A Man Called Mother
You could always find mother sitting on his screened
in front porch in the 700 block of Ashland Avenue. He seemed to always be standing guard over
his two story partially brick framed house where so many have walked through
his doors and emerged a completely different person than when they went
in. Mother was a person who took in
those that others had given up on or tossed away. The forgotten ones and those left to fend for
themselves after all of the social-experiments had failed. That house had a reputation of finding that ingot
of good in a person and turning it into a gold mine of talent and righteousness.
Ask anyone around the neighborhood and they would
tell you tales of mother and how he was able to reach those that was once thought
unreachable. How he could take those
harden by society, jail and circumstances and mold them into citizens with more
than a purpose. They became citizens
with a cause. But the most interesting
thing about mother was not the fear he injected into those who wish to
challenge his authority. It wasn't his
copper-tone, light brown African-American skin that instilled that fear. It was the addition to his blackness that
made everyone coming into contact with him, stand up and take notice. It was his mixture of black and the DNA from
an ancient yet extinct tribe of Indians called the Whayasa Tribe.
When asked what that meant, the definition will vary
determined by those you asked. If you
asked the many people who he is in the process of helping, you would get one
answer but if you asked those whom he had already rescued and released from his
home, the description would be totally different. I guess the best description of what this
means would come from mother himself.
Ask mother what does being from this unique and extinct but distinct
tribe of Indians mean and mother would always tell you that in his presence you
must always watch what you say.
It wasn’t his stern looks that got you back on track
nor was it his booming voice that could control any room. It was the fact that what was promised was
delivered as advertised and with a swiftness unseen with only the aftermath as
evidence. Those offending the
sensibilities of mother would receive one clear and concise warning, detailing
the next sequence of events if the offense continued. Then as promised, followed by a loud and
sometimes deafening clap of thunder, witnesses would see the results displayed
upon the individual and surroundings as detailed a few minutes earlier. After one round of this, whether you were the
receiver of the correction or a witness, the lesson was learned and mother would
not be taken lightly again. For those
who never witnessed or felt this sensation, they found it hard to believe that
a person so compassionate and so caring could be so devastating. This lesson was often times used once during
the introduction phase of a new group coming through and never had to be used
again.
Many thought that mother’s long and lanky frame did
not support the amount of strength necessary to run a home like he built and was
obviously confused by the stories that they heard emitting from this place but
for those housed within the walls of this sanctuary, they knew differently and that
his looks were certainly deceiving.
Those within the community knew of mother and his
reputation. From the Mayor of the city
all the way down to the local gas company employee. If anything happened within that community, they
knew where to go for answers to solve that mystery and they knew that mother
could be trusted to personally take them directly to the source of the
disturbance. Mother was never afraid to
stand up and step up when it came to protecting anyone in his community, in his
block or in his city. Those seeking to
commit a crime there knew never to do it anywhere that mother or his influence
existed because the entire neighborhood would turn out with him, at trial, to
see justice done. This not only made the
neighborhood safer but the community as a whole and like a silent traveler,
this ease was slowly making its way through the entire city and soon, those
with a desire to commit crimes or take advantage of people within those city
limits would have to face more than just one man, they would have to face an
entire city of law enforcers.
If there was one wrinkle in this satin fabric of life
in this town, it was the secret that mother held. A secret that only three people knew about
and two of them were not physically present to inquire upon. This secret has haunted mother for
thirty-three years and it was nothing that he could easily shed. There were rituals which must be performed in
order to give mother his final yet fatal release from this secret but choosing
to take that route was a little more complicated than just saying “yes”.
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