Thereasea Elder Wore Many Hats

 One of the good things about writing historical fiction set in the not-so-distant past is that you can interview people who lived through the conflicts you are writing about. 

One of the hard things about writing "recent" historical fiction is that the people you interview--your experts--are elderly and die. 

Ten years ago I posted my first blog about six people I interviewed for Half-Truths. Only one is still alive. In 2014 I wrote about four women who shared their histories with me. Only two are still living. 

Yesterday, I heard that one of these women, Thereasea Elder, passed away on January 5, at the age of 93.

                                Thereasea as a U.S. Nurse cadet in World War II.

Thereasea's Legacy

I met Thereasea in 2011. With open arms and a smile that never quit, she welcomed me into her home. At the same time, she welcomed Half-Truths into her life. A conversation wasn't complete without her asking, "How is the book coming along?" She encouraged me every time I visited her.

As I tried to understand the city of Charlotte in which she grew up, there were no questions or topics that were off-limits. She told me about the dangers she faced as the first nurse to integrate Mecklenburg County's Public Health Service and the asbestos waste products which coated their window screens from the factory in their Greenville neighborhood.  

In 2014 she proudly showed me the exhibit she helped put together at Johnson C. Smith University honoring those who integrated the medical profession in Charlotte. 

Thereasea's list of accomplishments is long. She was a strong advocate for public health, helped register Black voters, served as president of the Greenville Historial Association, was active in the National Association of Negro Business and Professional Women, served on the board of the Greater Carolinas Chapter of the American Red Cross, and started the Black Heritage Committee in Charlotte. 

Whenever we talked she had a new cause or passion. She was concerned about local drug dealers and gun violence; government officials heard her concerns over the phone and through letters. She received innumerable awards for her service to the city of Charlotte, including the Order of the Long Leaf Pine (North Carolina's Highest Civilian honor) and the Maya Angelou/Elizabeth Ross Dargan Life Time Achievement Award. 

But man, oh man, she loved her hats.

Dozens and dozens of hats were stacked in boxes in her closets. She wouldn't go out without one on her head that of course, coordinated with her outfit.

One day we had a "photoshoot" and Thereasea enjoyed every minute of it.

So did I.

Thereasea was brave and courageous. The same things my protagonist, Kate Dinsmore, wants to be. The same things I want to be.

In 2013 her biography, T.D.'s Truths was published. She was so proud!

The author's note includes an observation that resonated with me:

I was mesmerized by our first meeting. I was struck not only by the power of her narrative, but her ability to cause transformational change in our community. Her nurturing attitude was characterized by unselfish caring, supportiveness, and a willingness to share her time.  

Thereasea's inscription to me reads:

Dearly Beloved Carol,

God has blessed me with your Friendship and Love. To God be the Glory and Power always. 

On a Personal Note

Thereasea quoted this Bible verse to me when she was talking about some of the prejudice she faced growing up:

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11

Certainly, the Lord used Thereasea's talents, energy, and love.

One time my husband and I took her out to dinner at a favorite fish restaurant. After that, she never failed to end our conversations by sending him her love. She always reminded me to give him a hug and a kiss; her love for family inspired me.

I will miss Thereasea's hand clasping mine when we gave thanks for our food. I will miss her hug and her voice. I will miss her encouragement and pride in what I was doing. 

And I will miss her beautiful hats.

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints." Psalm 116: 15.

Shared WIP Blog Tag- Part I

Congratulations to Linda Phillips who won the audio CD of "Indigo Girl" from last week's blog.

********

Recently I have met several young writers and bloggers.  One of them who goes by the pen name of Julian Daventry, asked for volunteers to be part of her Shared-WIP four-part tag. Each blogger answers four sets of ten questions that will be geared to four different aspects of their current WIP – the story itself, the characters, the storyworld, and general writing.  You'll find links to the other blogs at the bottom of this post; I hope you'll check them out.

My long time blog followers will know answers to some of the questions, but hang in there--there are some surprises too! 

What is the title, genre, and current status of your WIP?

Half-Truths is historical middle grade (after years of flip-flopping between YA and MG. Here's my post about this recent decision.). I just passed the mid-point of what I hope is the last draft--of at least ten (to be honest, I've lost track of how many times I started over!)

What makes your story unique?

Although there are other friendship books between a white girl and a black girl, no others take place in a southern city just before the 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education decision to integrate the schools. 

Titled "Isolation." 1960's, Michigan

Where did the title come from?

Generational secrets (i.e., half-truths) that influence the present fascinate me. 

Pictures like these from Pinterest inform my story.

How long have you been working on your WIP?

Ten years. (not counting a few years spent on a picture book and early chapter book that laid the ground work for Half-Truths. Yes, a picture book. Really.)

Some of the books I've read while researching and writing. 

What do you think people will enjoy most about your WIP?

I'm hoping they'll enjoy the girls' friendship and what Kate and Lillian learn from one another. I also hope they'll become more aware of their own half-truths (We all have them!).

Describe your WIP in ten short phrases.

Segregation; Charlotte, NC; civil rights; passing; family secrets; rambunctious goat; debutantes; journalism; unexpected friendship; Korean War. 


Provide a snippet (long or brief) of a favorite scene.

Dear Katie,

Sorry for not writing sooner. Lola Mae told me you were waiting on me to write.

Ever since Daddy folded the Shaw’s place into ours, we’ve had more tobacco to pick than you can shake a stick at. Them sorry coloreds were all standing around boo-hooing when the sheriff served them papers. Hey, it’s not our fault that they didn’t pay their taxes.

I put the letter down and stare out the window. Mr. Davis didn’t buy the Shaw’s property.

He stole it. 

My eyes blur as I continue reading. With all the cutting and drying we gotta do, I’d just as soon as not finish school. That would be fine by Daddy, but Mama won’t hear of it. I just got me a few more years ’til I’m sixteen. Then she can’t say nothin’ more about it. 

I really gotta run. Don’t worry about not being my dance partner no more. Ain’t nobody gonna ever shag like you, baby.

Baby? I crumple up Mack’s letter and throw it into the trashcan. What did I ever see in him? The big oaf!

It would serve him right if he flunks out of school.

What is the hardest thing to write with this story?  What is the easiest?

Hard: Getting the African American story right.
Easy: Writing off the page. (I write Kate's poems in long-hand first. These seem to come out easier.)

A line where the tension builds.

"My anger balloons bigger than my questions about the mysterious object. No one should be forced to dig up their ancestors."

Explain the plot in one line.

In 1952, fourteen-year-old Kate Dinsmore's world is shaken when she discovers that the Negro teenager working in her grandmother's house is her second cousin.

Please visit Sarah, Ivie, Lisa, Julian, Jem, Faith, Lila and Evangeline to see their answers to these questions. You'll be impressed with these young writers enthusiastic dedication to story creation!

Stay tuned for Part II in a few weeks.

Writing into the Unknown

The last time you enjoyed a novel I bet you didn't stop to think if the author deliberated over what point of view to use, if she worried over the scene sequence, or if she wondered about just how much dialect to include. My guess is that you didn't question why the author gave the protagonist a dog rather than a cat as a pet and you didn't stop to wonder why the author included what the antagonist ate for dinner one night or what type of car her father drove. If the novel was written well, then you didn't stop to think about any of these questions because the book was seamless. The story flowed and you allowed yourself to be carried along with the current.

I'm on the opposite end of that process. I'm trolling about for the pieces that will fit together to create my story. I'm sitting down at a blank screen with thoughts sparking in my brain but not a clear idea of how they will come together. As a nonfiction writer, I feel more comfortable describing the intricate process of making a glass paperweight then imagining the conversation between my characters. Fiction feels a lot like I'm jumping off a cliff and I'm not exactly sure where I'll land. It is, as I wrote to my friend, Joyce Hostetter, writing into the unknown.

But as I explore Charlotte in 1950, the setting for my middle grade fiction, I'm meeting and talking to wonderful people who willingly share their stories. Already I have talked with several women who were pictured on the cover of LIFE magazine in July of 1951. One woman asked me why I was writing this book and wondered if it wouldn't be easier to write about something I already knew. I laughed, agreed, and said, But this is so much fun!" I paused and then added, "And I'm learning a lot too.

I find that as I tackle this project I need "real" prompts to weave together my story. I refer to several Norman Rockwell books of illustrations. My newspaper clippings file of Charlotte's history grows. I watch TV documentaries and plan to scour the public library to uncover what was newsworthy in the south in the summer of 1950. I'm looking forward to interviewing Charles Jones, one of the individuals who led 200 people to protest segregation in Charlotte in 1960. Each person I speak to adds another dimension to my story; each article another tidbit. With their voices in my head, their words recorded in my laptop, their pictures staring at me from books, I feel more equipped--but ultimately, when I sit down to write, I'm still writing into the unknown.
Technorati Tags:
Joyce Hostetter, writing fiction, Norman Rockwell, Charles Jones, Charlotte segregation
Add to: | Technorati | Digg | del.icio.us | Yahoo | BlinkList | Spurl | reddit | Furl |