Woebeit my tribute, at the Feb. 8, 2005 celebration of my beloved Uncle Blue’s (nee Cornelius Fonteno) life, at The New Mount Calvary MBC, 6050 Beldart, could’ve easily been misconstrued as an insult. But, foolishness is, indeed, a generational curse that bedevils both sides of my African warrior clans. Mayhap I should’ve just said that he was a wild and crazy guy…just like me, because the kind of fool I was alluding to coincides with hero. Square business, “Foolishly bold, ” translates to fearless. In addition, an article in the September 1982 edition of “psychology today” compared foolish behavior to “The Right Stuff,” as described in Thomas Wolfe’s book about the first astronauts.
“A small minority in every generation is relatively fearless. From their ranks come many of our astronauts, our Medal-of-Honor winners, and our most audacious leaders. We need them—but one psychologists argues that we also have to keep an eye on them,” is how Chuck Yeager and his fellow test pilots were depicted. In essence, only fools charge machine gun nests, or fall on grenades to save others. That’s why most heroes are dead. What I’m saying is, Uncle Blue lived a very reckless life, because he wasn’t scared of nothing, or nobody. And, as I told Pastor Ronald Smith and his congregation, “If you knew my Uncle Blue, you also know me. For real, I thought I was l looking at myself (see inset), or my late brother, when I viewed his remains. Hey! My recklessness is why Trooper Robert Powell tabbed me “The Mandingo Warrior.”
Need I tell you why it’s now “Old”? And I act like him because, although my momma was only 11 (when Pearlie Easter Fonteno died during childbirth), she had to help raise her five siblings and he was the baby. In addition, grandpa gave him the same pre-school education that I got. He was born Nov. 23, 1923, so he was almost a peer. At 18, he was a boxer and taught his nephews to use their dukes. He also taught his favorite niece, Johnnie Mae Brayboy, to box. Moreover, he taught me more than I needed to know about women, after he married Claudie Mae and moved into our three-room shotgun shack. His only daughter Camilla (who’s married to the Houston Chronicle’s first Black pressman, Joe Brown, Sr) was also born in our house on Oats @ Worms.
Sadly, we lost touch when my Aunt Josephine “Lil’ Babe” (Fonteno) and Uncle Thurman Hayes moved to South Park. Uncle Thurman and Blue were closer than brothers and inseparable. Even so, I was pleased when Uncle Blue stopped turning out joints and gave his life to Jesus, but not surprised. Hey, Rev. William Paul Fonteno definitely taught all of us to fear the Lord and that Barber’s razor strap. Blue, when sober, was brilliant, but had a penchant for heated debates, that often ended in a fist fight. He would argue with a signpost notwithstanding, his mouth is what caused most of his problems. Especially after he got drunk enough to start talking like a Louisiana “Geechie” (grandpa Fonteno was from Lafayette), but I’ve never seen him angry, or even too upset. On the other hand, he loved to fight, because that’s the only way a 5’5” man could demand respect in 1930’s Fifth Ward.
And he could really rumble. Not to mention that he actually could lift twice his 125 pounds over his head. After serving in the Navy during World War II, he opened the Honey Dripper Inn, on Buck @ Gregg. He also went back to Wheatley, with other veterans of “The Big One.” I still laugh thinking of Uncle Blue jumping out of the stands (at a Yates-Wheatley Thanksgiving game) and running across the field-- shouting to Wheatley’s coach Rufus Countee-- “Give me a uniform and put me in there.” He thought he could move the ball on Yates, that had stopped Edgar Davis and “Big Ben” McCauley cold. Yep, Uncle Blue was a fool for sure. Most of the joints in Fifth Ward barred him. Moreso, when he and Uncle Thurman put on their “fighting hats” and went looking for trouble.
Incidentally, Uncle Thurman was shorter than Uncle Blue. Space won’t allow me to revisit all of the wild and crazy things that my family did. So, I’ll cut to the chase and say that everybody loved Uncle Blue. Particularly kids and he loved them right back. His church eulogized how kind and hard working he was, as Rev. R. Ruben, Min. Michael Brown, Rev. Byron Jones and others participated in the order of service. Honorary pallbearers were: Joseph Brown, Sr., Thurman Hayes, Michael Brown and Joseph Brown, Jr. His active pallbearers were his brothers in Christ, the Deacons and Male Chorus of his church.
He leaves cherished memories for his daughter and son-in-law; three loving grandchildren, Brenda, Joseph Jr. and Michael Brown; great-grandchild, Alexis and two sisters, Pearl & Ora Lee. My Uncle Blue was buried with military honors at the Houston National Cemetery. And his epitaph is: “I lived the life I loved, and loved the life I lived.” I wonder if anybody knows where I’m coming from?