In the late 1950s my family lived in the house at 75 Brighton, which
is on the west side of the street on that steepest block between
Grafton and Lakeview.
In those days there were at least three Filipino families with kids
who played on the street of that block a lot. But as there was only
one Black kid there at that time, and I was the most frequent of the
White kids outside, we were the cultural outsiders and became best
friends.
And being Ralph Bayard's best friend could sometimes be a very good
thing, especially if anything came up involving the many Black kids on
the next block over to the east, which was Lee Street. In fact, the
kids on Brighton hardly ever went over to Lee Street at anytime or for
any reason.
On any occasion I did go over there, it was usually with Ralph. and
that included one evening when I accompanied him while he was
collecting bills associated with his paper route. And it was always a
cultural adventure.
For example, I remember one very large and agreeable Black lady
responding to us at her door buzzer, but then insisting that we all
wait through the conclusion of the "Amos and Andy Show" before any
business was conducted. And when it was over the lady said: "Oh, I
knows they all White folks, but it's still ma favorite program."
An odor of cabbage hung particularly thick throughout the house that
night, and Ralph being somewhat attuned to my own reaction to this
less familiar culture almost got us into trouble with an epidemic of
snickering.
As you can tell, Ralph frequently found a way to have fun no matter
what was going on. And that was particularly the case after a much
younger Black kid by the name of Junior and his family began renting a
place on our own block.
In fact, Junior's family happened to move into a small cottage that
was immediately on the south side of my own family's place; so even
though he was really too young for Ralph or I to play with, we did get
to know him well.
Junior lived with his mother and a few sisters, and somehow or another
we came to realize that his mother thoroughly disliked White people.
In fact, Junior himself seemed to have a habit of throwing rocks at
people without any kind of provocation. And it's likely that poverty
was one of the reasons.
As there were limitations, Ralph and I tended to steer clear of Junior
unless he seemed to be in an agreeable mood. And Ralph gained a
sincere fascination for Junior's family, as they all sounded very
Black and quite Southern.
One especially unforgettable day, for reasons I'm now about to get
into, Ralph began a conversation with Junior about food. Ralph's own
mother had a good income and worked as a cook at San Francisco
Air****t, but for some reason she always kept the kitchen cabinets at
home locked, so he tended to obsess about food.
On this particular evening, when he seemed to be drawing Junior into a
conversation mostly for my entertainment, Ralph happened to hear that
Junior was preparing to go inside for dinner, and so he said: "Junior,
what's for dinner?
And Junior said: "We havin po chops."
Something about this got Ralph on a roll, because the next thing he
asked is:
"Junior, whatca havin with them po chops?"
And without missing a beat, as if on cue, Junior came back with: "We
havin cabbage wit dem po chops."
Now even Junior was smiling at this, so I just kept my mouth shut
while sitting on a nearby concrete seat.
Then Ralph said: "Well Junior, what-ca havin wif dem po chops and da
cabbage?"
And again, as if right on the same wavelength, Junior says: " We gonna
have us some "kone-bread" wit the po-chops n the cabbage."
At this point Ralph looked stunned, like someone who had accidentally
come up with the words of a number one song, and so he begins to
chant: "Po chops, cabbage, n corn bread." "Po chops, cabbage, n corn
bread."
In fact, going beyond even that, Ralph bends over and with his hands
slapping time against his thigh, goes into doing what's called a
hambone or hand jive. And all the while he's chanting out:
"Po chops, cabbage, and kone-bread."
Then Ralph stops, looks at Junior as if something is missing, and more
seriously asks:
"Junior, what-chall gonna drink with the po-chops, cabbage, and kone-
bread?"
At this point Junior says: "We havin Kool-aid."
And Ralph, looking as if inspiration has totally swept him away,
returns again to slapping his thigh to this beat:
"Po-chops, cabbage, and kone-bread - and Kool Aid to wash it down!"
Then again and again: "Po-chops, cabbage, and kone-bread - and Kool
Aid to wash it down!"
Finally Ralph stops all this, and again looking quite serious asks:
"Junior, can you go in da house and get me some kone-bread." And to
this Junior says: "I can't cause ma-momma she mixes the kone-bread
with the cabbage."
As you can imagine, Ralph came apart laughing. In fact, months later
we were both falling apart everytime either of us decided to utter
those magical words: "Po-chops, cabbage, n kone-bread, n Kool Aid to
wash it down!"
I don't know where Ralph is today, though he had some interest in show
business. What I do know is that if he is alive, wherever he is, he's
still going into that routine and probably doing a hand-jive at the
same time; so if you see him, let him know Hamilton never forgot it
either.
by Hamilton Barrett
|
