GRANDPA GONE-EE?
MEMORIES OF ANGIOLA 1950’S
There is a story in our family about Grandpa Henry who was chosen to replace the aging Shaman of the Chickasaw Tribe back in Wewoka Oklahoma. Grandpa did not want the job and wheedled his way out of it by promising his oldest son Uncle Les would be more suited for the position as Uncle Les had the ‘gift’ and was born with a veil over his face. The old Shaman agreed to the deal. Well when Unc become of age he wanted nothing to do with his father’s promise and up and joined the Army to get away from there. The old Shaman now was in his last days and mad as hell so he cursed Grandpa Henry and his offspring.
Soon after Aunt Dorothy suffered a strange illness out of nowhere that caused her Left Leg to remain stiff as a board for the remainder of her life. Grandpa himself became so ill they did not think he would pull through but eventually he did. He told of a little elf-demon dancing around and around his bed that no one else could see. Many calamities befell the family and is the main reason they migrated to California.
-The Loman Curse
Now many may think this is all Superstition but not me…
I had a Jamaican friend who I met in college and we would share stories as her family practiced Voodoo and Hoodoo she knew all about Shamans.
“People make the mistake of thinking if you don’t believe in it ‘it’ can’t hurt you…neva believe that sistah. Whole lot of dem white folks that came to our country believed that and were never seen or heard from again.” Jalissa winked.
Grandpa Henry was a Sharp Shooter in WWI they say he could shoot the eye out of a snake at 100 paces. Uncle Louis and Uncle Dude could attest to that because after being told not to they snuck off to the woods and Grandpa had to go look for them. There were Bears and all kind of wild animals in there and other things too. When he spotted the two he told them to freeze and raised his shotgun. They knew they had done wrong and were terrified he was going to shoot them for disobeying.
A shot rang out and when they looked behind them they saw the snake with a hole through its head.
“You boys get on home Lucy is worried about you.”
Grandma Lucy would tell how Grandpa Henry was a very handsome man in his younger days all the ladies fancied him but she was the one who won his heart. He would just smile. To us kids he was a quiet giant who wore overalls and fed us Mexican Ginger Bread his favorite. We would all sit beside him lined up like little brown pigeons on the bench he’d built beside their cabin…and there we would stay until he had to go somewhere. We loved us some Grandpa Henry!
I still love that Mexican Pastry and the first bite takes me right back to Angiola days and my Grandpa Henry.
There came a time when Grandpa Henry had to go away and we were sad and missed him terribly. It was during that time when Mama rushed from the fields to talk to Grandma Lucy and she was crying it scared me because I had never seen my Mama cry. She told us to stay outside and went into the cabin with Grandma Lucy. We were terrified and knew something bad had happened we all started crying at the same time.
When I was much older I learned that Grandpa Henry was forced to go into Springville Sanitarium to be treated for Tuberculosis and during the 1950’s they would even round up Migrant Workers from the camps to be forcefully ‘quarantined’ and treated. Grandpa Henry was in there a long time and my hot-head Uncles threatened to go there and bust him out but Grandma Lucy talked them out of it.
I learned that Grandpa Henry did Not have Tuberculosis and the Treatment most likely killed him. I saw his death certificate that states ‘Natural Causes’….like Hell they Murdered him. I was So Angry that he was taken from us and we were robbed of all those years he was only sixty years old.
Later my Mama shared with me, “I was at the end of my row of cotton getting ready to weigh in when I saw these men drive up in a police car...they got out and talked to the foreman who pointed in my direction. I started crying and could not stop nobody had to tell me my daddy was gone.” Mama’s eyes welled up but no tears spilled.
At Grandpa Henry’s funeral I held my little brother’s hand he asked, “Grandpa Henry Gone-ee?”
He had no concept of death another older cousin piped up, “Him went to Heaven.”
“Grandpa Henry gone home.” I whispered to no one in particular.
Years later I made a special trip to Springville to see the place that hastened Grandpa Henry’s departure from this planet. I felt a strange essence there and my anger had morphed into resentment that I still somehow harbor although I know it’s not healthy.
And I wonder if that Shaman’s Curse got Grandpa in the end.
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