getting grounded meant I wasn’t allowed out. It didn’t necessarily mean that no one was allowed in, though I wasn’t prepared to verify this loophole with my mother. So the drainpipe at the side of the porch combined with Jim’s agility ensured long afternoons of surreptitious company.
And when Jim couldn’t sneak over, Dora Lee made an interesting companion. It didn’t take her very long to settle down with us. After all, she’d been in the house more than twenty years longer than we had. I didn’t think that Ma’d ever get used to having her around, but she proved me wrong. She didn’t find it any easier to have a servant, for that’s what Dora Lee was when you got right down to it. She just convinced herself and anyone else within earshot that they were partners in the house. She made sure, she told us, that there wasn’t anything she’d ask Dora Lee to do that she wouldn’t do herself. Dora Lee took Ma’s peculiar approach to employment in her stride, putting it down to the vagaries of white folks.
Once I overcame my impolite curiosity, Dora Lee and I became comfortable in our days together. She was one of the warmest people I’d ever run across. After so many years spent taking care of the old lady she was tickled pink to have a teenager to spoil. I wasn’t one to stand in the way of her ambition, so every afternoon except Monday I let her tempt me with her baked indulgences. Monday was wash day at our house, as in the rest of Savannah and indeed the entire Southern United States, and I was willing to forego my afternoon snack for the sake of clean underpants. A few more washdays during the week wouldn’t have hurt. Dora Lee’s cookies were making their mark on my waistline despite my daily excursions to school.
For me, afternoons with Dora Lee weren’t really about her snacks, but the talks that flavored them. Her accent was even more pronounced than Jim’s and for a long time I settled for the gist of her comments rather than their particulars. Even so, I learned as much about Southern ways from her as I did by living there. No one talked much about the way that black people lived in Georgia. All I knew from Jim was that Negroes weren’t allowed in most restaurants and could only ride in taxis marked “For Colored”. They couldn’t try on clothes before they bought them because our white neighbors wouldn’t wear anything that had touched a Negro’s body. Dora Lee even had to pin a handkerchief to her head before trying on a hat.
I chafed at the idea of that respectable lady having to demean herself to buy clothes.
‘Oh, now, miss, don’t you go thinking that just because we can’t buy hats at your stores that we don’t get our hats! No, we have our own stores.’
‘You do?’
‘Well of course we do. And our own banks, newspapers, churches and drugstore counters, just like you.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘No miss, you wouldn’t. The fact is, we’ve been building up our own cities right under white folks’ noses. Y’all won’t let us into your dance halls and restaurants so we’ve got our own. We have our doctors and nurses–’
‘Really?’
‘Well of course! Who do you think births our babies and takes care of us when we need medicine?’
I didn’t tell her that I’d assumed they just got along as best they could with old–timey remedies. ‘But how’d they get trained when they can’t go to college?’
‘You mean they can’t go to your colleges. You ever heard of Spelman?’
‘No, I don’t believe so.’
‘It’s right over in Atlanta. Been around since the last century. It’s a college for colored girls. Ever hear of Georgia State College?’
‘No, ma’am.’ I felt like an idiot.
‘It’s over in Thunderbolt and the oldest public college for Negroes in the country. Honey, you say you want to know all about us. If that’s true, you’ve got to open your eyes and look around.’
‘But why doesn’t everyone just vote to change the laws so you
And when Jim couldn’t sneak over, Dora Lee made an interesting companion. It didn’t take her very long to settle down with us. After all, she’d been in the house more than twenty years longer than we had. I didn’t think that Ma’d ever get used to having her around, but she proved me wrong. She didn’t find it any easier to have a servant, for that’s what Dora Lee was when you got right down to it. She just convinced herself and anyone else within earshot that they were partners in the house. She made sure, she told us, that there wasn’t anything she’d ask Dora Lee to do that she wouldn’t do herself. Dora Lee took Ma’s peculiar approach to employment in her stride, putting it down to the vagaries of white folks.
Once I overcame my impolite curiosity, Dora Lee and I became comfortable in our days together. She was one of the warmest people I’d ever run across. After so many years spent taking care of the old lady she was tickled pink to have a teenager to spoil. I wasn’t one to stand in the way of her ambition, so every afternoon except Monday I let her tempt me with her baked indulgences. Monday was wash day at our house, as in the rest of Savannah and indeed the entire Southern United States, and I was willing to forego my afternoon snack for the sake of clean underpants. A few more washdays during the week wouldn’t have hurt. Dora Lee’s cookies were making their mark on my waistline despite my daily excursions to school.
For me, afternoons with Dora Lee weren’t really about her snacks, but the talks that flavored them. Her accent was even more pronounced than Jim’s and for a long time I settled for the gist of her comments rather than their particulars. Even so, I learned as much about Southern ways from her as I did by living there. No one talked much about the way that black people lived in Georgia. All I knew from Jim was that Negroes weren’t allowed in most restaurants and could only ride in taxis marked “For Colored”. They couldn’t try on clothes before they bought them because our white neighbors wouldn’t wear anything that had touched a Negro’s body. Dora Lee even had to pin a handkerchief to her head before trying on a hat.
I chafed at the idea of that respectable lady having to demean herself to buy clothes.
‘Oh, now, miss, don’t you go thinking that just because we can’t buy hats at your stores that we don’t get our hats! No, we have our own stores.’
‘You do?’
‘Well of course we do. And our own banks, newspapers, churches and drugstore counters, just like you.’
‘I had no idea.’
‘No miss, you wouldn’t. The fact is, we’ve been building up our own cities right under white folks’ noses. Y’all won’t let us into your dance halls and restaurants so we’ve got our own. We have our doctors and nurses–’
‘Really?’
‘Well of course! Who do you think births our babies and takes care of us when we need medicine?’
I didn’t tell her that I’d assumed they just got along as best they could with old–timey remedies. ‘But how’d they get trained when they can’t go to college?’
‘You mean they can’t go to your colleges. You ever heard of Spelman?’
‘No, I don’t believe so.’
‘It’s right over in Atlanta. Been around since the last century. It’s a college for colored girls. Ever hear of Georgia State College?’
‘No, ma’am.’ I felt like an idiot.
‘It’s over in Thunderbolt and the oldest public college for Negroes in the country. Honey, you say you want to know all about us. If that’s true, you’ve got to open your eyes and look around.’
‘But why doesn’t everyone just vote to change the laws so you
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