Analisa
This has been a week of death, Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson and Adam L. Fulwood. Yeah I know you can easily identify the first three, but who was Adam L. Fulwood? He was my 91 year old uncle, the last of my deceased father’s siblings. No particular reason for you to know this tidbit of information because you didn’t know him and honestly neither did I besides the fact that he was my Dad's brother. I never had a real conversation with him or shared a meal. Yet his death was a little heartbreaking because the last link to that generation is gone. Early yesterday morning before I learned of his death I was searching Facebook for possible relatives in my area that I didn’t know. Getting older can give you the desire to reconnect and I have always wanted to know the history of our family. Later in the day between the death of Farrah and Michael I learned of my uncle's passing when I found my last name in the Obituary section of the paper. I have few details on my father’s family. I know my Grandfather was a street preacher and how he was so respected that in the 30's rural south that he was called Mister. A sure sign of respect when other black men of his day were commonly called boy. One day the Sheriff came to his door to collect one of his sons who was a suspect in a very serious crime. My grandfather turned the sheriff away empty handed (and from what I was told) a little afraid. From what I know about my father side, he should have been. Or there was the time my stepsister’s husband hit her when they were visiting my father. My Dad said, “Take that outside”. When the husband finished his attack he walked to my dad’s refrigerator, got a cold beer and sat down in the living room to enjoy this beverage he did not buy or ask for. My dad calmly got up from his chair walked to his bedroom returning a few moments later gun in hand. Without a word he shot the husband put the gun on the table and sat down to wait for the police and ambulance. The husband lived. No charges filed. No time served. Here is the kicker, everyone knew it was taking the beer that got him shot. I know that being argumentive is a trait on my father’s side. As on older cousin put it this way at my father’s funeral. "Everybody knows a Fulwood will argue with a street lamp". Yep that’s us. I wish I had more stories to tell of my Dad and his siblings, but I know so little. Yet my father and his brothers and sisters birthed, soldiers, actors, musicians, policemen, playwrights and left so many contributors to this nation they can not all be listed. We can all quote something from Michael Jackson’s history but what about our own family? What about your family legacy? Dig deep. Find that senior relative and mine the gold of your history before it’s gone forever. Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic --W.H. Auden
2 Responses
  1. There is so much about my kin I do not know - I guess that's why I create histories with my stories and novels . . .

    I laughed at your interpretation of the photo - that very well could have been my Maw Maw! :)


  2. I lost my brother in 1994 and that I carry around with me every day ... he was only 32...