Rebecca Whitmore

Macon, Georgia – Today she turned 88 years old. She has had quite a journey. In 1952, she became pregnant. She was unmarried and unloved. She was used and cast away. Anyone with sense knows a Whitmore won’t be used and cast away without hell to pay. Rebecca was sent to Houston, Texas to live with her Great Aunt, Mrs. Celia Bates, and Uncle George. The journey was long driving West across Alabama and Louisiana to Houston.

My brothers, Chester and Joseph drove us. We started early at 3 am in the morning. We packed summer sausage, crackers, sour pickles, and beer (strawberry Fanta for Rebecca and me).

The dew sparkled in the moon light as I walked carefully to the station wagon hand in hand with Rebecca. Joe and George took turns driving only stopping to get petrol and use the restrooms. We arrived at Uncle George’s by 3 pm Houston time. I was entering a new life, a new birth for myself supporting family. The driveway up to the house was long and curved. Texas maples line the road on both sides… Aunt Celia was sitting on the porch when we rounded the curve and the house came into view…

Gertie stood in the doorway, we were home. In 1950, there were no conversations. In 1950, there were no delusions or irresponsibility. Gertie was Aunt Celia’s only child who survived to adulthood. There were always various hazards to be careful of in 1950. Children were especially vulnerable. Aunt Celia had learned how to keep a child safe and alive through trial and error.

Worried mothers came from far and wide for help from Aunt Celia. Uncle George asked no questions and carried on with his business of hunting, fishing, and building. Uncle George’s specialty is finding water sources for superior wells. ..

In 1950, good families supported each other – mistakes were made and family circled the injured family member. Homes were kept up by all members. The old folks were cared for by family. The family standards and reputation were respected and honored. If you were the only child, you did your duty. If you were the eldest child, you did your duty. If you were a mother, you were a mother. If you were a father, you were a father. There was no abdicating duty. The community helped and supported their own. Those more prosperous helped those less so.

In time, these standards would ebb. In time, these standards would flow. There was a balance. You learned to prepare for the ebb by storing up during the flow. Just as the seasons change, the hearts of people change. The wise ones know how to stay the course and hold on, from generation to generation quietly and with integrity.

Ms. Rebecca Whitmore born July 1, 1932, and transitioned on September 14, 2020. She lived quietly. She saw much. She laughed mightily. She loved devotedly. She transitioned with dignity. I witnessed it all. Now, I carry on.