I feel torn today.  On one hand I met this incredible man with an amazing story, on the other I feel like typing his words and sharing them with you is breaking some sort of bond, abusing his vulnerability. I’m not a chat show host, I’m not looking for tears.  My empathy with people is just a reality, I am asking everyone the same questions just sometimes those questions open flood gates to more.

Earlier tonight someone came to dinner, a photographer..you met her on day 2.  I admitted that what I enjoy most about this project is the stories..the image is second to that.  Does that mean I’m not a photographer and what does it mean that I want to hear your stories?  I want you to talk to me. Get it off your chest..share..let it go.

Not everyone opens up to me, I know when they don’t.  That’s ok too.  I respect those people who are mysterious..apparently it’s a flaw in my nature that I am not..that is once what I was told. (Do I look Bothered, No mystery here)

Enough about me.  Today I had a history lesson and I cannot think about it without feeling emotional..apartheid.  It wasn’t just something in the history books.

Day 4 William Larry Thomas..AKA Rooster

Occupation: Maintenance Director

Rooster is a big beautiful man.  He has eyes that reach right down into his soul and hands that fix everything that is broken..even your heart.

We don’t know each other but I am confident in my words.

1, Where were you born and raised?

‘South Philly, grew up there till I was 6 years old then Georgia for 6 months then ended up in Florida.’

2, Tell me a childhood memory.

‘I don’t think I had much of a childhood, lets put it that way,’ it was my Mother, me and my two brothers and I took care of my two brothers because my mom had to work two jobs so I became a father really quickly.

My childhood memory..probably my Grandfather sitting on his porch picking at his guitar..(insert the most charming, southern american accent here).  That and reading the bible.

Back in the day we didn’t have these aerosol sprays for mosquitos so in the summer time we had these black flag sprays.  So he’d be ‘Come ere boy, close yer eyes, and he’d be spray us and I remember this, I see it in the movies some time and I roll around laughing and remembering’.

Back in that day being a minority there were areas that we just couldn’t go, in fact when we moved here to Winter Park they had just segregated the schools.

3, What is your favourite season & why

Coming into springtime.  The reason being is because in my teens this time was going into Golden Gloves. Every year about this time I get this twitch.  This is about the time going into boxing.  This season, this atmosphere, makes you wanna just get started.

Rooster was a successful boxer reaching National Championship Level.

4, Tell me about someone you love.

My Grandmother.

At this point I lose Rooster.  He was overcome with emotion.

I said we would come back to her because she was clearly a woman we all need to know about.

5, What words of wisdom do you have for the reader about life?

Do the best you can at whatever you do, regardless.

6, Dreams for the future.

Retiring in the mountains somewhere in a cabin with just me, the bears and the kids.

We turned off the mic..chatted for a while and then came back to question 2 & 4.

Someone you love..Roosters Grandmother

‘Baby girl, thats what she was.  She was pleasant, she was named after a town in Africa.  Her Father was French, her name was Oiuda Paradise.  He came over in 18 something.  Him and his sister, I have some documentation to prove that and they bought some property.  He was pretty much like he owned the town, my Grandmothers, Grandmother was a coloured woman and George being my Grandmothers Father he was mixed race, so they had a pretty easy life coming  through prohibition and all that stuff, she was born in 1918.  She said she didn’t know what poor was and they owned all this property.  So my Grandmother met George, he was my Grandfather and him ‘picking at his Guitar’ was the reason they married.

So she had sayings like ‘Child there ain’t no sense crying over spilt milk’  She had a lot of different sayings.

I was more close to my Grandmother.

Rooster shared lots of stories of his Grandmother, I think he was her special boy.  And rightly so.

Ouida Paradise..this conversation is dedicated her.  Oiuda’s name is beautiful but in history her name is more profound.  Spelt differently, but her name comes from her Grandfather and a place in Africa.  Oiuda was named after the place where they bought in all the slaves and transferred them to the USA.

I can’t tell you how hard the reality of that sentence hit me but suddenly I feel a level of shame and pain on behalf of the human race..the films and literature suddenly have a whole new dimension.

Rooster shared more stories with me about his Grandmother, her ancestry.  The caucasian element to his heritage and the beautiful story of her being.

I wish I had known Oiuda Paradise, had her clip me around the ear and told me what  I ‘should be doing’.  Sounds like she knew what she was talking about.

I said something as I left Rooster..I can’t remember what.  ‘Man he said, you sound like her.  Thats exactly what she would have said.’

We also came back to a childhood memory……

Rooster shared a long story here with me.  He, his siblings and Mother shared a lifetime of Domestic abuse from his Father.  Lived in fear and accepted this as the normality.  His Grandmother decided to save them from this situation.  In one morning they packed up their belongings in the time his Father went to work and before he got home they had fled to Florida.

Rooster shared stories of the abuse he, his family and his Mother endured.  They were brave to leave..the fear his Mother felt at that time I can only imagine.

He made his peace with his Father before he died, I’m glad he was able to do that.

Rooster was wonderful to listen too.  His stories were painful but also beautiful.  I could empathise and have absolutely no idea all at the same time.

 

We walk down the road, step on the tube, look over to the next person on the bus and make so many presumptions.  We all have a story, some we connect to, some make us cry or smile or feel jealous or feel grateful.  Please don’t make assumptions.  Take a moment and imagine or even ask..thats all I do, I ask and look at what I discover.

This project breaks me, heals me.  Makes me question everything I believe in or know about.  I could spend my life taking to people and hearing their stories..try it, it may surprise you.

Thank you Rooster.  Thank you for sharing, more than I have shared here.  Thank you for trusting me.

 

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