Cleveland

My sister came along in 1954 and for some unknown reason I was shipped off with my Grandmother (Mothers Mother) for a summer trip.

My grandmother Leota Earle Kyle was born in  1880 (ish) somewhere in the mid Atlantic states, most likely Virginia or Kentucky.

Her mother (my great grandmother) had been some relation to Andrew Johnson (the only president at that time to face impeachment) and according to legend she was either the first female truant officer or Juvenile Court Officer in the USA...a fact I have never been able to verify.

The family lived out of town on a small farm ( ? ) and she took in wayward boys-about 20 of them over the years-who she raised along with her own brood of 12 or so children.

The history of the Kyle family is full of legends and tall tales-Grandma's youngest sister Elizsabeth predicted her own death one rainy afternoon before she was 6-announcing she would join the angels before she turned 6 years old and she did.

The pair of twins that were just slightly older were born as the smallest surviving twins in the state up until that time-together they weighed less than 6 pounds (allegedly) and were shown at a county fair at some point-must be a part of my fascination with carnival shows.

The children, brothers and sisters alike had a favorite pastime putting on Circuses in the barn for which an admission of 2 pins was charged...my grandmother was always the snake charmer and used garter snakes which apparently were abundant in that area.

One of the older boys stretched a hemp rope in the rafters to perform a wire walker act and fell two stories to his death OR he was "crippled for life"-either way it didn't turn out well.

My Grandmother was closest to one of the tiny twins, MARGARET herein after known as AUNT MARGARET.

I know very little else about the early years but at some point Grandmas married an Englishman name George or Gregory (he was known as George) Hilliard.

This man was considerably older than her, at least 10 years perhaps more-they had two children Uncle Roy (Royce Coleman Hillard 1915) and my Mother (Margurite Hilliard 1920-Mother would later give herself the name Barbara since many people said she had a resemblance to Barbara Stanwyk).

Attempting to trace the family from that point is nearly impossible-they moved alot.

Again it's a life rampant with tales and anecdotes-Grandpa may have been an FBI man earlier in his life and then later became a Barber in his retirement-he supposedly knew and cut hair for Stan Laurel or Oliver Hardy one or the other.

My Grandmother was a gypsy at heart and moved the family aroiund a lot-they had an orchard near Sarasota Florida and may have had a peanut farm near Atlanta.

Grandmas sister Aunt Magaret had a daughter who had two sons (Nell) and may have divorced and remarried-at any rate she ended up with a German fellow named Louis Schliessmann-the families lost track of each other during WW2 - Grandpa George had died, my mother was possibly doing nursing and they decided to come to California where Uncle Roy was stationed.

Shortly after the war Roy became a driver for Greyhound buses, met a woman named MARGE that Grandma didn't approve of and moved back east.

It's important at this juncture to mention that my Grandmother was fond of telling people two things about herself-that she was descended from Cherokee Royalty and had by them been named Lee Oh Tah which meant Rising dawn sun (I don't think that's true) AND that she was a witch.

This 2nd part apparently she reminded her children about frequently-she was a witch and anyone who did her wrong would die a horrible death...

"Did her wrong" was up for interpretation.

Uncle Roy married the loose woman that Grandma didn't approve of and in 1952 was hit by a part of an exploding air hammer and killed instantly.

Grandmas didn't approve of Mother marrying Lou Gaus (my biological father) they had a huge fight about it and Grandmas went off to Cleveland to be a governess for a couple of rich kids.

Lou Gaus was hit by a bus and killed instantly in 1949-in about 1953 Grandma came back to "HELP"
Mother.

The story of how my Mother met my stepfather (Don McAfee) is another legend:

He was a Navy War hero-he had joined up at 16 (signed in by his mother Grandmas Frances) and finally had been assigned to the USS Johnson which was destroyed in the Battle of Layte Gulf.

"Dad" was seriously injured (read blown almost to bits) and was stabilized and then shipped home in a body cast to San Francisco and later San Diego (maybe).

Meanwhile Mother who was a pregnant widow (the curse again?) had been living in Carlsbad with the inlaws but on the encouragement of my God-Parents came back to Lynwood where she owned the house  she and Lou had bought and went to work for my Uncle Donald as a counter girl in his cleaning establishment near 82nd street.

Grandma Frances (don's mother) had her cleaning done at Don Primos cleaners and asked about my Mom since she had a damaged son just home from the service.

Uncle Donald agreed to introduce my Mother to Fran's son IF she would send said son around for an interview....she did and the happy couple met at Morningside Baptist Church on Easter Sunday-that was about 1950-by 1951 they were married-he legally adopted me in 1952 since he had never been sure who HIS father was and wanted better for me...the rest is history....he died of horrible cancer in 1982.

In all fairness-he was a good man and the only Father I ever knew-just when my sister and I had started to know him he was gone.

The witch hated him.

When Aunt Margaret was re-found she lived in Cincinatti with Uncle Louis.

Since Mother was busy with a newborn and none of her cronies had ever seen me so Grandma whisked me off on a greyhound bus for three days and three nights continuous travel across the USA via diners, bus depots and various "comfort stops".

Stopping at a bus depot was always and adventure-toilets charge a nickle to open the door on the stalls but my Grandmother had a small 5 year old-so she would check the stall for occupancy via a quick look under the door and if it was clear I would scuttle under and open the door from inside-thus saving 5 cents (the depression was still pretty vivid in the 1950s.

On at least one occasion I was met with the shocked face of a very startled stranger with a child emerging between her legs-In those cases we either beat a hasty retreat or Grandmas would scold me and tell me she had repeatedly warned me against crawling under doors-we both know it was all for show.

In diners Grandma didn't like to see good food go to waste so any bag of chips, spare pickle or packet of soda crackers were quickly scooped up and either onto her plate or into her purse.

She actually purloined an entire half of a corned beef sandwich when the gent next to her went off to the little boys-she swore she had no idea where it might have gone and was fairly sure he had eaten it before he left.

Luckily he got off the bus about 2 hours later so she could enjoy the sandwich in peace and without recriminations.

She also shop lifted comic books and colouring books and other trinkets to keep me busy...lifesavers and the occasional candy bar as well.

It wasn't that she didn't have money but who would have thought?  This sweet lady alone with a small child was not above petty larceny....and she often told men, especially men in uniform about her now dead brave son and my now dead father in gruesome detail accentuated with the little lace edge hankie she carried which on several occasions found them paying our lunch bill or slipping her a few bucks.

In Cleveland we stayed with Floyd.

I have no idea who Floyd was or how she knew him-he was a soft spoken man with watery eyes behind thick glasses-he lived in a third story walk up that was quite neatly kept, had flowered chintz furniture and too many pictures of his Mother around.

We visited the Matthews family on Dennison Ave where my "aunt" Joyce lived with her parents and a brother or two-they were "French Canadians" and had been neighbors when Mother and Grandmas lived in Cleveland I would als meet RUTH another single mother whose son Michael was always up to no good.

Joyce, Ruth and Mother had been constant friends in her teens and Joyce supposedly was in love with Uncle Roy-as it happened she never married and outlived Mother-we spent some long telephone calls with her filling me in on things she felt she couldn't tell me while Mother was still alive.

We also went out to Shaker Heigths where the Smith's lived-the family of the two boys my grandma had cared for Truman and Logan or Lyman (I think).

The most memorable visit was to EMMA LEEDY-I'm sure the head of the coven!

She lived in a dusty, dark Victorian with a cramped parlor-as the story goes a tornado had come down there street and she stood on the porch casting a shield spell-her house was the only one spared (the story is partly true-most of the damage was to the south of her where the tornado had started west and dissipated

Mrs Leedy had small, dark, sparkly eyes and walked with a stick for balance-she still wore long skirts and high necked blouses and had just the edge of a German Accent.

Her house was filled with oddities-liked stuffed birds in frozen landscapes under domes and vases of Peacock feathers.

Mrs' Gundy (yup another one) came in later in a long black dress with a large picture hat that had plumes on it and little lace mitts with no fingers.

They sat in a close circle those three and talked about all sorts of things I didn't understand.

Apparently I fell asleep under a mahogany table and woke up just in time to walk to the street car.

From there we went to Cincinnati for the reunion with Aunt Margaret.

They lived in a brownstone again a few flights up in a bad part of town next to an alley where people were often stabbed to death (or so they told me).

I think Fountain Square in Cincinnati is where the statue of the lady with the water coming out of her hands is located (I think someone told me it has been moved from where the Carew Tower is)?

Where ever that fountain is I had an odd experience:

Grandma liked to window shop so we often wandered around the town looking at all sorts of strange trinket shops-we were somewhere near the Carew tower I think in fountain square...I heard a distant scream and there was a loud noise, something exploded into a red mist very close in front of me and I was covered with sticky wet....then pandemonium started and I remember a Policeman in a uniform grabbed me up and ran into a coffee shop with me (I think it was a counter style place ...where they started trying to wipe me off-when I finally looked at my Grandmother she was covered with red and bits of something.

I wasn't the least bit frightened or upset but they kept telling me everything was OK and eventually they gave me a milk shake.

Apparently a man had jumped off one of the high buildings and landed about 6 feet in from of us-narrowly missing hitting someone on the crowded sidewalk.

I only remember the red mist and the warm wet-it happened too quickly and unexpectedly for any further visual reference.

It must have registered somewhere on my psyche because after that I was always afraid of heights and still am today.

Somewhere along our route was a dim, incense filled shop owned by a very kind Chinese man who actually had long mustaches and a pigtail that hung down from one of those little round silk hats-he looked just like the man in the Charlie Chan movies that owned the opium den.

He had a novelty and joke shop that was along our route so I would beg to go in there-he often gave me candies that tasted like fruit with a sprinkle of cayenne pepper; he had so many things that stretched across several decades for sale.

My Grandmother always watched me closely and usually kept ahold of me but she was busy telling the Chinese Man about her Native American Royalty heritage and her departed war hero son: meanwhile I found a tray of those little viewers they sell in tourist shops with views of the Empire State Building or Mount Rushmore attached to a little bead key chain.

In this case the views were impressive but not of necessarily NATURAL wonders-all the pictures were ladies were their shirts off and monumental endowments...Grandmas caught wind I was up to something and I asked her WHY those ladies looked like that-she peeked at a couple and then sternly informed me they were SWOLLEN because of their sinful lives and would soon die-the viewers were to remind us to live Godly Lives.

That was our last stop at the Chinese Man';s shop.

Aunt Margaret had an old fashioned ice box-literally-they delivered ice still once a week: Uncle Louis chewed Tobacco and between the somewhat sour moldy odor of the ice box and the distinct smell of chewed Tobacco and spit Grandmas we ready to leave fairly quickly.

I don't remember how long we stayed and oddly I don't remember the trip back home-another three days and three nights of diners and pay toilets.

I do know when I came home my bedroom in the new house on Balfour had been all done up for me in a sort of clown motif- bright primary colored handles on the chest of drawers, circus themed curtains and wallpaper-one of those decor choices that seem wonderful when a child is 5 but by the time they are 7 will be sadly inappropriate.

I guess since they didn't have an extra bedroom they couldnt do Grandmas room over as a nursery so she took her nesting out on my room instead.

Aunt Margaret sent birthday and Christmas gifts over the years but labored under the delusion that I had not grown at all since she saw me.

Uncle Louis would pass away about 1961 and Mother went east to help Aunt Margaret with Grandma in tow (on an airplane)...Aunt Margaret came back with them to stay the summer and she and Grandma fought day and night-finally Aunt Margaret took a train home with Grandma's curses raining down around her ears.

She had a staff infection that led to having a leg amputated and she died alone a couple years later (before Grandma went).

When my Grandmother came back from the funeral all she said was, "Well, now I guess I can rest in Peace".

The curses were almost over.

I have never been to Cleveland...or Cincinnati...again.