The Alter Call

I grew up in Newark, New Jersey. My days from pre-school through college were really not all that eventful. As a matter of fact, they were so uneventful that they’re just vague blurs. The family connection is what was most important and remains vibrant in my mind as I begin this journey back.

* * *

I guess one could say I was spoiled, being an only child from a family of eight aunts and uncles on my mom’s side and a myriad of kinfolk on my dad’s. But I wasn’t spoiled–a dominator probably because every only child has a hint of a dominant personality trait being literally the one and only.

Being oldest, I decided what my foster cousins and I would do, how we would do it, when we would do it, and to whom we would do it. Kasandra, Stephanie and I, contrived ways to watch Uncle Butch’s X-rated movies to robbing my grandmother’s nickel, dime and quarter collection blind. In comparison to the many horror stories of today’s adolescents though, overall, we really weren’t all that bad. But we sure had our share of smoking a few cigarettes and having a damn good time. The Bible calls it–youthful lusts.

Back in the latter 1960’s, Kasandra was my partner-in-crime. Stephanie was the more laid-back type. We were cousins by virtue of the fact that my Uncle Reggie and his wife couldn’t have children. Uncle Reggie was crazy about kids, which benefited me too. We were stair-steps in age when Uncle Reggie and Aunt Agnes brought them home; I was five, Stephanie was four and Kasandra was three. By the time we’d progressed to teen years, we had a kindred bond like none other. We understood each other, accepted each other, and believed in each other, knowing there was no blood-bond amongst us. This was real unconditional love at its best.

The housework that Sans and Step did was downright brutal. As kids, their chores included cleaning bathrooms, raking leaves, vacuuming that huge house, ironing, and anything else a seasoned maid or carpenter would do. We’d always talk amongst ourselves about how Agnes kept them as busy as workhorses. But despite the heavy load, Agnes and Reggie provided a loving and disciplined household.

When we were in elementary school, I guess my parents and their foster parents would have said we were mischievous. In high school, the beginning point of an awakening of sorts, I don’t recall how our family viewed us as a team. As the only bloodline child on my mother’s side, I was regarded as the little scholarly type. I got good grades in Arts High School, proceeded on to Seton Hall University, graduated on the Dean’s list, and had the appearance that was acceptable to Caucasians. On the other hand, Kasandra was somewhat racy and ethnic looking. She started having sex at thirteen or fourteen; Uncle Reggie found out from her doctor’s appointment and went into a rage. He was heart-broken since he’d always believed that between she and her sister, Kasandra would never let him down. She was an extremely talented artist, liked African dance, enjoyed school, but loved the boys! I must give her credit though–she never got pregnant. Or, if she did, Stephanie and I never knew.

After graduating high school, Kasandra went off to college desiring to become a nurse. The art was a true talent; a gift she loved but just wasn’t feeling a calling for at that particular time. Thinking back, I’d say she’d best be described as somewhat of a rebel. Even though she was the youngest, I somewhat respected her for her "bad-girl" nature in acknowledgement of her sense of self.

Uncle Reggie was the head electrician for the Newark projects’ housing system. With all the racial tension it brought, he relinquished himself to alcoholism. That within itself put some storms on his wife’s horizon. But life always brings its share of grief, no matter what. So Agnes just weathered her storms and maintained.

* * *

Meanwhile, Step was battling her own demons. Victimized by the constant pressure of being called "the slow one", her self-esteem was hanging by a thread. But Step was mightily good-hearted and through the disdain, she endured.

Voted by us all as the least likely to succeed, Step acquiesced to pursuing a trade. Hair-dressing. While Step was in trade school–Sans and I in Arts High–the closeness that we shared was never compromised. I graduated from Arts High first, Step next from vocational school, and Sans last from Arts High. With the feeling of being downtrodden, as I was now a college sophomore and Sans having been accepted at Glassboro State, Step was feeling somewhat short-changed with her first year of hair-weaving.

When I was in my senior year and Sans was a sophomore, Step was gearing up her desire to do more than hair. One day out of nowhere came her big announcement. She was going to Rutgers! She loved children and had an overwhelming urge to become a teacher. Step pursued. Her conquest was in the fact that she was developing a sense of courage and conviction. Her college days on the campus site however, brought out her bad-girl nature too. All the X-rated movies we’d reeled from Uncle Butch’s collection when we were kids became the basis of some of the X-rated activities we’d all begun to explore–that youthful lust stuff.

Step would call me from her dorm, I’d call her back, and we’d be on the phone for hours exchanging stories about sex, smoke, and rhythm-n-blues. We recapped our days of going to the City, dancing up a storm at Pippin’s, hanging out until the wee hours with our boyfriends, and claiming total innocence to our respective elders. Anyhow, Step’s venturing off to college proved to be the best move she ever made.

* * *

I, on the other hand, didn’t live on campus. I had no interest or need. I wanted to come home every day, hang out with my significant love interest, and work on my music. At Arts High, I was a music major who only gave it half an effort, which I later came to regret. All it takes is a little God-given talent, and we take it for granted. At that time, I didn’t realize that God gives talent that must be perfected. Now I know how possible it is to miss some of our blessings without the practice, perseverance and devotion that leads to God’s ultimate pentacle of success for our lives.

Anyway, I graduated from The Hall as a communications major, went to work as a full-time advertising executive for a couple of jack-of-all trades entrepreneurs, and got my first car– a red hatchback Mustang–all in the same year!

* * *

Here I am now somewhat arrived. But, the company I was working for went down the drain. This wasn’t a big deal; I was living at home, didn’t have many bills, and had a Bachelor’s Degree from a notable college. Bamberger’s soon hired me as an assistant sales manager where I learned a lesson that hasn’t left me to this day. I only stayed about three months, but the lesson was formidable. I witnessed my boss get fired on a major sale day!

She was a glamour girl who only graced the floors to check her reflection in the many mirrors glorifying Bamberger’s various departments. The entire store had prepared for a Veteran’s day sale, and my department wasn’t ready, or at least not to the liking of our administrator Nora. Nora came to check what our department had on sale for the holiday blitz and my boss Lori, was nowhere to be found. Nora had left Lori several written messages and instructions for me to have Lori call her immediately.