EARL DOUGLAS WILKINS
EARL DOUGLAS WILKINS
PSU BLACK STUDIES, WINTER 2024
“SHAVER AND MISSISSIPPI”
March 12, 2024
The blast was bright
As stars at night.
And fast like lightning
A muzzle had flashed;
Yet,
The gun was small
As a child's toy —
I did not know,
I just a boy.
The shot rang out.
Loudly the man yelled:
“You shot me, man."
“You were cheating me”
Said the shooter
On Shaver and Mississippi.
Always on that corner
Danger was a possibility.
However,
How could I foresee
A trip for candy
Enveloped into a hug
Of love and protection;
But not my Mother's.
Just some Motherly love —
A beautiful sight to see:
A child's grave undug …
VANCOUVER AND WYGANT: “FRESH BAKED BREAD” (#3 Geopeom)
March 12, 2024.
Is it possible that In this city
You've never met
Black people before?|
We're the kindest
Most generous people
You will find
Throughout all the lands.
So when you see us
There's no need to run
And lock your doors.
Just extend your hand
You've been misled
If you're frightened
And have scary thoughts
Racing through your head.
I only wanted to welcome you
To the neighborhood
And share
This fresh baked bread.
UNTHANK PARK: IT’S BLACK LAND
GEOPOEM
Our houses were
Black people's houses.
Our park was
Black people's park.
Left all alone,
Redlined us in.
We stuck together,
Raised our kids.
Now high bidder
Take our land.
On hands, knee?
No. No. No!
Make our stand:
It's Black land …
BURGER BARN
Burger Barn consisted of two buildings separated by a parking lot. My experiences at Burger Barn reflects the duality of my life as a child and an adult. Moreover, it illuminates the dichotomy of the Black community. We present our social selves to the public, but present our true selves only to our Black community.
When I went to Burger Barn with my Mom, as a child, we went into the building south of the parking lot, where we ordered food. Whenever I looked toward the northern building my Mom would twist my head back around and pull me toward the southern/main building. However, when I became an adult I was welcomed into the northern building, where people gathered: played dominos, coon-can, poker, and shot dice. Also, drinks were sold there. I don’t drink; but, I liked to shoot dice; and, I had lots of fun shooting dice there.
One day I won thousands of dollars shooting dice there with Shadow (Mr. Powe, the owner), Cowboy, Ms. Martha Rae, Sailor Boy, and Mr. Clyde. After I had won about twelve thousand dollars playing “four-five-six”, Shadow said: “I’ll be right back.” He went to his house, behind Burger Barn, and came back with a briefcase filled with one hundred dollar bills (about one hundred thousand dollars). He was still ready to play. Also, he wanted me to know that I could not break him.
UNTHANK PARK (A)
When I was ten years old my family moved into a house on Albina, off Fremont. Officially that is Boise neighborhood; however, nobody who lives there calls it that. We call it Unthank Park neighborhood.
That’s where I’m from.
Before the advent of gang violence and urban renewal destroying the tranquility of our neighborhood, we all knew one another; we were close; we were like a tribe; moreover we took care of one another (babysat, fed, sheltered, and protected). For the youth Unthank Park was a safe place. We hung around the park year-round. In the summer we were shaded by tall, leafy trees, [above the purple, orange, and blue painted picnic tables and plain concrete benches]; sat inside the fountain sculptures and ran under the mist emitted beneath the colonnade. When it rained, we sheltered under the subterranean basketball court [with steps on 3 sides and a roof designed like Australia’s Sydney Opera House].
There were some generally understood rules to adhere to at Unthank Park:
First to arrive got dibs (on basketball court or dice table)
Respect your elders
Protect those younger than you
Best court goes to best players
Share/take turns
10% cut goes to houseman [officiating Dice Game]
Visitors and Foreigners ask permission to enter
Be fair to visitors/foreigners [if they remain respectful]
The park was a safe place. But not on the day after Thanksgiving, 1976. RIta Pittman was the smartest, most promising 8th graders at Boise School. She was killed. In Unthank Park. A poorly designed swing set: 3 large blue, orange and purple painted concrete pillars and 2 badly maintained steel bars broke. Fell. Struck Rita on the head. And ended her promising future.
Rita died on the Failing Street side of the park. Across the street from where she lived: Commercial and Failing. Everyone was sad. We cried. We hugged. And we returned to the park the next day.
The site of the accident, and other potentially dangerous recreation equipment, was yellow taped off. Portland Parks and Recreations removed the swing set and other potentially dangerous recreation equipment they had built. And in a short time, the city made Unthank Park the safest it had ever been. The park is a Black space, stained with our blood, sweat, and tears.
UNTHANK PARK #2(B)
The Center for Self Enhancement and its staff parking lot now sit atop half the land which used to be Unthank Park. Today, like the neighborhood, the park has been gentrified. Black folk have been pruned from being the primary occupiers. The Black faces, and close knit community, who knew one another and interacted on a daily basis at Unthank Park now only exist as thoughts [of homemade ice cream and chili Fritos] I summon from memory, as I recall how wonderful things used to be for Black folks when Albina was predominately Black.
Now African American youth and staff of the Center for Self Enhancement commute to this location, probably to the chagrin of the [new] “Kens” and “Karens” because the space has been preserved as an island of hope and a place of cultural connection to Albina’s rich, resilient Black history. The Center for Self Enhancement is a cultural safehaven, resource, recreational and education facility for African American youth. Here Black folk continue to resist the pushes and shoves of government sponsored erasure as we placemake with Black love.
VANCOUVER AND WYGANT
I have fond memories of living in this two story house, next to the single story house where my Aunt Connes and Uncle Ike lived. Our family members moved between the two houses throughout the day.
My Aunt Conness was a sweet person who was always happy to see us, hug us, and give us juicy kisses on our faces [whether we wanted or not]. Sadly, while living there my Aunt Conness died from breast cancer in 1971 or 1972. Because I was so sad my Mom explained life and death to me. She said: “Baby, all people die.” I looked at her and asked “I’m gonna die?” She said: “We’re all gonna die one day. Me and you.” I really started crying then, saying “I don’t wanna die.” She looked at me for a while, then said: “Stop crying. That’s not gonna change anything. You have to just make the best of the time you have.”
Unlike now, we did not have fences. The fences look claustrophobic and gloomy. They’re blocking off their front yards and front doors, which signals to neighbors and strangers possibly seeking aid that “no one is welcome here.” That being “friendly” or seeking “neighborly compassion” is not a sentiment to expect at these houses. Such an image represents rejection not community [to me].
MISSISSIPPI AND SHAVER
I skipped down the blocks, ran across each street on my way to Lenard's Store to purchase the soft, sweet, chewy strawberry flavored "Now And Later" candies but, then, I heard some wise crackin’, dice clicking and finger snappin’ that became a spectacle of rolling dice on the sidewalk and yells for numbers: "the point" or "craps," depending on whether you bet on the "shooter" or the "fade". I was fascinated and transfixed by the excitement of the dice game's jousting players when a flash/a crackle of a gunshot erupted, and the "fader" yelled: "You shot me"; and, the "shooter" who did the shooting said: "You were cheating me." I had never seen anything like that; so, the 7 yr. old me stood there amazed, as I smelled an aroma like firecracker smoke, then, a Black lady my Mom's age appeared, hugged me protectively to her and said, “You don’t need to be around these old fools," as she whisked me around the corner, to safety and back on my original path to Lenards Store to buy myself a bag of "Now And Later" candies. I had been warned that it was very dangerous to be on that corner; however, I had never seen any danger before, and I never realized I was in danger on that day either. | EDW