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Woebeit, I’m a man without a country, insofar as I didn’t register when the NAACP’s collectively restored the citizenship of Black soldiers that were unfairly kicked out of the military dishonorably. I’m claimed by my whole villages of Fifth Ward and Acres Home. Moreover Wheatley’s class of 1952 still claims me as an alum, although I graduated from Aldine ISD’s George Washington Carver’s class of 1953. Hey, don’t even try to figure it out, because I’ve certainly raised enough hell in damn near 72-years to be considered a legend in both communities.
Nevertheless, the proclamation that’s being presented to me on Bud Johnson’s Day by City Councilmember Carol Mims Galloway and Mayor Bill White in the front page photo, reveals that I was born in Houston, Texas Fifth Ward on Jan. 7, 1934, attended Bruce Elementary, E. O. Smith, Wheatley and finally graduated from Carver, a year after my eligibility to play sports at Wheatley expired.
But, alas, column headline’s space is limited, so I used “Da’ Big Nickel” because I was born on Press @ Market Street and was 17 when we moved to Garden City Park. Nevertheless I owe “The Shakes” for embracing and nurturing me for over 54-years.
Hey, you talk about two different worlds, you can’t imagine the culture shock it was to move from that shotgun shack on the corner of Worms and Oats, in the ‘hood, to ready built homes in Black suburbia.
The fact that when I slept in the bathtub (waiting on the utility people to come and hook up our lights and gas), it was the first time I had ever been in an indoor bathtub should give you a clue. Hello, number three washtub, heating bath water on the stove, or sharing it with other family members. Aw come on and pray with me you 1950 era brothers and sisters. You sho’ nuff know where I’m coming from.
Split loyalties notwithstanding, when I think about it, I really didn’t leave Fifth Ward too far behind, insofar as Everett and Frances Bryant King moved into the house on the left side of me and my lifetime pal Otis, moved in with them when he attended TSU. On the right, my mother’s childhood friend, Robert “Sonny Boy” Harris, (Who cut Mr. Oange’s gut out), moved in with his wife, Willia Mae, a Fifth Ward Franklin offspring. Next to them were Cynthia Willis Brooks, and her kids Don Ray and “Cookie.” Don was a Wheatley classmate. And around the corner was Tom and his wife, Marie Brewster Sanford, who lived across the street from his big brother “Bubba,” Sanford. Need I go on, because you already know I still attended Pleasant Hill BC, where my momma and daddy got married? Daddy continued to drive to Square Deal Barber Shop until Charlie Crawford retired. But, after I became a sports star at Carver, I acclimated to The Shakes. Ironically, I got my hair cut at Curley’s Barbershop, who was African-AmericanNews&Issues’ publisher Roy Douglas Malonson’s father. Shazam! It was a divine plan for me to begin and end my career at an Acres Home based newspaper. I started as a Fifth Ward educator Richard Moore’s Acres Home Reporter in 1953.
Oops, space is running scarce, therefore let’s cut to the chase so I can explain why This Bud would vote for term limited City Councilmember Carol Mims Galloway’s little girl, even if you won’t believe it’s not because she orchestrated Bud Johnson’s Day. If you knew my history, you would know that it was Bud Johnson Day in 1985, when I retired after 35-years of being one of the nation’s top Sports Editors at the Houston Forward Times. The Judge, Lloyd .C. A. Wells and Artice “Cboy” Vaughn collaborated on the event that was held at Club Was. Carol, in fact, would be first to ask, “What’s Love Got To Do With It?” Instead, this could be my last chance to propagate a new concept for Black voters that might help us negate the damage that term limits has done to Black Houston’s political structure.
For sure, if we emulated the major political parties and vote for a plan, rather than the man, or woman (See This Bud’s For You), our lost Black power would be restored in city government. Think about it. Then again, it’s important (to me) to keep the “Fifth Ward Legacy” that I passed on to Mickey, Harold, Carol, Ron, Al, et al, and spread it gently. Trans-lation: It’s important for our elected officials to not be scared to “say what they mean, mean what they say and not give a damn who don’t like it.” I wonder if anybody knows where I’m coming from?