Remembering Belinda (Lynn)

Posted on August 12, 2017 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

(In memory of Belinda E. Fanning, August 1952 to August 2017)

A good friend

was laid to rest,

one who could

make you laugh

until your sides

split open,

one who could

play-the-dozens

until it drew a

crowd of

laughing witnesses,

one who nicknamed

“Yellow Biscuit,”

and

whose father

nicknamed

“Mosquito,”

one who my late Drew

loved and always

razzed,

DELIBERATELY.

Her laughter was

never muffled,

but

contagious and

deliberate

and natural.

To this

day,

I don’t trust

any

Black person

so prim and proper

that they suppress

their laughter.

As Drew used to say,

“If they don’t feel

better

after

having been around Lynn,

if they don’t like Lynn,

then something’s

wrong with them.”

I’m so glad I got

to tell her

over and over

again that he

was right.

Still taking some time away from blogging for a while…So, you are welcome to read my older blogs until I return later (trust, there is some good stuff in my archives at my blog)…I have to get my dissertation finished, and blogging and responding to every little detail is not on the agenda…In the meantime, stay focused, and stay woke, and for God’s sake don’t fall for the easy answers because the news media is full of “easy answers.” Do your research. Think for yourself. Peace and Blessings. I will see you when I see you. — Leslye Joy Allen

This blog was written by Leslye Joy Allen and is protected by U. S. Copyright Law and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Any partial or total reference to this or any blog authored by Leslye Joy Allen, or any total or partial excerpt of this or any blog by Leslye Joy Allen must contain a direct reference to this hyperlink: https://leslyejoyallen.com with Leslye Joy Allen clearly stated as the author. All Rights Reserved.

Mama’s “Drew Dinner”

Posted on October 12, 2015 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

by Leslye Joy Allen

Whenever I arrived home and was greeted by very particular smells coming from our kitchen, I knew Drew had swung by my Mama’s house and picked up what she knew was his favorite meal. On many occasions, she just called him and told him to come pick it up. My Mama, the late Syble Wilson Allen-Wms., named this meal “The Drew Dinner” back in the mid-1980s. She enjoyed the way he would often show up. “What are you cooking?,” he asked. “Your favorite,” she said.

So on Tuesday, 13 October 2015, on what would have been his 59th birthday, I am eating “his dinner” in his honor so designated by my Mama. Gone now for twenty-two years, he was mercurial, occasionally difficult, yet sweet in ways that many people missed, artistically talented, and physically gorgeous. He was devoted to me and routinely defended my honor. And unlike so many other men who were enamored with their “idea” of me, he loved me exactly as I am. He meant so much to me for so many reasons, and for so many other reasons that he and I promised we would never, ever share with anyone (and we/I have kept that promise).

I miss him and Mama. I still remember when the two of them occasionally debated about me. Two dominant personalities, both of them wanted the final say-so on whatever I was doing or planning to do; and neither of them ever got the final say-so. They would debate to a draw and then I would do what I wanted to do. They would laugh and shrug their shoulders. And even when the debates turned into heated arguments, those occasional dramas never interfered with one of my late Mama’s favorite past-times: cooking his favorite dinner.

I still remember times when I would hang up the phone with Mama and yell down the hallway, “Drew, Mama said…” And before I could finish telling him what she had cooked he was halfway out the door saying, “Tell her I’m on my way.” LOL! Memories of them are occasionally mournful, occasionally celebratory, often both; but always funny, warm, and delicious. Àṣé.

The Drew Dinner:

Meatloaf made from ground chicken and beef

Mashed Potatoes made from red potatoes

Collard Greens with Sautéed Okra

Homemade Cornbread (baked in a cast-iron skillet)

Sliced homegrown Tomatoes & Spring Onions

Homemade Pickled Beets

Homemade Peach Cobbler…and

a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon

This Blog was written by Leslye Joy Allen and is protected by U. S. Copyright Law and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Any partial or total reference to this blog or any total or partial excerpt of this blog must contain a direct reference to this hyperlink: http://leslyejoyallen.com with Leslye Joy Allen clearly and visibly stated as the author. All Rights Reserved.

Thoughts on the Eve of the 50th Anniversary of the Sixteenth Street Church Bombing

Posted on September 14, 2013 by Leslye Joy Allen (Ayọ)

By Leslye Joy Allen Historian, Educator, Theatre and Jazz Advocate & Consultant, Ph.D. Candidate

"Weary - Self Portrait" by Copyright © 2013 by Leslye Joy Allen. All rights reserved.

This blog is short and bittersweet. It is the evening of Saturday, September 14, 2013, as I write this. It is the eve of the 50th Anniversary of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing that killed four little girls. If they had lived, all of them would be over the age of sixty right now.

I learned today that the ex-husband of an old friend is a member of the Wesley family, the same family that Cynthia D. Morris bka Cynthia D. Wesley lived with. My friend informed me that Mrs. Gertrude Turner Wesley suffered a nervous breakdown after “Cynthia Diane Morris bka Cynthia Diane Wesley” was killed in this explosion. It seems that both her biological family and her host (or adoptive) family loved this little girl. Her host or adoptive family did not have any biological children, which is why she appeared as the “only daughter” of the Wesleys in so many news reports in 1963. Yet, Fate Morris, the brother of “Cynthia Diane Morris aka Cynthia Wesley” remembers his sister and is a man that needs some answers and some acknowledgement.

With her Death Records amended by the state of Alabama in 2002 which legally changed her name back to her original birth name of “Cynthia Diane Morris,” it must be acknowledged that this problem with her death and who or what she should be called has highlighted an important and beautiful legacy among us Black folks: We Black folks have always had a tradition of taking in children if they needed to go to another school or if their parents were struggling financially or if they just simply needed a home.

Yet, in many instances—particularly before the late 20th century—we never signed any legal agreements or signed any adoption or guardian papers, we just opened our homes and our hearts. With that said, it does not matter so much that Cynthia is/was claimed, legally or otherwise, by the now-deceased Wesleys; after all, they loved her. Yet, what Fate Morris, who remembers his sister’s visits on weekends, needs most of all is to hear someone say that she was “Cynthia Diane Morris,” his sister. What he and indeed, Birmingham, Alabama desperately needs is all of the truth and some real closure.

On the evening of September 12, 2013, I cried when I listened to Fate Morris describe that day when his sister was killed. He was eleven years old. I wept again today when I learned that Mrs. Wesley suffered a nervous breakdown after young Cynthia’s death. Right now, I weep for them all. To be continued…: “Related Material – a BlogTalk Radio Interview and an important new CNN article 9-14-2013”

Leslye Joy Allen is also a perpetual and proud supporter of the good work of Clean Green Nation. Visit the website to learn more about it: Gregory at Clean Green Nation!

This Blog was written by Leslye Joy Allen and is protected by U. S. Copyright Law and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Any partial or total reference to this blog, or any total or partial excerpt of this blog must contain a direct reference to this hyperlink: http://leslyejoyallen.com with Leslye Joy Allen clearly stated as the author.

Leslye Joy Allen

Social Commentary, History, Theatre, Jazz, and the Environment

Tag Archives: remembrance

Mama’s “Drew Dinner”