Plum Thickets and Field Daisies

IN THE NEXT BLOCK from our home lived a physician who was an important person in our early family life. During our father’s lifetime, Dr. George Williams was our family physician, and he remained so after my father’s death.
 
I remember our beloved friend as a large, good-looking man with an olive complexion and black curly hair. He had a jolly, infectious laugh. It was a big hearty laugh that called to you and let you know that he was near.
 

THE GOLD DIGGER was an old man who moved painfully, methodically and slowly. He hobbled from place to place with the aid of an old gnarled stick that looked like a small tree branch.
 
His feeble frame was massive. His great shoulders were rather hunched and rounded, but one could readily see that he had once been a powerful man capable of doing laborious work.
 

MUCH OF THE Material in this book is information that was told to me by older people. Much of it is what I have remembered from my childhood experiences.
 
I have decided to write about the section of Charlotte, North Carolina, which was called Brooklyn because I think its development and the history of its colored citizenry should be recorded.
 
This area was small in land size, but the activities of its people give an intimate glimpse of life as it was centered in this segment of America many years ago.
 

LIZ—I remember her silly face, her misshapen body, her undeveloped mentality. She was such an unfortunate human being. Still, she was a part of Brooklyn’s population. She became a community landmark by constantly roaming the streets, standing for hours on street corners and attending any funeral people would let her attend.