Read Finding Eliza Online

Authors: Stephanie Pitcher Fishman

Tags: #christian fiction, #georgia history, #interracial romance, #lynching in america, #southern fiction, #genealogy, #family history

Finding Eliza (10 page)

BOOK: Finding Eliza
11.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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“So,” Blue interjected, “how far did you read in the diary last night?” Always ready to cut to the chase, she got the group focused on the task at hand. “Visiting with you old fogies is nice, but I want to hear that we successfully hooked the kid with the diary.”

“Oh, you definitely did that,” said Lizzie. “I read through at least ten or fifteen entries last night. I had a hard time not moving forward too quickly. I understand why you said to take it one at a time. Sometimes I had to read the entries twice just to keep some of the details straight in my mind. The emotions were so easy to get lost in.”

“That is definitely true, dear. It was a difficult journey for you, I suspect,” added Abi. “Where did you stop?”

“Alston had just found the Eliza and Eldridge in the barn. His sister was falling apart in his arms. I’m so tempted to ditch the lot of you so that I can catch up on the story!” Lizzie smiled and leaned to bump shoulders with Blue.

“I was a little surprised that you didn’t call me this morning to discuss it. I wondered for a little while if you weren’t as interested as I thought,” said Gertrude.

“That’s definitely not the case. In fact, I don’t want to hear any comments from the peanut gallery, but I actually did a little research this morning online to find out what it may have been like for Eliza and her friend.”

Each lady sitting at the table let out a gasp of surprise.

“I knew it! We got her!” yelled Blue as a curled hand shot in the air proclaiming victory. The group of friends broke into laughter as she wiggled and danced in her seat to carry the point home.

“It was just a little bit of research, so don’t get too excited. I was curious and needed some history to put it into perspective. I couldn’t tell if Alston was angry at his sister or scared for her. I needed to find out what could have scared him.” Lizzie looked down at her plate and played with her napkin. “I have a tough question for you, Gran.”

“Tough questions bring tough answers, but I’m ready,” said Gertrude.

“What was your family’s idea of race, Gran? I know how you raised me, but how did your father raise you? How did his father raise him?”

“You’re asking if they were racist. Just call it like it is,” said Blue as she dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

“Well, dear, it was a different time. Keep in mind that life wasn’t like today. This was before the Civil Rights Movement. Jim Crow laws were still in effect down here. We had separate lunch counters and swimming beaches when I was growing up. We weren’t allowed to go to school with each other, so it wasn’t like we were encouraged to be friends. However, your great-grandparents wouldn’t let me get away with using derogatory terms like I wouldn’t you. My daddy was friends with the janitor who was a colored man. That’s the word we used then. Colored.”

“It was considered a polite word choice. Can you believe it?” asked Abi.

Claud nodded and said, “Looking back it wasn’t polite at all, but it was better than the alternatives.”

“Were you allowed to have friends of color then, Gran?” Lizzie reached across the table for the bottle of lemonade.

“Well, yes and no. Like I said, we weren’t in school together. I lived in town because my parents wanted to raise me away from the farm. Location alone meant that I didn’t have many children around me that weren’t, well,” she paused. “There weren’t many children around my home that weren’t white.”

“Don’t try to be safe and quiet about it, Gertrude,” spoke Blue. “It wasn’t a nice period in time. You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. “Just tell it like it is without all this sugar. You can’t make it sound pretty no matter how hard you try.”

“You’re right, Blue. I know you’re right.” She took a deep breath and smoothed the top of her pants with her hands, composing herself before moving on. “In that case, no, I wasn’t allowed to make friends with children who weren’t white. I want you to understand the whole picture though. My father wouldn’t allow me to do anything rude or impolite to anyone, period. He had a favorite saying: ‘Everyone has a name.’ That was his motivation for everything. If my parents found me to be mean or naughty to someone, he would ask me for the person’s name. It was an immediate reminder for me to realize this was a human being that I was speaking to or about. I had to recognize their worth. Do you understand?”

“I’m beginning to, I think,” said Lizzie, though she was not sure that she did.

“Look at the lesson. Only things in this world of value have names, you see. It was a very subtle way for my father to remind me to see the value in that person. It was also a way to keep me from using the terms that others used in that time. Those words were not tolerated in my home. I believe that he was trying to make better choices for me in that way.”

Abi patted Gertrude’s hand. “Your grandmother wanted to befriend everyone. It didn’t matter to her one way or another which way God colored them before He placed them on this ground.”

Gertrude smiled at her friend. “When I was about six or so, I met a little girl that lived down the road from my grandfather’s farm. She and I were about the same age, or from what I can remember. My Daddy grabbed me up and brought me inside. He never said that I couldn’t play with her, but he didn’t take me back to the farm for a while. When I was older I just assumed it was because we were different. Your great-grandfather was a quiet man when it came to this area, so it wasn’t something we talked about.” Gertrude fought against the tears that were welling up in her eyes. “When your father was growing up, I thought that I was going to be different. I wasn’t going to let some silly rule stop him from playing with any child he wanted. My father and I never had words over it, but I think I held a chip on my shoulder against him for it.”

“You never asked him about it?”

“No, but after reading his diary I believe the way that he brought me up was a direct response to what he experienced with Eliza. I just didn’t understand it then.” Gertrude dabbed her eyes with her napkin before placing it onto her plate.

“He did seem terribly afraid in his diary. Why was that?” asked Lizzie.

“It was such an ugly time, Lizzie.” whispered Claud. “Such an ugly time. I was still living in Florida then. Remember I grew up there. It just felt so dark and ugly when you’d see people like the KKK holding rallies and parades. The hatred was out in the open for all to see. Such ugliness.”

Claud’s words trailed off getting softer as she finished speaking. Her eyes looked across the park as her memories took her back to a past time. Lizzie realized that each women sitting at the picnic table had her own stories to tell. She wondered how many were filled with fear like Alston’s.

Lizzie hesitated before speaking. “Did we have family in the KKK, Gran?”

“To my knowledge, we did not. I know of a few boys from high school that were in the Klan. We always knew about it but couldn’t come to terms with why they did it. It didn’t seem like their nature. Do you remember that?” Gertrude looked toward Abi and Blue for input.

“There was the Cranston boy,” said Abi. She placed her sandwich back on her plate and wiped her mouth. After taking a sip of lemonade she continued. “He was in it, but I suspect that it was under duress. Remember, he got out of town as quick as he could and away from that mean daddy of his. I think he joined the service, didn’t he?”

“Yep. Lost him in Korea,” Blue confirmed.

“We also had Billy Conrad. You remember him, don’t you? He was sweet on our Blue,” added Abi again with a smile.

“Well, why wouldn’t he be?” Blue smoothed her hair with her right hand while her left hand landed on her hip for a little wiggle. “I am beautiful after all.”

“Humble, too. Don’t forget that,” snickered Gertrude.

Lizzie noticed a change come across Blue’s face. She could feel the mood of the group change as the laughter quieted. Her happy friend became solemn in a way that Lizzie had never seen before.

“Billy Conrad was one of the sweetest boys that I knew,” Blue said. “We lost him to his daddy.” She quietly sat down and lowered her eyes as if to pray. As Blue’s emotions changed so did that of the others.

Gertrude interrupted her friend. “Lizzie, dear, what Blue means is that Billy took his own life. It was such a great shock to us all,” she said as she lowered her eyes. “His daddy had taken him to a lynching, and the boy just couldn’t handle what he saw.”

The word hit Lizzie in the heart.
Lynching.
The stories she read earlier that day came flooding back into her mind. She could picture the images on the college website. Broken and beaten bodies flooded her mind. She didn’t know what to say. She was horrified at the experience that was so closely connected to her family while feeling heartbroken for Blue at the same time.

“His daddy was responsible,” Blue said with anger. “I will never agree that Billy did anything to harm himself or take his life. The boy was too young. That man caused it. That man caused Billy’s death. He should have been held responsible.”

Lizzie couldn’t remember the last time that she saw Blue angry or upset. Her grumpiness was typically reserved for those who irritated her in small ways such as the bag boy at the Piggly Wiggly who couldn’t remember to put her eggs in a separate bag. Lizzie had never seen Blue show pain like this. She got up from the bench and stood behind Blue. She wasn’t sure how to mend the hurt, but Lizzie couldn’t stop herself from trying. As her head fell on Blue’s shoulder, she whispered, “I love you.”

Blue dotted her eyes with the white handkerchief edged with a delicate flower motif that she always carried in her purse. She patted Lizzie’s arm and gave her a squeeze back as best she could from the awkward angle. Without her normal wit, the aged woman seemed more like a young, sad girl who could only nod and return a hug without words. The years may have passed, but the hurt that Blue felt was still written on her face.

“I didn’t realize that this was something that affected everyone on such a personal level,” said Lizzie. “I only thought about how it affected Eliza’s life. I didn’t realize we’d be digging up scars for y’all, too.”

“We all have scars, dear. You couldn’t grow up during that time and not get burned a little. Just like today, the world had a lot of evil in it when we were growing up. I pray God has a lot of mercy because people definitely don’t have it for each other.” Abi spoke with such sadness in her eyes that Lizzie could feel that somewhere under her aged exterior she had a story as well.

“Gran, is that what your father worried about? Was he scared of the KKK?” Lizzie was shocked that she was asking the question. Two days before, the idea that her family could be involved in a situation with the KKK seemed so foreign to her. She sat stiff in her seat, preparing herself for her grandmother’s answer.

“With that we’ve gotten to where we all knew the conversation was going to end up eventually,” sighed Abi.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Abi. I didn’t mean to ruin everyone’s mood,” Lizzie said.

“Dear, you had to ask the question. We knew it was coming,” Abi replied.

Taking another slow breath, Gertrude answered the question. “Yes. He was afraid of them. My father writes more in depth about it later in the diary, so I don’t want to ruin the story for you. You are on the right path, unfortunately.” Gertrude walked over to where Lizzie was sitting with Blue. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. You said the last thing you learned about in the diary was that he confronted his sister, right? You’ve got quite a ways to go before you get into some of the heavier topics.”

“There are heavier topics?” Lizzie said with an uncomfortable laugh.

“Oh child, just you wait,” Blue said, having recovered from the earlier memories of Billy Conrad.

Lizzie grinned, happy to see her friend back to herself. “I want to know more about your grandparents. Do you know how they reacted to their daughter’s relationship with Eldridge? The diary didn’t seem to mention it.”

“I’m not sure. Remember, I learned about it from the same place you did. The diary is all I have to draw on since Daddy didn’t discuss it.” Gertrude stood and began gathering up the leftovers from the meal.

“How do we find out more about it then?” Lizzie reached around her grandmother to gather the used plates and cups from the table.

“What did you do this morning when you needed more information?” asked Claud.

“I looked online.” Lizzie saw the eyes of her friends light up. “No, I researched. I guess I’ll just have to do a little more of that, now won’t I?” Lizzie teased. She knew that the ladies were enjoying their time with her, and she was giving them the show that they wanted. “Don’t you ladies get too excited, but if I wanted to do some real research beyond Google, would someone be able to help me?”

Laughter erupted around the table catching the attention of a group of young mothers pushing designer strollers around the walking path nearby. Lizzie couldn’t tell if they were annoyed or entertained by the rag-tag group before them.

“Honey, you’ve come to the right place!” Abi grinned, thrilled to see that their plan was working. The diary had gotten Lizzie’s attention just as planned.

Lizzie looked across the table. She was amazed at how the women in front of her worked together like a well-oiled machine, gathering odds and ends as they shared the details of their lives. She realized how much she missed them. These ladies were both friends and family to her. A quiet smile came over her face as she continued to watch how each played a role in the conversation.

BOOK: Finding Eliza
11.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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