The Baby came in the Black Bag

Happy 50ieth, James
You had the same patch of gray as a newborn.

1963, what a year!

In 1962, we had moved from the first home I remember to my Aunt's and from there to my grandmother's and then again just a door away to the other side of a double shotgun apartment we shared with grandma. When the new year arrived we were settle, as settle as we would be for the next few years. The moving had interrupted my schooling and I was finally back in school repeating first grade. School was comforting for me.

My mother usually helped me off to school. On the morning of March 18 1963, mama was in pain. She was in labor with her fourth child. Mama combed my hair and grandma made grits for breakfast and told me when I returned home from school, I would have a new baby brother or sister. What did mama's pain have to do with a baby?

I can remember being sad and I burst into tears in Mrs Woodward class. She assured me that everything would be okay. I walked home excited to see my new sibling. The only problem was that the baby had not arrived.

Sarah Guice, the midwife for the community was attending my mother but there was a problem, the baby was not position correctly for delivery. The family was busy discussing getting medical attention for my mother and the conversation got ugly. My father had abandoned the family and they felt it wasn't their responsibility to take care of Albert's problems.

Someone found my daddy and a doctor was summoned. I was busy peeping through keyholes and windows trying to understand what I didn't understand. I saw the doctor come up the steps with the black bag and saw him standing over my mother's bed. Soon after the doctor's arrival, which could have been just minutes or hours, I heard the cry of a baby. I had a moment of revelation, babies came in black bags.