Leaving Gee's Bend (19 page)

Mama fingered the eye patch on the quilt. “It’s ain’t as simple as believing or not believing.” My heart sank down to the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t the answer I wanted. “Lu, I got to tell you, sometimes things don’t make sense, no matter how hard you try to figure it. Sometimes none of the rules fit.” I looked her in the eye. Now we was getting someplace! “Them are the times you got to find the courage to do what you think is best. You got to make up your own mind and see it through.”

I grinned. “Just like stitching a quilt.”

“That’s right,” Mama said. “Now tell me everything.”

Once I started telling it, there wasn’t no stopping me. Wasn’t a single thing I left out. And by the time I got to the part about Mrs. Cobb giving me a Coke to drink, Ruben and Daddy was listening too.

Even Rose was listening. And when I held up the quilt to show my story piece by piece, that baby girl squealed and gurgled like she was gonna start talking right then and there. I mean to tell you, there ain’t nothing sweeter in this whole wide world.

Things was different between me and Mama after that. She didn’t worry after me the way she used to. And I didn’t wear no eye patch ever again.

I don’t reckon I have to tell you Mama sure was right about them shoes. I changed my mind all right.

But that’s a different quilt. And a whole other story.

Author’s Note

 

LEAVING GEE’S BEND is a fictional story that evolved out of my love for quilts and other textile arts. The daughter of a seamstress, I grew up watching my mother use a needle and sewing machine to create works of art out of plain pieces of fabric. So when I learned The Quilts of Gee’s Bend art exhibit would be on display at the Whitney Museum of American Art during a trip to New York City, I knew I needed to see it. (Yes, even though Gee’s Bend is located only 120 miles from my home in Birmingham, Alabama, I had to travel all the way to New York City to view the exhibit!)

Something happened to me as I walked through those rooms. I was moved by the colors and textures, and by the voices of the quiltmakers as they told their stories. For weeks afterward, their words woke me in the mornings and sang me to sleep at night. I wanted to know anything and everything about this place and its people, so I began to feed my obsession by reading whatever I could find about Gee’s Bend. And I began to write about what I was feeling, first in a poem entitled “The Quilts of Gee’s Bend,” which appeared in
Whatever Remembers Us: An Anthology of Alabama Poetry
(Negative Capability Press, 2007), and later in prose. I completed three novels set in Gee’s Bend before I found within myself the story I meant to tell all along: Ludelphia’s story,
Leaving Gee’s Bend
.

There are many fascinating events in the history of Gee’s Bend, but it was the photographs Arthur Rothstein took for the Resettlement Administration in 1937 that most captivated me. Then when I read firsthand accounts of the 1932 raid on Gee’s Bend and later learned of the subsequent Red Cross rescue, I knew this was the experience I most wanted to write about. The people who lived through this terrible time possess a strength and faith I admire and want only to honor. To that end, I chose to name my characters using surnames that are common in Gee’s Bend even now: Bennett and Pettway. The characters in this book are completely fictional, but they are certainly inspired by the stories told by the actual residents of Gee’s Bend.

If you would like to know more about these real people and this place called Gee’s Bend, please see the beautiful book
Gee’s Bend: The Women and Their Quilts
and its companion,
The Quilts of Gee’s Bend: Masterpieces from a Lost Place
(Tinwood Books, 2002). There is also a film entitled
The Quiltmakers of Gee’s Bend
that was produced by Alabama Public Television in association with Hunter Films in 2005. Also, there is not a finer piece of writing than the 2000 Pulitzer Prize-winning article by J. R. Moehringer, “Crossing Over,” that chronicles the story of Mary Lee Bendolph and her relationship with the Alabama River. There is also an incredible stage play by Elyzabeth Gregory Wilder called
Gee’s Bend.

Currently Gee’s Bend is officially known as Boykin, Alabama. Its quilting tradition continues to thrive even as the population dwindles. The ferry runs daily between Camden and Gee’s Bend, and at the time of this writing is operated by Hornblower Marine Services.

Acknowledgments

It takes an army to write a book, and this one was blessed with many wonderful warriors. I thank you all and ask your forgiveness for the names I am bound to leave out.

First and foremost, I’d like to thank the quilters of Gee’s Bend for each and every stitch that goes into the making of a quilt. Thanks also to Bill Arnett for bringing these amazing works of art into museums across the country. And to all the teachers, librarians, writers, historians and photographers who have made it their business to document and share the history of Gee’s Bend, I thank you for making the research part of writing this book a real joy. Any errors are mine alone.

Special thanks to my agent Rosemary Stimola for her steadfast guidance. Thanks also to the crew at Putnam, most especially my gifted editor Stacey Barney, who took a chance on a skeleton of a story and made just the right observations and asked just the right questions to help me grow a full-fledged novel. And to all the Tenners: I can’t imagine a better group of writers with whom to share the journey.

Thanks to the following people who read early drafts of this and/or other stories: Amy Badham, Lynn Baker, Jerri Beck, Lori Ditoro, Evelyn Dykes, Jennifer M. Dykes, Ken Dykes, Sr., Pam Freeman, Cayley Griffiths, Sarah Griffiths, Mary Hughs, Roger Hughs, Allen Johnson, Bobbie Latham, Paul Latham, Russ Nelson, Carol Norton, Jim Reed, Mary Ann Rodman, Debbie Parvin, Stephanie Shaw, Seth Tanner, Pam Toler, Debbie Whalen, Jan Young.

Thanks also to Granddaddy, Grandma, Mama, Papa, Stan, Ken II, Lynn and MicaJon for giving me such colorful cloth to work with. And to Paul, Daniel, Andrew and Eric: you are the needle and thread in my pocket. Thank you.