Texas State Capitol Memories

Where Brian Donelson and
George McCullough Walked

A novel is fiction. It's not true. Pure imagination. Right? Well, yes, but... I suspect every novel contains some little something from the author's past. Where Love Once Lived is no exception. While I didn't make the same mistakes Brian did, there are events in my life I wish hadn't happened. But I trust God lead me to where I am today.

In the following excerpt, I describe a scene at the Texas state capitol that I had with my mother and dad and sisters when I was a child. Photos reminded me of the event for years after it happened. My dad tricked me into drinking the sulfur tasting water that day cementing the memory forever. I also remember a time when I wondered if people were staring at me and a fellow marine who happened to be black as we traveled from California to Texas.

When we finally reached my parent's house in Austin, I was concerned about their reaction since, as far as I knew, Bill would be the first black person in our home. However, he was accepted graciously. My dad even drove us the rest of the way to Houston, saying we were probably too tired to drive further.

In this excerpt, Brian had asked to meet with Mr. McCullough, the 78-year-old father of Brian's best friend Phil, because Brian wanted advice on being close to God. You'll have to read the book to find out more. I only included enough here to describe the setting.

“You know,” Mr. McCullough said as he and Brian walked through the capitol grounds, “a few years back, ever’one would be staring at us.”

Brian was six foot two, and Phil’s dad was five two or three at the most. Mr. McCullough had just gotten off work at the Driskill and still had on his white shirt and bowtie. Brian wore shorts and Birkenstocks. Still, Brian knew Mr. McCullough was talking about race, not stature or clothing. Mr. McCullough was from a time in history Brian could never fully understand, but he’d read about how blacks suffered. It was a time of segregation.

The Water Fountain and Bench

Mr. McCullough looked around. “When I was jus’ a kid, nine or ten I’d say, my parents brought me here.” He motioned toward the spot where they sat. “My daddy told me to drink from a sulfur fountain that was here. Said it’d be good for me and make me healthy. But there was a problem. Back then, you see, we had separate drinking fountains. One marked ‘white’ and one marked ‘colored.’”

He paused, but Brian waited for him to continue. “There was only one sulfur fountain and it wasn’t marked one way or ‘nother, colored or white.” He laughed. “Didn’t matter. We sneaked a sip when no one was about. Only once, though.” He shook his head and made a face. “Terrible stuff. Smelled like rotten eggs.”

I would love to hear from you. Do you have family memories about visiting places like the state capitol? What caused the memory to stick in your mind? Have you experienced racial segregation? Have you ever felt people were staring at you because you did something out of the norm? Please comment below or email me: sidfrost@suddenlink.net.

Racism is Alive and Well, Unfortunately

Shouts of racism are in the news every day now even though you'd think we'd be way past that today. The old saying, what would Jesus do, comes to mind.

In my book, Where Love Once Lived, the male protagonist is white and his best friend is black. I'm not sure how that happened, but it did make the story more interesting. I'm sure it has a lot to do with my personal beliefs. However, how does a writer who believes in equality, write about people of different races without sounding like he or she is emphasizing the differences. Ideally, race wouldn't be mentioned. This might work in a movie or TV show, but in the black and white of a book, how do you show the black and white of the characters?

I grew up in Austin, Texas during the segregation period, and use the father of one of the characters in the book to tell about some of my experiences of that time. I turned one story upside down, letting a black character tell about his experiences. As George McCullough, now in his seventies, describes his experience back in the 1930-40's with segregation, I'm the white boy he refers to. Well, as far as fiction allows.

"It's called historical, now," Mr. McCullough said holding a fork in the air. "It use' to be a ghetto, you know." He glanced at Brian. "I don't guess Cindy told you that. Most of the Negroes lived east of Austin, but there was a colony here in Clarksville."

Mr. McCullough continued. "When I was growin' up, there were boundaries, you see. We couldn't jus' live anywhere we wanted. Ever'one knew where the lines were. Our street here was as far south as we could live."

He shook his head. "Today, it doesn't matter. No one's shocked when black and white marry, even." He locked eyes with Brian, then moved his gaze to Cindy.

"When was this neighborhood a ghetto, Grandpa?" Cindy asked. "I've heard the story, but I think Brian would like to hear about it, too."

"Let's see." He touched a thumb to his fingers. "I'd say up until sometime in the 1950s." He pointed south. "Over at Mathews School, on 9 ½ Street, that was white. Our lot touched up to a white family's back yard." He laughed. "I'd forgotten about that. Fact is, back in the 1930's or 40's, I use' to play with the little kid who lived there. Well, not play, really. We mos'ly jus' talked through the chicken wire. My Mama and Daddy told me not to, but I did anyway."

As the author, I also worried about making Mr. McCullough sound different. To make up for using the speech pattern, which I felt gave a better view of the character, later in the book, his intelligence is clearly shown.

How do you write about race differences without emphasizing the differences? What do you prefer as a reader?

Racism is Alive and Well, Unfortunately

Shouts of racism are in the news every day now even though you'd think we'd be way past that here in 2011. The old saying, what would Jesus do, comes to mind.

In my book, Where Love Once Lived, the male protagonist is white and his best friend is black. I'm not sure how that happened, but it did make the story more interesting. I'm sure it has a lot to do with my personal beliefs. However, how does a writer who believes in equality, write about people of different races without sounding like he or she is emphasizing the differences? Ideally, race wouldn't be mentioned. This might work in a movie or TV show, but in the black and white of a book, how do you show the black and white of the characters?

I grew up in Austin, Texas during the segregation period, and use the father of one of the characters in the book to tell about some of my experiences of that time. I turned one story upside down, letting a black character tell about his experiences. As George McCullough, now in his seventies, describes his experience back in the 1930-40's with segregation, I'm the white boy he refers to. Well, as far as fiction allows.

"It's called historical, now," Mr. McCullough said holding a fork in the air. "It use' to be a ghetto, you know." He glanced at Brian. "I don't guess Cindy told you that. Most of the Negroes lived east of Austin, but there was a colony here in Clarksville."

Mr. McCullough continued. "When I was growin' up, there were boundaries, you see. We couldn't jus' live anywhere we wanted. Ever'one knew where the lines were. Our street here was as far south as we could live."

He shook his head. "Today, it doesn't matter. No one's shocked when black and white marry, even." He locked eyes with Brian, then moved his gaze to Cindy.

"When was this neighborhood a ghetto, Grandpa?" Cindy asked. "I've heard the story, but I think Brian would like to hear about it, too."

"Let's see." He touched a thumb to his fingers. "I'd say up until sometime in the 1950s." He pointed south. "Over at Mathews School, on 9 ½ Street, that was white. Our lot touched up to a white family's back yard." He laughed. "I'd forgotten about that. Fact is, back in the 1930's or 40's, I use' to play with the little kid who lived there. Well, not play, really. We mos'ly jus' talked through the chicken wire. My Mama and Daddy told me not to, but I did anyway."

As the author, I also worried about making Mr. McCullough sound different. To make up for using the speech pattern, which I felt gave a better view of the character, later in the book, his intelligence is clearly shown.

How do you write about race differences without emphasizing the differences? What do you prefer as a reader?

Note: This is repeated from 4/1/10.

Texas State Capitol Memories

A novel is fiction. It's not true. Pure imagination. Right? Well, yes, but... I suspect every novel contains some little something from the author's past. Where Love Once Lived is no exception. While I didn't make the same mistakes Brian did, there are events in my life I wish hadn't happened. But I trust God lead me to where I am today.

In the following excerpt, I describe a scene at the Texas state capitol that I had with my mother and dad and sisters when I was a child. Photos reminded me of the event for years after it happened. My dad tricked me into drinking the sulfur tasting water that day cementing the memory forever. I also remember a time when I wondered if people were staring at me and a fellow marine who happened to be black as we traveled from California to Texas.

When we reached my parent's house in Austin, I was concerned about their reaction since, as far as I knew, Bill would be the first black person in our home. However, he was accepted graciously. My dad even drove us the rest of the way to Houston, saying we were probably too tired to drive further.

In this excerpt, Brian had asked to meet with Mr. McCullough, the 78-year-old father of Brian's best friend Phil, because Brian wanted advice on being close to God. You'll have to read the book to find out more. I only included enough here to describe the setting.

“You know,” Mr. McCullough said as he and Brian walked through the capitol grounds, “a few years back, ever’one would be staring at us.”

Brian was six foot two, and Phil’s dad was five two or three at the most. Mr. McCullough had just gotten off work at the Driskill and still had on his white shirt and bowtie. Brian wore shorts and Birkenstocks. Still, Brian knew Mr. McCullough was talking about race, not stature or clothing. Mr. McCullough was from a time in history Brian could never fully understand, but he’d read about how blacks suffered. It was a time of segregation.

Mr. McCullough looked around. “When I was jus’ a kid, nine or ten I’d say, my parents brought me here.” He motioned toward the spot where they sat. “My daddy told me to drink from a sulfur fountain that was here. Said it’d be good for me and make me healthy. But there was a problem. Back then, you see, we had separate drinking fountains. One marked ‘white’ and one marked ‘colored.’”

He paused, but Brian waited for him to continue. “There was only one sulfur fountain and it wasn’t marked one way or ‘nother, colored or white.” He laughed. “Didn’t matter. We sneaked a sip when no one was about. Only once, though.” He shook his head and made a face. “Terrible stuff. Smelled like rotten eggs.”

See: http://sidneywfrost.com/capitol.htm for photos of the area where Brian and Mr. McCullough may have been.

I would love to hear from you. Do you have family memories about visiting places like the state capitol? What caused the memory to stick in your mind? Have you experienced racial segregation? Have you ever felt people were staring at you because you did something out of the norm? Please comment below or email me: sidfrost@suddenlink.net.

Yankee, Go Home

While searching through some old files, I found this letter I wrote to the editor of the Austin American-Statesman. The tear sheet didn't show the date, but based on my age and the reference to a May 8 news item, it had to be 1981. Here is what I wrote:

As a 46-year-old native of Austin, I would like to apologize to Mr. and Mrs. James Michener for the actions of two Austin drivers. According to the May 8 Houston Chronicle, James Michener and his wife were told to go home (referring to their Pennsylvania car tags) on two separate occasions while driving in Austin.

We used to have a slogan here, "Austin, the friendly city." I wonder what happened to it?

Sid Frost

Reading this now, nearly 30 years later, I wonder if the reason they were told to leave town might be because of Mrs. Michener's race. In Where Love Once Lived I included a marriage between a young couple, one black and one white, and how this marriage affects their parents. I have no first hand information about mixed marriages, but I've always had an interest in equality and what it would be like if race didn't matter.

How about you? Do you think we'll ever have racial equality in this country?

Racism is Alive and Well, Unfortunately

Shouts of racism are in the news every day now even though you'd think we'd be way past that here in 2010. The old saying, what would Jesus do, comes to mind.

In my book, Where Love Once Lived, the male protagonist is white and his best friend is black. I'm not sure how that happened, but it did make the story more interesting. I'm sure it has a lot to do with my personal beliefs. However, how does a writer who believes in equality, write about people of different races without sounding like he or she is emphasizing the differences? Ideally, race wouldn't be mentioned. This might work in a movie or TV show, but in the black and white of a book, how do you show the black and white of the characters?

I grew up in Austin, Texas during the segregation period, and use the father of one of the characters in the book to tell about some of my experiences of that time. I turned one story upside down, letting a black character tell about his experiences. As George McCullough, now in his seventies, describes his experience back in the 1930-40's with segregation, I'm the white boy he refers to. Well, as far as fiction allows.

"It's called historical, now," Mr. McCullough said holding a fork in the air. "It use' to be a ghetto, you know." He glanced at Brian. "I don't guess Cindy told you that. Most of the Negroes lived east of Austin, but there was a colony here in Clarksville."

Mr. McCullough continued. "When I was growin' up, there were boundaries, you see. We couldn't jus' live anywhere we wanted. Ever'one knew where the lines were. Our street here was as far south as we could live."

He shook his head. "Today, it doesn't matter. No one's shocked when black and white marry, even." He locked eyes with Brian, then moved his gaze to Cindy.

"When was this neighborhood a ghetto, Grandpa?" Cindy asked. "I've heard the story, but I think Brian would like to hear about it, too."

"Let's see." He touched a thumb to his fingers. "I'd say up until sometime in the 1950s." He pointed south. "Over at Mathews School, on 9 ½ Street, that was white. Our lot touched up to a white family's back yard." He laughed. "I'd forgotten about that. Fact is, back in the 1930's or 40's, I use' to play with the little kid who lived there. Well, not play, really. We mos'ly jus' talked through the chicken wire. My Mama and Daddy told me not to, but I did anyway."

As the author, I also worried about making Mr. McCullough sound different. To make up for using the speech pattern, which I felt gave a better view of the character, later in the book, his intelligence is clearly shown.

How do you write about race differences without emphasizing the differences? What do you prefer as a reader?