Our Episcopal Priest
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Plum Thickets and Field Daisies
Plum Thickets and Field Daisies
Plum Thickets and Field Daisies is Rose Leary Love's memoir of her life in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Charlotte. She left the original manuscript in the care of her friends. When the Brooklyn she described ceased to exist, the historical value of the manuscript increased. Realizing this, her friends transferred the memoir to the Robinson-Spangler Carolina Room for care and preservation.
Homes and Their Surroundings
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Our Laundry Man
MY MEMORY OF BROOKLYN would be incomplete without some space being given to our laundry man. He was very fair, tall, lanky, raw-boned and angular. If dressed in buckskins, he would have looked quite the type that one would imagine a frontiersman to have been. Courage showed in his every action, and one could readily see that he feared no man. He moved in every street and alley in Brooklyn and carried a large amount of money in his leather bag, but I never heard of him being molested. Every week, he came for our laundry and brought it back on time.
A Terrible Fire
ONE OF THE MOST exciting and disastrous events that ever occurred in Brooklyn was the big fire of 1917. The day was a pleasant one, and most of our family was at home pursuing various duties and engaging in bits of homey conversation when we heard that there was a fire on a nearby street.
String Bands
OFTEN IN THE MIDDLE hours of the night, our family was awakened by the soft, lifting notes of a string band that had come to serenade us. This music sounded strangely beautiful in the velvety darkness of night. The wonderful spirit of the men who came to share their music with various families in Brooklyn added even more beauty to the occasion.
Miss Hannah Stewart
I REMEMBER MISS HANNAH as my mother’s dearest friend. They differed in appearance and actions, but there existed a bond of love between them that was never broken. When my mother was a corpse at the undertakers, Miss Hannah went there and spent a while with her. Though my mother was stilled in death, I feel that she must have known her friend was by her side.
Banjo Pickers
I VIVIDLY REMEMBER the banjo pickers frequently seen in the streets or standing on a corner plunking out a melody. People often laughed and poked fun at these poor illiterate men who carried their instruments tied around their necks with a heavy string. Most of them came to town from some lowly home in the country and dressed in faded blue overalls and a faded blue coat. Their greatest and best loved possessions were their banjos, and they handled them with affection. Sometimes, one might think that the players looked shiftless and lazy standing on a corner with their banjos.