I celebrated my 81st birthday on September 21, 2020, and am truly blessed to be here. I truly believe I am not the only person in the world with this unusual life, but I want the outside world to know of my Phoebes, so enjoy snippets of my life as I recall these memoirs.
My Beginning
In 1939, Black women were not allowed to have babies in hospitals, so I was born at a home re-built into a maternity ward for mothers of color in the Charlotte area of North Carolina. My first Phoebe was my mother (by default!), who was 18 years old and a senior in high school. She was known as “T”, and marched down the aisle with her class, pregnant with me, and I was born three months later. While T was at this house delivering me, she met another woman, who had also just given birth to a baby girl and had nowhere to go. My grandmother met with the young lady, while visiting my mother, and she came up with a plan to help the new mothers.
The Plan Since both of the young mothers needed somewhere to stay — my grandmother told my mother she did not have time for another baby, because she already had two younger daughters at home — the plan was to ship me and the other new mom and her baby to a cousin’s home in Salisbury, North Carolina, where I would be reared by the cousin and her husband. This cousin was named Ola and would eventually become known to me as Mom. Ola is my second Phoebe.
Ola and her husband, Grover, did not have any children, so now they have me and this teenage mother and her new baby living under their roof. The “plan” was for the teenage mom to get a job to support herself and her new baby and help Ola take care of me. So, she did get a job at the hospital, and Ola would take care of her baby and me while she was at work. However, that “plan” did not last long, because the teenage mom would go to work in the afternoon and would not come home until early morning. This meant that both babies were left with Ola all day, and Grover did not like that; it was not part of the “plan.” He felt that Ola was being taken advantage of, so he told Ola to call my grandmother in Charlotte to let her know the other child’s mother was not keeping her part of the deal to help care for me. When they approached the young mother about not doing her part, she let them know she would leave their home and move to New York with her baby.
Ola called my grandmother in Charlotte to inform her of the change. My grandmother then asked Ola, “Do you want this baby?” She was talking about me, and Ola said she wanted me but had to make sure Grover was okay with it. Ola checked with him, and he said, “Yes, if you’re okay with it.” They were both okay with it, and I became their child—no adoption agency. No paperwork. Over the years, they would take me back to Charlotte to visit the other relatives; however, I was too young to put all the pieces together and figure out who my real mother was.
No Looking Back
When I was eight years old, my birth mother T called me once, and she began the call by saying, “I am your mother, and I want you to come and live with my husband and me.” She also told me that Grover was not my real father, and Ola was not my real mother. She also informed me that Ola and Grover were not educated and only went as far as the fourth grade. This conversation was upsetting, and I hung up on her and told my parents what happened. They dealt with it, and I never heard from her again.
It’s Official
While Ola may have only had a fourth-grade education, she was smart enough to see to it that I went around the corner to her sister-in-law’s house with my own books to learn to read and learn my numbers, and Grover taught me how to count change and dollar bills.
When I was 10 years old, Ola became sick, and the doctors sent her home to die. I was raised in a Methodist church, and I kept my mother in prayer, and she lived. However, Dad got sick from diabetes and, not listening to the doctors, developed other ailments, which eventually led to him dying from a heart attack in one of his cabs. Upon his death, he left Ola a cab company with 11 cars, one gas station, two rental duplexes, one family home, one family car, and a safe. This was not bad for a man with less than a fourth-grade education!
Now it is just mom and me, and five years later, at the age of 15, I became pregnant with my first child. Ola worked the entire summer of 1955 to help pay for my doctor and hospital visits. (Of course, I was told by the father that he was not the father.) I had my daughter at the age of 16 on September 18, 1955. It was not until then that I had my name officially changed, and it only cost $1.50. I wanted to return to school after having my baby, but I was told by my mother I had to stay home to take care of my baby. I stayed home until my baby was ten months old, and our neighbors wanted to adopt my child, but my mother and I told them, “no.”
Another Plan I had a plan to go to New Jersey to work during the summer, which I did. Mom took care of my daughter, and I left North Carolina the summer of 1956 and stayed with a good friend in New Jersey for a short stint before getting my first job taking care of a Rabbi’s three kids. The Rabbi and his wife were very impressed with me and told me I needed a better job than taking care of children and housework. I replied, “I will try any job that you think I can do.” His wife realized I was good with people, and the next day, the Rabbi took me to a dry cleaner, and I was hired on the spot as a retail receiving clerk, making $1.50 per hour and working 40 hours/week. I sent most of my money back to North Carolina to help Ola with caring for my daughter.
It was during the summer of 1956 that I met my first love. He was a singer, and I was head over heels for him. He courted me from June until September, and we got engaged in December 1956. Since I was only 17, I had to get permission from my mother to get married. She did not think I was ready for marriage, so she took over two weeks to sign the paper to give me her permission. We got married in December 1956 with a real outside wedding. She did not think this was a good idea!
Great job, Faulty Marriage
Being married did not stop me from moving up in the world of employment, though. My husband worked in New York, but we lived in Englewood, New Jersey. He wanted to move closer to his job, and my boss did not want me to leave. However, my boss found me a job in Brooklyn, and I took it. My job, employment, and being independent was great. But, boy, was my mother right about marriage. My marriage was faulty!
We had three boys and one girl before I realized my husband was not going to grow up. He could not keep a job; he cheated a lot, stayed away for weeks and months at a time, and did drugs. However, my next set of Phoebes stepped in to help me with the kids, so I could continue working. These Phoebes were my husband’s sisters. Since I was an only child, and he came from a big family, they welcomed me with open arms. They were very helpful to me and were more like sisters than in-laws, and we remained close until their passing.
The Sum of It All
I have been blessed all the days of my 81 years of life. From my mother T and grandmother to Ola to the Rabbi’s wife and to my sisters-in-law, I have wanted for nothing. I am thankful that my birth mother did not abort me and that serendipity landed me in a birthing house where my birth grandmother came up with a “plan” to send me to Ola’s home. Ola loved me and taught me everything I knew to survive. She was my rock and helped me raise my first child. She also taught me to read and how to treat others, which prepared me for my life in New Jersey, where I met the good Rabbi and his wife who saw potential in me and pushed me to be better. I’m also thankful for my husband, who is now deceased. I met my fabulous sisters-in-law (Doris, Ruby, Elizabeth, Diane, Loretta, Lillian) who love me from the time they met me and continued loving me after I divorced their brother. We remained “sisters” until each of them died. Now, I still am a huge part of the family and one of the elders. All my nieces and nephews affectionately call me Aunt Barbara.
My Phoebes taught me to love myself first and then follow with love for others. Help others with whatever you have to offer, and your needs will be fulfilled.
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