and he’s not going to have to suffer anymore. Reggie, we have all cried, now it time for us to rejoice and feel blessed that he was in our lives.”

She continued, “Reggie, your grandfather told me to let you know that he loved you and that he wanted you to make him proud of you. Reggie, you are now the man of the house. He wanted you to have his gold watch.”

Big Mama then went to her dresser drawer, pulled out a case, and gave it to me. I opened the case and inside was the most beautiful watch that I have ever seen.

         It was a 14k solid gold Elgin watch. The back was engraved with the name “SHAWN MANCHESTER”. My middle name was Shawn.

I was named after my grandfather.

My grandmother then took the watch back and said, “When you turn 21, you can have your grandfather’s watch.”

Then she kissed me and gave me a big hug.

A week later, my grandfather was laid to rest. At that time, he had one of the biggest funerals in Flint, Michigan. My grandfather Shawn Fred Manchester was well loved.

I had always told myself and even now, I think to myself that if I live to be half the man my grandfather was, I will have achieved much.

After my grandfather died and my grandmother shared with me that I was the man of the house; which the meaning of was completely different from what I thought the man of the house should be.

I was man of the house in words only.

My grandfather was still the man of the house; if not in body, then in spirit which was always around.