Family

Finding The Man In The Picture Part Two

It happened one evening when my younger brother and I were at my grandparents' home. I was nine or maybe ten at the time. We were sitting on the floor of the living room watching a TV show that was popular back then. I don't remember much about the show, only that the main character was a nurse who was raising a son by herself. Also, she was a negro woman, which is how we would have described her in those days.

When my grandfather passed by and saw what we were watching, he exploded in a fit of anger. He stomped over to the television and twisted the channel knob violently as a further demonstration of his disgust. Then he turned his attention on his two frightened grandsons.

“If you watch THOSE PEOPLE on television, you'll end up JUST LIKE EM!”

His outburst of rage left us stunned and speechless there on the floor. I had never seen my grandfather angry like this. It had never occurred to me that Papaw got angry at all. When I thought of him, I thought of ice cream, rocking chairs on the back porch, silly stories, and his boisterous and contagious laughter. It was a naive and childish way to think, but I was naive and still a child.

My brother and I nodded in submissive agreement, though I don't think either of us understood what he was talking about. I only wanted Papaw to stop being angry with me, and it seemed like a respectful nodding of the head might help matters. I wondered who he was referring to when he said, “Those people.” Someone on the television, obviously. Nurses? Women with children but no husbands? TV people in general?

And then somehow I knew. I knew that he meant negroes, and I was old enough to know that he was wrong. I was old enough to know that this kind of thinking was very bad.

Finding the Man in the Picture Part One

There is a framed picture hanging on a wall in my parent's home. This picture fascinates me. When I visit I often find myself pausing to stare at the image of a handsome and striking young man who sits with his wife and their two-year-old daughter. His face doesn't reveal much emotion, but something behind his eyes and in his story draws me to him.

The little girl is my mother, and some part of me understands that the young man is my grandfather. But this is not the man I knew as Papaw. His face is not old and sagging and marked with spots and deep lines, as I remember it. The face in the picture has a chiseled jaw line, prominent cheek bones, and smooth, brown skin. His lips are full, soft, and even sensual. His hair is black as coal and looks as though it received a lot of attention and was a source of considerable pride. The Native American woman who made a surprise appearance in our family tree a few generations back certainly left her mark on his face.

In the picture my grandfather is wearing a three-piece suit with a white shirt and tie. I never knew him to dress like that. By the time I came along he wore wore Coveralls all the time. I can hardly remember him wearing anything else. Obviously this was my grandfather in a dapper moment, dressing his best for a family photo. A closer look at the picture reveals the truth about him. An air pressure gauge sticks up prominently from the breast pocket of his fancy suit. The hand casually draped across his thigh had already begun the thickening process that would eventually produce the strongest pair of hands I ever saw.

This was not a man accustomed to suits and ties. This was a man who needed a tire gauge at the ready. This was a man who knew a day's work. Spotting the gauge there in his pocket made me smile and was comforting to me for some reason. Yes, that's the man I remember so fondly. I knew he was in there somewhere.

Monty Python

 
There is an important rite of passage happening at our house tonight. My middle daughter is going to watch "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" for the first time. There's some edgy stuff in this movie, but she'll be okay.
 
We'll both be a little uncomfortable when Sir Galahad encounters the beautiful women in the castle Anthrax, but we'll look at each other, roll our eyes, and be fine. My oldest daughter is beside herself with glee, remembering the night I first watched it with her.
 

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