“Did Big Brother get his way?”
“It doesn’t seem like it. Eliza seemed to be pretty convinced that she was in love. Can you imagine that? At fifteen or sixteen years old? She was so young.”
“Doesn’t sound that crazy to me. I knew that I was in love when I was sixteen.” Jack stood up and put his hand on the side of Lizzie’s face giving her a gentle kiss. Crossing the worn wooden floor, he placed his used mug in the sink and started gathering his case files to take back to the station. “If Alston was talking about shame in the first entry, he couldn’t have been too pleased that she wasn’t listening to him.”
“Like I said, it seems like he was reacting out of fear or some sense of social responsibility. I can’t get a bead on him. I’m not sure if he was scared for her or himself. I know he was concerned that others not find out. He hasn’t been crass about Eldridge being black, which surprised me for the period.” Lizzie paused. “That’s his name. Eldridge.”
“Eliza and Eldridge. So, Gramps used his name. That has to give you a hint about it. He didn’t call him something else at least.”
“Who knows? I’d think if he were an out and out racist I would have heard the ‘n-word’ by now.” Lizzie took another bite of her bagel and wiped her mouth with a cotton napkin. “I think I might do a little research today. I want to see what it was like back then. I just don’t know where to start. How on earth do I find out what it was like to date outside your race then?”
“Google is your friend, my dear. It knows all.” Jack picked up his keys and slung the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “Let me know if you find out anything good. You’re meeting Miss Gertrude this afternoon, right? Why don’t we meet up in town for a beer and a sandwich after your visit with her? I’ll treat. We’ll call it date night.” He leaned over to place a kiss on the top of the head and then walked towards the door.
“Sounds good. Meet you at Gill’s? Six o’clock? I’ll be meeting Gran for lunch, and then I’ll just go hang out at her house for a while. Maybe she’s got something else hidden in that attic of hers that would be neat to look through. I mean, she kept the diary from me for all these years. You never know what else she’ll have up there.”
Jack walked out the screened door toward his truck. Just as the door bounced against its wooden frame she heard her husband call out, “Call me at the station if you find a body up there.”
Lizzie crossed her arms and leaned against the back of her chair. She noticed the sun shining brightly through the white kitchen curtains, and Lizzie couldn’t help smilng. Her grandmother had finally won. After years of begging her to take an interest in her family’s history, curiosity had finally gotten hold of her.
***
After a quick shower, Lizzie slipped into a comfy pair of boot-cut jeans and a blue and green knitted sweater with a cowl neckline. Although she was able to dress casually at work, it was nice to wear what she wanted rather than what fit a dress code. Her naturally curly hair just needed a quick towel dry and some gel to keep it in check. Since it was a day off, she skipped the makeup but layered on her favorite necklaces and bangle bracelets. Buckling a leather wrap belt around her waist she stood in front of the full length mirror. This time her reflection showed something more like her and less like a Munchkin from Oz.
“Better,” Lizzie giggled.
Heading downstairs, she grabbed her laptop and settled into her favorite chair in the corner of the sun room. The large cushions were a little less firm than when she purchased the chair a decade ago, and the flowered print had started to fade. Even with its wear, it was still her favorite piece of furniture in the house. The sun room was her favorite place to sit when she had the house to herself. The morning sun streamed through the white eyelet curtains and flooded the room with the brightest light that she had seen in a long time. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed. She had two hours until she needed to meet her grandmother in the park for lunch. It was just enough time to research what life was like for an interracial couple in the 1930s.
Lizzie drank the last of her coffee and started searching the Internet. “Let’s see what you’ve got for me, Google,” she whispered.
History had always been one of her favorite subjects in high school. She couldn’t remember the subject of interracial relationships showing up in her American History class. She had no idea what she would find. As she clicked links for blog posts and history journals, she realized that the past was darker than she thought.
After clicking a series of links, Lizzie discovered a local college’s history department website. “Bingo!” she yelled. Besides documenting a complete list of race-based Jim Crow laws, the website included a time line showing changes in the social history of Georgia. Lizzie ran a finger down the laptop screen looking for entries related to the 1930s.
Lizzie’s stomach sank as she read an entry related to miscegenation that included a definition.
“Miscegenation: the interbreeding of people from two different racial backgrounds.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said into the empty room. She continued reading.
“Starting in colonial times, laws preventing interracial marriages and relationships, or miscegenation, were common across the United States. Once considered something only found in the American South, these laws can be found across the country. They remained in effect in various states until 1967 when the United States Supreme Court ruled them unconstitutional in Loving v. Virginia…”
Halfway down the web page, Lizzie found a link titled, Miscegenation Laws in Georgia. She scanned the list until she found the laws during Eliza’s life.
1926: Colored clergy can marry Negroes only. Other marriages are to be nullified.
1927: White persons may only marry other white persons. All persons with ascertainable traces of Negro blood must marry Negroes only. Penalties include up to two years’ incarceration.
1928: Miscegenation is declared a felony.
Lizzie picked up the diary and looked for the date of the first entry. On the top of the second page she located it: 1934. Looking back to her laptop, she scanned the list for that year’s entry.
1935: It is illegal for a white person to marry anyone other than another white person. Felony conviction requires one to two years imprisonment for both the male and female as well as the performing clergy.
Lizzie needed a break. She sat the laptop on the ottoman in front of her and walked into the kitchen for another cup of coffee. Her mind raced with the implications of Eliza’s relationship with Eldridge. From what the college website said, the relationship would be illegal not only in the state of Georgia but also in other states as well. She couldn’t comprehend living a life during a time where she had to consider the law over her heart. Reaching into the fridge for her carton of vanilla creamer, Lizzie’s eyes landed on a photo of her and Jack. It was a candid shot of the two laughing together when they were in high school. She couldn’t remember who took the photo, but she did remember her feelings that she had for Jack that day. It was the same feeling that she imagined Eliza having when she looked at Eldridge.
Returning to the sun room, Lizzie continued researching the life that her great-aunt would have lived. At the bottom of the web page below the time line, she saw a link titled, “Interviews and Articles.” Faces of young and old sat on the screen before her. Below each photograph were dates and notations that gave hints to their experiences.
Jailed.
Hanged.
Lynched.
As Lizzie read through the social history of the times, she read personal accounts that tied her stomach into knots. Originally she thought that her great grandfather was just concerned about what the neighbors around town may have thought about his sister’s relationship. Now she realized that Eliza’s relationship with Eldridge wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t just illegal. It could have led to a lynching or a murder.
After an hour of research, Lizzie was exhausted. Flipping through the pages of t
he diary, she once again read the words of her great-grandfather after she discovered his sister’s relationship. This time, the emotions weren’t foreign to her. Lizzie found herself worried about Eliza just as Alston did.
“Oh, Gramps. No wonder you were so afraid for your sister.”
Chapter Nine
On the way to the park, Lizzie stopped by Gertrude’s favorite bakery for chicken salad on freshly made croissants. As she walked through town, Lizzie patted her bag to reassure herself that the diary was safe and sound. Within minutes she could see her favorite park come into view. As soon as she crossed the road, she noticed her grandmother sitting on the park bench underneath Lizzie’s favorite tree. Sitting next to Gertrude were Blue, Abi, and Claud.
“Gran, I only brought two sandwiches. You should have told me we were having a party!”
“Oh, we brought our own, dear. In fact, we brought enough for everyone,” Claud said as she patted her picnic basket. “We’ve got finger sandwiches and crudites. There’s a little meat and cheese. I also packed a few small salads. Bread?” Claud held out a bag filled with soft rolls made earlier that morning.
“Miss Claud, you’re fantastic. I think we’d all starve if we didn’t have you, and I truly mean that.” Lizzie gave her a huge squeeze around the neck. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”
“Oh, Lizzie, dear. You’re just a peach. I’m just sharing what I love with the people that I love most. We should move over to the picnic table and start eating before the ham gets cold.”
“You’d think she was feeding an army,” Blue chuckled. “We’re thankful, Claud, but our thighs aren’t going to be tomorrow.”
The ladies gathered their bags and made their way to the picnic table near the side garden. It gave them a perfect view of the park with all the color of the fall flowers and trees. Just beyond it sat the gazebo and roses. Lizzie stood by the table looking across the landscape. Even though she had visited the park only a day before, there was something different about it. She always felt grounded in this space, but today she felt more connected. Maybe it wasn’t the park. Perhaps it was her. She took a deep breath of the clean fall air, and placed her meager lunch offerings in the middle of the pile.
Gertrude smiled as she opened Lizzie’s purchase. “You brought my favorite sandwiches. Thank you dear. It’s wonderful,” she said as she placed a squeeze around her granddaughter’s shoulders. Lizzie noticed how happy her grandmother looked that afternoon. She wondered if she was feeling that same lightness that Lizzie did. It didn’t make sense how one evening together could have made a difference, yet somehow it had. She walked over to the table and took a seat between Abi and Blue.
“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.
Finding Eliza Page 7
