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Overwhelming feelings of my evening walk in Louisiana 

Our evening run, well his run Im taking pics, but managed brisk walking even to the point of swinging my arms fast when  he looks back lol.

Hammond kinda has a Minnesota suburbs feel, Im thinking it’s because of the trees, a few street lights and no side walk. It feels so good to be able to hear the crickets, feel the wind blow and just feel at peace with nature. Total opposite of being in New Orleans; where the crickets are police or ambulance sirens.


As the sun went down,  I noticed the roads were a mixture of rocks and that red Mississippi clay dirt with this crunchy hard noise under my feet. The big old tall pine trees looked like their branches  touched the sky and its trucks poked out like a proud man.wp-image-1779111045

 

Hammond has a settled in life, relaxing, mature appeal, like sitting on the porch drinking leomande and the faint smell of jasmine or magnolia scent in the air, but that feeling didnt last long before I was reminded I was in the South..
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The beautiful house Kelvin wanted me to see looked like a planation house, there was even a lil house behind it where the slaves where housed, I’m thinking….. Then I envisioned my people hanging from the branchy oak trees and the pine trees looked like big tall men. The crunchy road with tall bushes aligning it had the scent of freedom and fear… It all just brought to mind all my people endured for us. I couldn’t imagine how they survived.


wp-image-1391917901wp-image-1890594008It got dark so fast after Kelvin and I split up so he could run. The plan was once I went around the college one time, we where to meet up where we started. He wasn’t there,  I waited for 15 mins, noticed I was the only black person walking and the only  woman at that, there where a few college students running and a man with a big dog.  I kept seeing the same white GMC truck, then what really messed with my nerves was a truck with some white young boys riding in the back of it….I reached for my phone which was at 2%, I was cussing myself out for using it to take these damn pics and buying mace but never bringing it out my house…

 

I tried to call Kelvin but he would leave it at home… I decided to walk where the blue emergency light/phone was and wait, but after 30 minutes I would pick up the phone. A few minutes passed and I saw a man in the distance, but he had something on his head that was flapping as he walked towards me.. I like that look like a KKK mask, so I pulled my dead phone out to pretend to make a call and started to cross the street, but there was construction going on and no side walk. I decided to walk in the street, slipped but didnt fall on the red clay dirt and jumped in the grass.

Then I heard Kelvin say “Didn’t I tell you to stay on the side walk and where were you?” He had his white towel on his head. I busted out laughing trying to tell him how I was feeling overwhelmed about my surroundings, but all he wanted to know is where I was at. Did I walk the whole college  and he was worried was his only words spoken to me as if he where in charge of my well-being.  I said, yeah I walked it almost twice, but he’s claiming there was no way I could have because, he did, sat on a bench to wait for me and walked back to find me. I kept saying yes, but that wasn’t good enough.

“Did you see the store and fire station” he asked me as he grabbed my hand, turned back in the area he came and started walking. I really didn’t remember because, I was worried about being black at the wrong time and place; especially with all that is going on in this world. This man, Kelvin had both of us walking the college again and walking as he calls it fast pace to make sweat?…. Actually, as we where walking I realized that I did not walk the Whole Entire College Campus, just the main building and stadium.

Yes, he had us walking again after I walked at least 1.5miles and he walked almost 4…. He tortured Us just to prove he was right about me not walking the Whole Entire almost 4 mile college campus and its dorms… We didn’t even have a bet or nothing…Now, we all have energy to do is eat and go to bed, but he just as content as he can be, because he was right…Men…


A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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